It only took one imperfection. One. Then laughs would turn into screams [...].

People would turn into memories and memories into nightmares.

Mahsa, Muffin

He was just a homeless kid wandering the streets, never expecting his life to
change, for the worse or the better.

******

Nice to meet you too! I screamed as I hobbled across the street.

An angry honk echoed relentlessly in my ears, urging me to quicken my step, but
instead of accommodating the unspoken request, I paused in the middle of the street.
Others walked past me, around me, never allowing any body contact and always
throwing the most puzzled glances in my direction. The cab driver that continued to
pound his fist down onto the center of his steering wheel, swearing in a language I
couldnt quite identify, earned nothing but a sneer. I downright refused to be
cooperative, and it pissed him off.
When the light finally turned red, I finished my short trip across the street where the
horizontal white lines that streaked across the ground ended along a badly dented
curb. A group of teenage girls stepped back, opening a path for me as I continued in
my sad excuse of a straight line, never quite steering myself correctly. The cab driver
slammed down on his gas pedal and whizzed past my curb, speeding through his lane
and angrily swirling onto the one closest to me. He screamed again, damning me to
some foreign hell, spurring me to grin at the anger I had swept up inside of him. I
seriously loved doing that.
Angela! a woman to my right gasped as she grabbed at her daughters arm, jerking
the curious little kid away from me. The girl smashed into her mothers thigh and
staggered before righting herself, looking comically offended by the violent jerk. She
took a moment to correct her footing before frowning up at her mother.
Hello Angela, I grinned, letting my teeth glisten through the thickness of my lower lip.
I gave a slight bow of my head in her direction, along with a theatrical twirl of my arm
that milked a smile from the little girl. Predictably, her mother did not seem amused.
She jerked away, leading her child further away from me.
See you later! I snickered after them, offering a wave in the curious kids direction
before I hobbled back onto the sidewalk. Again, seas of people melted away from
me, muttering, grunting, holding their noses away while some even went as far as
crossing the street. Most kept their eyes downcast, or pointed to the store displays, as if
they were afraid I would solicit them for money if they so much as glanced at me. They
didn't want me around their streets, in their lives or on their conscience, but I didn't
care. It felt good to be outside, with the sounds of cars, bikes, scooters, even the stupid

population right there, ready to grace me. They took me in; how I smelled, how I
looked, how I purposely sauntered and swayed.
I felt free, and I loved it.
Just beyond the intersection, I could make out the distinct pink shape of an A outlined
by the faint, flickering row of yellow lights I knew Zack had yet to take down. Christmas
had already passed, but the man was too lazy to actually climb up there and take
down the decorations. I had a feeling they would hang onto the large sign of Annas
Diner until next year. Even then, he wouldnt take it off.
I pushed past a crowd of bustling high schoolers as I made my way into the warm
diner, more than glad to have the cold wind off my back. Though I made a show of
wiping my shoes off on the welcome mat, a few people groaned at the sight of me. I
noticed a couple stand up and leave, but that only made me grin.
Muffin, a warm voice greeted me, comforting and supportive like the inside of her
diner. I turned to find the dainty woman standing behind the counter, her blonde hair
swept to the side in a long braid that fell to her waist. She tucked a strand of gold
behind her ear and smiled. "Hello!"
Hey Anna. I beamed at her, hobbling in her direction until I was right at the edge of
the counter. A man grumbled something about hygiene and immediately removed
himself from his stool, but Anna didnt seem to mind. She continued to smile at me as
she pulled out the green cup I always liked. With a small glance in the departing
mans direction, I decided to steal his stool and confiscate the warmth he left behind.
How are you doing? she asked in that thick Chicago accent of hers, one I found
somewhat comical when she tried to sound serious. Now was one of those times. She
skewed her eyes in my direction, her smile all gone, obviously wondering if I was in any
trouble.
Decent, I paused, studying the wrinkles that cracked her skin over the years. I
wanted to ask her to smile again, to see the crows feet that expanded over her
cheeks and savor the safety I felt in her presence. But I knew she was about to chide
me, so it was best to prepare myself for the oncoming tough love. Did the coffee
escape? I pointed quickly in her direction, where she was frozen in mid-pour. She
gave a small grin and tilted the pot further, filling up the vessel of heavenly goodness
with what I could smell to be fresh coffee. Ah, heaven. I couldnt wait to get my cold
fingers around the cup, and my eagerness showed as I stretched my arms out towards
the green cup.
Ah, ah, ah, what do you say? Anna clicked her tongue against her teeth in a hard
tsk. Her hand retracted, distancing the cup of coffee from me and removing the
5

answer to all my problems before I even had the chance to touch the smooth surface.
I knew she wanted me to say thank you, but I wasn't going to give in so easily.
You look skinny in those jeans? I ventured, pulling a half-assed smile onto my lips as
she narrowed her gaze in my direction. Um youve lost a couple of pounds? I like
your hair? Are those earrings new? Is that a new shade of lipstick? You look awfully
pretty toda
Oh Jesus H. Christ, just give it to him already, Zacks voice interrupted. He emerged
from the back of the diner, throwing his heavy frame through the much-too-small
enclosure of the doorway. Hey Muffin, he gave me a lazy smile when we made eye
contact, one that suited his broad, round face. He was wearing a matted pair of
overalls smeared with flour and some sort of pink, dried icing. I faintly noted that he
hadnt shaved recently, which never meant anything good when it came to Zack. He
was my Santa Claus, he always had been. Not only did he have the laugh, he had the
look, the smile, the sparkling blue eyes that targeted him as the bleeding heart he
really was; even after thirty years of marriage, Anna couldnt stop him from being so
damn kind.
Not until he says it, Anna sighed, putting the cup down onto the counter, well out of
my reach.
It, I smiled proudly.
Oh, would you look at that Zack, I... I think Im losing my grip on this freshly poured
cup of coffee! she gasped in mock surprise, letting the green cup rock at the edge of
the counter as the dark liquid swayed back and forth inside.
Okay, okay! I was up on my feet in a matter of seconds, letting my stool rock
violently behind me as my hands dashed out across the surface of the sleek counter.
Excuse me, please and thank you! Are you happy now? Give me my coffee! I
growled, choosing to turn my hands inward and slam down both palms onto the
countertop. Next to Anna, Zack began to chuckle, and just as she opened her mouth
to scold me, he bent his massive frame over her to pluck the drink from her grip. Before
she could protest, my greedy hands were already wrapped around the warm cup of
coffee and raising it to my lips.
Zack! How is this boy supposed to learn any manners if you keep giving him what he
wants? she reprimanded him instead, while I rocked back happily on my seat with my
lips snug against one corner of the cup.
He said it, didnt he? Oh come on hunny, dont be mad at me. The ogre of a man
bent over the tiny, frail woman that stood beside him, wrapping one plump hand
around her midsection as he pressed a soft kiss against her forehead. I smiled at the
6

sight of Anna visibly melting in his arms, falling victim to the warm heart of the
neighborhood softie.
Thank you, I added after my first sip, letting her win without really letting her win. After
all, I had already gotten my drink.
While the two lovers cooed over each other, I swiveled in my seat, turning to peer out
through the window stained with sloppy, half-assed decorations that stretched across
the glass. There were still people bustling about outside, holding their shopping bags
close to their sides, pushing past the huddles of bodies in front of them without ever
looking at any faces. They were all so unattached. I knew how it felt, and although it
was a safe, comfortable feeling, it was still awfully lonely.
Hey, Muffin, Zack rapped two fingers on the counter behind me, instantly snapping
me out of my daze. I lowered the warm drink to my lap as I swiveled a bit toward him,
glancing over my shoulder. You okay? he whispered.
I couldnt help the way my throat tightened at the easily answerable question. It was
simple, yes, but I couldnt answer it. Any other person could have asked and I would
have just replied with an easy Im fine, but Zack looked at me with those warm blue
eyes and I knew he cared. He really cared. When he asked me if I was okay, it wasnt
out of general hospitality, or curiosity, there was a paternal instinct behind his words
that practically threw help at me. I didnt want his help, though.
Fine, I said quickly, ripping my gaze away from his face to glance back out the
window instead. There was a small child standing by the door, tugging on his mothers
arm and frantically pointing in my direction. I let my lips stretch into a smile and raised
my hand, giving a small wave. His mother didnt like that. She immediately bent down
to whisk him up off his feet and tuck him tight against her body as she made a quick
beeline away from the diner, and me.
If you need anything Zack was still talking behind me, but I let his voice mellow out
into the ambiance of the diner. I could hear three girls chattering to my left, gasping
excitedly about the latest song released by some famous pop artist. Behind them, an
elderly couple discussed the crude behavior of teenagers these days in a loud,
condescending tone and I couldnt help but chuckle at the irony.
Muffin! Muffin, are you listening? Annas tighter, sharper voice snapped my attention
right back to the counter. I turned to glance at the two with a slightly puzzled look on
my face.
Sorry, what? I wrinkled my nose into my face, not happy with the concern basically
dripping off their expressions.

He said, she took in a deep breath, recognizing my tone as the one that hinted I
hadnt listened to a single word Zack had spoken. If you need anything, dont
hesitate to ask. You know, food, water, shelter she paused, glancing over my attire,
a shower. We got that extra room now that Jasons moved out, and you know
wed just love to have yo"
I held up a hand in her direction the moment she mentioned Jason. That was their son,
a few years older than me and off to some college for geniuses. With Anna and Zack
being so down to earth, I would have never in a million years expected to have him of
all people share their DNA. Not only was he a stuck up prude, he thought he was too
good for his own parents, and often mentioned how they embarrassed him. Clearly, it
was the other way around. I hated Jason and I was jealous that he had so much he
took for granted. The bastard didnt deserve any of it.
No, I hissed when I saw Zack open his mouth. He looked paternal again, like he
needed to take care of something, and I knew I was the best option for miles around.
Look, thanks guys, but really, I dont need your charity, I added snidely. Slamming
my cup down onto the counter, still half-full, I turned to slide out of my chair.
But Muffin
Absolutely not. Thank you. Excuse me. Have a nice day, and all that jazz. Really,
being polite was overrated, and I didnt care much for it. I didnt care for the way
Anna and Zack both looked at me when I escaped into the chilly weather outside.
They pitied me, and I hated myself because of it.
The door jingled softly behind me as I made my way further away from the diner. My
fingers still held onto some of the warmth from the coffee cup, so I thrust them deep
into my pockets and cradled them against my hips while my thin, tattered coat
swayed behind me. My torn shoes sloshed loudly on my way down the sidewalk, slowly
heading in the general direction of where I called home. My stomach roared for
attention but I had to ignore it; there was nothing I could do for it at that point. Food
wouldn't be a priority until the next morning.
Beyond the street, the lights, the people, I slowly merged into the lower, less-populated
part of the city. Lights flickered there, children didnt come out to play, and strays
littered the streets like the hungry animals they really were. I caught sight of Luke in one
corner, snuggled beneath his cardboard and two layers of discarded blankets, having
bundled up for the night. I gave him a small wave and he smiled in my direction, his
eyes barely open. A few steps away, Andy was stretched out on a bus bench, his
head buried beneath a mess of newspapers. Just at the end of the street, Alice and
Landon snuggled against each other behind their shopping cart, cuddling with each
other at the doorframe of an abandoned, heavily boarded hotel.

This was Bumsville, as the local high school kids put it. Business sucked here, the real
estate was cheap, and the filth was unyielding. Even the local gangs refused to lay
claim on any part of the rotten, broken down part of the city. The cops never patrolled
there and tourists knew to stay away. It was the perfect place for a squatter like me to
live until further noticewhich was forever, as far as I knew.
I had taken residence behind an old Mexican restaurant that shut down last year. For
three months, I scavenged and collected until I had a decent set-up behind two
empty trashcans. People threw away treasure all the time, blankets and pillows and
stuffed animals, perfectly useable material that had small tears and stains on them. I
gathered them all to create a home for myself, where authority didnt reach me and
my own word was law. Just last week I even hit the jackpot with a tent I found near the
junkyard. It was torn and tattered, no longer capable of being shelter, but I stretched
out the fabric between my trashcans so it created a fairly decent roof. At least, it kept
out the rain, which was all I needed.
I made my way down Third Street, and just as I was about to make a right onto
Barnett, a figure went running past me. It wasnt so much surprising as it was
unexpected; I didnt think anyone I didnt recognize would be downtown so late at
night, but it wasnt the first time someone had carelessly shoved me aside. The figure
was too shadowy for me to make out any details, and by the time I turned to better
inspect him he was already out of my line of sight.
Fucker, I hissed under my breath, choosing to pat down the front of my coat like he
had somehow made me filthier by momentarily brushing up against me.
Nnghh.. came a distant noise from my left. I froze, thinking that his friend or comrade
was just around the corner. I wanted to avoid any fights if I could.
The sound came again, a guttural, pained sound that made me turn towards it.
Hello? I pushed into the darkness, bypassing my turn to sneak into the next one, a
secluded alleyway that held nothing at the end except a dirty trashcan.
Nnn.. the groan came again, louder this time. I didnt need to see to know where I
was going; the outline of this area was burned into my memory. I slowly made my way
forward, edging along the wall to my right.
What the fuck? I said, hello? This is your cue to respond, asshole, I grumbled sourly. I
wasn't in the mood for pranks, especially if it was some random teenager hoping to
get a laugh out of fucking with the homeless. If someone was playing a game, or
planned on robbing me, they were going to be sorely disappointed.
Just as I was about to turn back towards the light, I heard a gasp, and my torn
converse briefly brushed against something solid. Careful not to trip over the mass, I
9

slowly made my way down onto my knees and felt through the darkness with my
hands. My fingers trailed over a bump, down the width of it, touching fabric that
stretched against warmth. It was a leg. I felt up the length of the thigh to what I could
only guess was the hipbone, and then up higher, to the side. I felt a distinct
rectangular shape in a pocket and instinctively reached in, fishing out the object. As
my thumb ran over a groove on the side, the screen lit up, showing a cell phone sitting
in the palm of my hand. It looked high-tech, and new; if it wasnt for the strange stain
on the side it could have probably been peddled it off for some good cash. Not that I
was going to be stealing anything from some poor shmuck. Wait, what the hell was
that stain anyway?
Again, the groan came, much louder this time... presumably because I was kneeling
by the source. I tilted the cell phone up, turning it into a makeshift flashlight that easily
lit up the outline of the body in front of me.
It was a man, wearing a light business suit with thin vertical stripes that hugged the
contours of his body perfectly. Clearly tailor-made. A tawny, slightly scuffed trench
coat clung to his shoulders, folded messily beneath him when he laid down? Hit the
floor? What exactly happened to him? I angled the phone up higher, pounding down
on the button I had found earlier to get the dimming screen to light back up. It was
then that I saw it, the large oval shape that stood out against the rest of his attire; a
dark stain that didnt quite match up. The man groaned again, and I leaned
forward, narrowing my eyes as if that would somehow help me peer past the darkness
easier.
Youcall... he wheezed, and it all suddenly clicked into place for me. The stain, the
phone, the shadowy, unknown figure from before; it was a mugging.
Oh shit! I gasped, dropping the phone as I jerked away. It rolled once and landed
on its screen, returning the empty black that belonged in the not-so-deserted
alleyway.
Fuck, what had I gotten myself into? The man had been stabbed, or shot, I couldnt
tell, but considering I hadnt heard a gunshot I could safely assume it was because of
a knife. But why was he here to begin with? People dressed like that didnt come
down into Bumsville. They just didnt.
Call he whispered again, snapping me out of my daze.
Scrambling forward, I blindly searched the ground for the fallen cell phone, dragging
my fingers over the harsh surface of concrete before I found the wet edge of the item.
Picking it up, I flipped it over and hit the side button again. This time, the screen trilled
at me, asking me if I wanted to raise the volume. What?

10

Hold.. hold on, okay? Im calling an ambulance. Just hold on, alright? I fumbled with
the device, unable to find the number buttons in the front where I could pound in the
easy 9 with the double 1 that flashed in red across my brain. The phone chirped in
protest beneath my touch as I turned and twisted it in my hands, pushing all the
buttons I could find. Finally, a slide flickered out the bottom edge.
As quickly as I could, I pounded in the number across the newly discovered pad. It
rang twice, and a mellow, bored voice picked up on the other end. 911, what is your
emergency?
Ah, hello? Yes, I.. I.. fuck, I need an ambulance! There is a man bleeding to death.
Fuck, what the fuck am I supposed to do? Im not even supposed to be here, I was just
going to go and get some fucking sleep and this fucker started groaning and all of a
sudden I found him and hes fucking dying! I exclaimed, growing more frantic with
the idea of blood so close to me. I tried to keep my eyes away from the outline of the
body, afraid what my internal defenses would do if I focused too long on what had
happened to him.
Hold on, Maam, calm down. Can you tell me where you are?
Ma? Err, Im at the corner of Barnett and Third, in the alleyway on the left. Look, you
got to hurry, this guy looks like hes bleeding out pretty quick. I wanted to bitch at her
for calling me Maam, but I must have sounded as hysterical as I felt, so I let it pass.
And the mystery man had a thick, dark puddle forming around him, so it probably
wasn't the best time for me to start an unnecessary squabble about my gender. He
groaned again, making me wince as I tightened my hold on the cell phone. Hurry! I
added frantically.
Okay, just calm down, okay? I just sent out your location to dispatch, there should be
an ambulance heading in your direction right now. Can you tell me whos hurt?
Yes, you fucker, I already did. A man. How the fuck am I supposed to know who he is?
An idiot that went into the wrong part of town and got mugged, obviously, I wanted
to say. But I went with a more censored version instead. No I dontI dont know
who he is. I just found him on the ground, in the alleyway. He looks like hes been
stabbed. I dont know by who, I didnt see anything. I just found him. Fuck, where is
your fucking ambulance?
Subtle movements from the unknown man unnerved me, driving enough fear into my
bloodstream for my heartbeat to shoot into my eardrums. If he died, would it be my
fault? Would his blood be on my hands? I didn't want to be responsible for his life, but
of course my rotten luck had accurately timed my arrival into Bumsville with this man's
demise. Life was full of fucked up surprises like that.

11

Theyll be right out there, Maam, just calm down. Everything is going to be okay. Im
just going to ask you to stay on the line with me until they get there, okay? Maam?
Maam? the 911 operator pressed on, trying to sound calm and collected, but she
just pissed me off. So I hung up.
Bitch, I hissed as I pushed myself up to my feet, spinning around with concrete plans
to run the hell away. Just as I took my first step, a hand grabbed at the tattered edge
of my pants.
Horrified, I paused to glance down at the owner of the hand; the wounded mystery
man in the business suit that was obviously too stupid to stay out of the bad part of
town. It wasnt my fault he got stabbed, that was all on him, so then why did I
suddenly feel so guilty for trying to abandon him? I could hear the distant jeer of the
ambulance drawing closer, speeding through the empty streets and probably
freaking out sleeping bums on every corner. I couldnt move, I was rooted to the spot
with his hand tightly holding onto the fabric of my pants. From the faint light spilling
through the phones screen, I could make out the outline of his face, and the stern
eyes that peered up at me through the dark. He opened his mouth to speak, but
before he could get any words out the booming sound of the sirens came pouring
down on us.
Suddenly, the Emergency Medical Technicians shoved past me, practically throwing
me to one side as they rained down on the wounded man. They cooed over him,
breaking our eye contact and freeing me from the demanding look that had
rendered me immobile for longer than I would have liked to admit. I slowly backed
away from the scene, the cell phone still clutched in my hand.
Hey you! one of the EMTs turned to glare at me, quickly standing up to follow.
I panicked. I knew how it looked and I knew that a stupid homeless kid at a crime
scene wasnt going to be released without blame. I would be taken in as the prime
suspect, and it was that fucking mystery mans fault because he just had to go and
get stabbed next to where I live. Turning on a heel, I quickly dashed out toward the
streetbut I didnt get far. As soon as I made my way around the ambulance, I
stumbled in to the cop car that had just appeared on the scene. Great, just my luck.
Arrest that kid! the EMT yelled from behind me, instantly sending the cops on high
alert. They rushed out of the car as they made their way toward me, guns drawn,
barrels pointed in my direction.
Freeze! Put your hands up! one of them bellowed, leveling his weapon with my
head. I obliged by raising both hands up over my head. It was then that I noticed the
stupid phone still in my hand, which wouldnt look good if I was to claim that I wasnt
the one that had mugged the poor bastard. Slowly, the other cop made his way
12

toward me, as if he knew I was ready to dart at any given moment. I must have
looked like a deer caught in headlights. Grabbing one of my hands and twisting it
down against the small of my back, he turned to shove me against the side of the
ambulance. I grunted, dropping the phone as he forced my other hand behind my
back to join the first.
Before the cuffs that were smoothly slid off the cops hip could make contact with my
wrists, the second EMT appeared from the far corner of the car. He whispered
something to the first cop, and I saw him lower his gun.
Ben, stop, the kid didnt do anything, he sighed, having the gall to actually sound
disappointed.
I sighed in relief as my hands were released. When I turned around, it seemed like both
cops still looked ready to shoot me. The one with the handcuffs, Ben, was resting one
hand on his gun.
Hey kid, come here. He wants to see you, the second EMT signaled toward me,
giving me an easy way out. Wait, he? He who?
I made my way around to the back of the ambulance in a dazed state, unable to
comprehend everything that had happened to me in such a short amount of time. I
still wasnt sure what was going on. Behind the open doors of the ambulance, the
business-suit-man was stretched out on a gurney, strapped into place with a large
patch of gauze on his lower stomach. He reached out toward me when I came into
view, and I mindlessly stepped into the outstretched fingers.
As soon as I was within arms length, his fingers dug down into the front of my torn coat
and he jerked me down with strength I didnt expect a dying man to have. I
effortlessly stumbled beneath the force, and if I hadnt caught myself on the handle of
one of the doors I would have gone headfirst into him.
I wont forget this, he hissed from beneath the oxygen mask that had been forced
over his face.
Little did I know, he wasnt kidding.

13

It took him a month to find me.

After the ambulance disappeared into the distance, the two cops made me linger
beside the alleyway for further questioning; but apparently the business-suit-man had
insisted that I was innocent and hadnt done anything to harm him. The only blood on
my hands was the bit smeared off the phone, and they found no weapon around to
prove the crime they suspected of me. Reluctantly, they let me leave, but asked for
contact information in case they needed to find me again. Considering how I had no
address or phone number, I offered them Annas information since I frequented the
diner often. It was all one big messy situation, and in the end I didnt even know if the
wounded man was okay. Apparently, he was just fine.
I didnt recognize him, but he was in the newspaper. Anna kept fussing over him,
talking about some important guy that was apparently hurt near where she knew I
hung around. Of course she insisted that I stray away from that area, and I let her
believe that I would. She didnt know I slept there; I always tried to put her mind at
ease by telling her I went to a shelter. But I hated shelters. My make-shift home behind
the trashcans did more good than any shelter would, and considering the space there
was always limited I felt bad for taking up a slot.
His name was Asher Pickett, one of those men that were supposed to be handsome,
smart and successful. Frankly, I thought he was an idiot for ending up where he did. If
he was so smart, why did he go into Bumsville, and let himself get mugged?
The newspaper headlines read Gang activity at all time high. Respected businessman
mugged at shady alleyway, which was total bullshit. Even lowly, amateur gangs
didnt bother with Bumsville. If he was mugged, it was by a bum; a sickly, skinny,
starving bum that was just too close to the edge and unable to last another day of
begging. I supposed he got a pretty penny from the supposed businessmans wallet,
too. He probably had a warm meal that night.
Asher stayed the center of attention for a week, and then faded into the background
of war and conflict circling the world. I didnt expect to hear about him, or from him
ever againmuch less a month later.

14

I noticed the sleek black car a mile away; it was a vehicle that just didnt come into
my part of town. The streets of Bumsville were deserted as always, and it didnt exactly
blend in with the surroundings, so I didnt understand why it crept at two miles an hour
behind me. Like I wouldnt notice.
I ignored it, going on my usual scavenging around the neighborhood, checking
trashcans here and there. I turned a corner just to get the annoying sound of the
wheels slowly turning out of my head, which directed me in a short alleyway. I climbed
onto some tattered boxes as I swung the heavy lid of a government issue dumpster
open, letting the horrible stench of the garbage inside sweep up into my dirty nostrils. I
slowly tipped my weight over the edge, one hand balancing my weight while the
other outstretched to delve into the mess. The sound of car doors closing echoed
down the length of the short walk to the street, but I paid it no mind as I rummaged. A
banana peel here, a discarded toy there, a lot of wrappings, a lot of used condoms, a
few cans, torn receipts, a bag stained with grease: and that was all I found with just
one glance.
A cough came from behind me.
I quietly fished out a can, glancing inside its depth before tossing it over my shoulder. I
heard a grunt just as the object clattered loudly against the ground and hobbled
towards the pavement. A grin tugged on my lips, creating cracks in the coating of dirt
on my skin. Ignoring the presence I knew to be behind me, I reached down again, this
time grabbing the greasy bag.
Another cough.
Tearing the wrinkled bag open, I peered inside to find a half eaten, rotten hamburger
and some fries with obvious insect issues. I sighed, rolled the bag back up and tossed it
over my shoulder.
Excuse me, someone finally decided to speak. I paused as my fingers hooked onto
another can, the sharp edge snagging onto my finger and breaking the skin along my
nail bed. I picked up the can, weighing it in my hands, making sure it was a good
weapon to chuck at someones head before I turned around.
There were two men standing just a few feet away from me. The one closest to me
pursed his lips and frowned as he reached up to tug at the neck of his dress shirt. I
could imagine the anally specific tie that should have been wrapped around his neck
like a noose, imprinting the inner lining of his shirt against his skin. His loose grey pants
and shiny shoes had been stained by the contents of the first can I threw over my
shoulder, creating a pretty splatter that ran up along his left thigh. I took a moment to
glance past him, to the second man standing akimbo at the end of the alleyway. He
wore a white shirt as well, with a black leather jacket slung over his shoulders and old,
15

torn jeans. I raised both eyebrows in his direction when his dark eyes narrowed in a
scrutinizing manner.
May we have a moment of your time? It was the one that had spoken the first time,
his voice thick and deep. He sounded German, just from the light accent he carried.
Otherwise, his English was better than mine.
Hmm, I dont know. As you can see, Im a very busy man. I raised the can in my
hand, lightly waving it in their direction. The German one must have thought I was
about to chuck that one too, because he took a small step back.
Our employer would like to speak with you, the other one sighed, sounding both
bored and annoyed. He glanced over his shoulder before returning his gaze to his me.
Now.
Tell your employer to call ahead of time. My schedule is filled up for the day, I
grumbled. I didnt like the way they were looking at me, and they were ruining my
quiet time. Hopping off the boxes, I rolled the can in my hand to glance at the torn,
wrinkled label still stretched across the cheap metal. The brand Natural Balance was
stamped across the top in yellow letters, with a discrete black print of dog food next to
the picture of a golden retriever. I hated golden retrievers. But I knew a special mutt
on Third Street that would have loved to fill his jowls with some chow, even if it was
mediocre and old.
We have warm food and wine to accommodate you, the German stated, probably
thinking that I planned on eating the dog food myself. I can see that youre busy, sir,
itll only be a minute.
I was already walking past him, keeping my attention steadfast on the can in front of
me like I was trying really, really hard to read it. They must have thought I was crazy,
which I didnt mind. People usually left me alone when they thought I was crazy.
No thanks, I said, waving him off.
Look, you little shit. The other one suddenly stepped toward me, his right hand
lashing out to grab onto my shoulder to stop my progress. Our boss wants to see you,
and I dont feel like wasting more time in this filthy place. I dont know why hed want
to see a waste of flesh and bone like you, I feel dirty just looking at you, but he does.
So stop wasting my time and get in the car while Im still being nice, alright?
He held enough authority in his voice to get normal people to accommodate him. The
threatening tone in his voice didnt bother me though. I shrugged his hand off my
shoulder and purposely reached up to pat at my coat with an offended look on my

16

face. Watch where youre touching. Not just anyone has the honor of being in my
presence, so consider yourself lucky.
His face tightened, his eyebrows furrowing as the pale skin of his cheeks flexed with the
clench of his jaws. A spike of excitement ran through my core when I realized his
temper was short, which meant he would be a very easy victim of my words. It took
some self-restraint to control my smile, but I managed. What did you say?
Ill put it in simpler words so your obviously slow brain can understand. Keep your filthy
hands to yourself, I clarified. I had to do it, it was just so easy. I saw the anger flare in
his previously dull eyes and his other hand lashed out at my face.
Vincenzo! the German yelled, just as his partners heavy fist slammed against my
cheek. Dirt leapt from my skin, forming a light fog of dust as I tumbled back by the
sheer force he put in the blow. Pain rippled up the side of my face, throbbing against
my cheekbone as I felt moisture sting the surface of my eyes. My free hand
immediately moved up to press my colder fingers against the irritated patch of skin
along my face. Holy shit. I didn't see that one coming.
You disgusting rat. Who do you think you are? the angry man yelled, practically
seething. His partner repeated his name, permanently identifying the raging man as
Vincenzo in my memory bank. Considering his name and the foreign curses hissed
from the pale lips, I made an educated guess that the stranger was Italian. So I tried to
make a mental note to myself: Never anger an Italian, but eh who was I kidding? I
loved pissing people off.
Alright Mario, calm down, I chuckled softly, slowly lowering my hand back to my side
as I tried to ignore the thumping pain left behind. I got a mushroom here
somewhere. I extended my free fingers toward my pocket with my other hand, ready
to make a show of searching for the magical mushroom. He didnt seem to find me
funny. At all. He charged at me again, proving to be much faster than me or his
partner. His hands wrapped around my throat, tightening on my jugular as he
smashed me back against the wall. Pain shot up the back of my skull, shivering
through my spine as my body protested what my mouth had done. The German one
moved with us, his hands grabbing at his partners arms in an admirable attempt to
stop the assault.
Gentlemen, a soft call came from the opening of the alleyway.
The volume was low, but the tone appeared to be stern enough to freeze both men in
their place. I sputtered, scratching at the Italians grip with one hand as I desperately
tried to keep the rest of the abandoned dog food in the can with my other. It shouldn't
have mattered, but I didn't want to lose the damn thing. I needed to keep what little
food remained in the can safe.
17

Slowly, Vincenzo loosened his hold, looking reluctantly obliged to release me with the
third man looking over us. I coughed as I pushed away from him, unable to keep my
mouth shut with one last jab. I couldnt punch him back, I was physically incapable of
much damage, but I knew verbal statements could hurt just as much. Never knew
Pizza and Spaghetti made people so strong. Explains the grease, though, I sniped.
He grunted, but refused to let me see his anger this time. I faintly wondered why, but
my curiosity wasnt strong enough to keep me in that confined space with three men I
didnt know. I wanted to get the hell out of there. So I turned, my scavenged treasure
still tight in my grip as I stepped away from the Italian, crudely humming the theme to
Mario Brothers as I moved towards what I thought was my exit. But there stood another
obstacle. I couldnt see the third mans face, with the light bearing down on him and
the shadows completely muddling his facial features. The rays of sunlight turned him
into a silhouette until I was just a few steps away from him. Even then, I didnt
recognize him.
He wore a striped suit, tailored to fit every curve and dip of his body, which tickled my
memory but didnt immediately draw up solid clues. The man once I reached him, not
allowing me to pass even as I clearly tried to squeeze past him. He was strangely tall,
practically towering over me, and his wide shoulders blocked off my access to
freedom with a simple lean of his weight to the side.
Youre in the way, I sputtered when, after trying to fake around him twice, he
refused to let me by.
He nodded, like this was common knowledge.
Move, I suggested rudely. The Italian behind me growled.
That is a good suggestion, he suddenly agreed. Maybe he wasnt that dumb after
all. I smirked and nodded, about to dart past him while he shifted his weight, when I
felt his hand grab at my arm. His grip was strong enough to make me gasp. His fingers
dug down into the flesh just above my elbow and jerked me straight out of the
shadows.
What the fuck are you doing?! I shrieked. It was a stupid question, I could see what
he was doing; he was leading me straight to a sleek, shiny car. LET GO OF ME! I
protested, grinding my heels down into the concrete to make the transition from alley
to car that much harder. It didnt seem to phase him, he was pulling me like I was
nothing more than a bag of groceries. I couldn't help pondering my weight.
Alrick, he called the moment he reached the car door. Apparently extending his
free limb and opening the door by himself was too much of an effort, whereas
18

dragging me against my will to his stupid vehicle was a yawn. Who the hell was this
guy?
I said, let GO! I yelled, jerking on my arm just as I noticed the German from before
head in our direction. I safely assumed he was Alrick, as there were no other people
around, and the angry Italian was already labeled as Vincenzo. The businessman
spared me a small glance, like one would give to a being of lower equalityI saw the
silent condescending glint in his eyes and it tipped me right over the edge.
Before I could stop myself, I had curled in on my own arm like a wild animal ready to
chew off its limb to get out of a hunters trap. My lips clutched down on the arch of his
hand, teeth lined against the knuckle, and I bit down into the tendon below. I barely
heard his gasp, a simple sound of surprise, and his grip loosened long enough for me
to take advantage of the chance for escape. Wrenching myself away from him, I
staggered back a few steps and scowled at the group. The Germans mouth was
hanging open, the nameless one was frowning, and Vincenzo... well, he didnt seem
surprised.
There was no need for that, the man in the suit replied coolly. He raised his bitten
hand to glance at the area where I had broken the skin, but he didnt look too
worried. His arm lowered, and I noticed that he didnt wipe his hand off on his pants
like so many others had in the past after touching me. Didnt he feel dirty? I sure did.
The fuck there wasnt. I said let go, didnt I? Look, I dont know or care about who
you people are. I dont like getting manhandled, so dont fucking touch me, I
growled. None of my new acquaintances seemed the least bit interested in what I
wanted though, which I took as my cue to get the hell out of there. Fuck off, I spat
angrily before spinning around to make my exit with my dog food still clutched tightly
in my hand. I didnt hear the footsteps, but before long a shadow was looming over
me.
You have a very limited vocabulary, he noted with utter indifference. It was like he
was stating a fact everyone was supposed to know. The sky is blue, the ground is dirty,
water is wet my vocabulary is limited.
Fuck you! I barked, blushing angrily the moment I realized what he meant. I said fuck
a lot, I knew that, but it had never been brought to my attention quite that bluntly.
Usually Anna just told me to stop cussing like a sailor and shut the hell up.
Yes, you seem to like that word, he nodded gravely.
Look, Mister, I suddenly stopped in my tracks, twirling around so quickly that he
almost bumped into me. He managed to pause just a hairs breath away from me,
with a continuous sense of superiority around him that just pissed me off. I took
19

advantage of his proximity, raising one dirty finger to repeatedly jab it against his
chest. I dont know who you are or wha
My name is Asher Pickett, he interrupted, but the formal tone he used made it sound
like his voice belonged there, just a branch off the tree of my sentence. The name was
repeated enough in the diner that some bells went off, but I still didnt connect him to
any direct memories.
Or what you want, I continued stubbornly. I didnt take anything of yours, I didnt
mug you, and youre a fucking nuisance, so go away. Youre cramping my style, I
huffed, wrinkling my nose into my face.
I know, he agreed with me again, startling me into silence. After a brief pause, he
continued. I didnt come here to accuse you of anything. I came here to thank you.
What?
For the other night, he added when he undoubtedly recognized the confused look
on my face.
Thank me?
You found me in the alleyway, did you not? I didnt get a good look at you, but I
never forget a face, or a voice. It was you. Another fact. This guy was way too sure of
himself. I took a moment to look him over again, from his shiny new shoes to the stripes
on his tailored suit. I paused at his face, where the cold eyes I had seen a month ago
on that fateful night bore into me. That one gaze did more to unnerve me than the
Italians blunt anger, which wasn't so easy to understand when I recalled finding him
sprawled out on his back, bleeding in a dark alley. Sure, he looked menacing when he
wasnt dying in a forgotten corner, and somehow intimidatingbut I knew better. He
was a wimp. That got mugged by a bum. Idiot.
Thats an awfully fucked up way to thank someone buddy, I grunted, shifting my
weight from one foot to the other as I glanced past his frame to the two thugs behind
him. Sending in your goons to knock me around, talking about how their boss wanted
to see me. What are you anyway, some kind of I-talian mob?
Vincenzo looked like he was about to jump out of his skin and try to crush me with the
sheer force of his weight. He probably wanted to punch me for touching his precious
boss white, new shirt with my filthy hands. Or maybe he wanted to knock some sense
into me for being such an arrogant bastard. Either way, the distaste I saw on his face
teased another smile onto my face. I loved the genuine responses he gave whenever I
pissed him off.

20

I apologize, Asher sounded sincere. My employees are not very discrete. Their
behavior was not warranted. I will have a talk with them. Behind him, I noticed the
Italian tense up. Are you hurt?
It was such a stupid question to ask, after he had practically forced me to his car, but
it reminded me of the stinging in my cheek and I instinctively reached up to brush my
fingers across the irritated flesh. Im fine, I grunted.
Will you join me in my car? he asked politely, too politely.
No.
Why not?
Because I dont like how you smell, I snarled. Vincenzo flinched forward, his fists
clenched.
I see, Asher continued in a smooth, controlled tone.
He just stared at me after that, like he was studying me, probably trying to figure out
what was going through my head. I didnt know why but that suddenly made me
nervous. I wanted to get as far away from him as I possibly could; so I turned, and
continued on down the street, this time doubling the speed of my steps. The shadow
followed.
What now? I groaned, pausing once again to glance over my shoulder.
If you will not join me in my car, then I shall have to join you on your walk. Where are
we going?
Excuse me? I gasped. My eyes grew wide with shock. I couldnt believe this guy!
What the hell did he want from me?
Where are we going? he repeated his question slower this time, like I was foreign
and if he somehow pronounced each word in a clear way, I would understand it.
I fucking heard you. Look, you wanted to thank me, you thanked me. Theyre
thanked, I pointed vigorously toward his two guards, who were still standing by the
car, Im thanked, youre thanked. Were ALL thanked. There is thankedness all
around. Now leave me alone, alright?
Before he could say anything, I turned again, this time pulling into a sprint down the
street. I ran as fast as I could, the can of dog food tucked against my chest and
protected with both hands. I didnt want to lose the only thing I had found that day,
21

but I wanted to escape the creep and his employees as fast as I could. So I ran, and
ran, until I was back into the upper part of town and I could drown myself into the
mass of bodies. When I turned around, he was nowhere in sight.
I sighed in relief as I made my way towards Annas Diner, stuffing the can into one of
my coats pockets so I didnt drop it with clusters of bodies bumping into me
simultaneously. Most tried to avoid any sort of contact with me, but I was hard to
avoid with so many other people around. The streets were always so busy at that time
of day.
I shoved my way through the mass and into the diner, huffing and puffing from all the
physical exertion. Behind the counter, Cassandra glanced up in my direction with a
recognizable scowl on her face. She had been working at Annas diner for months
now, and she still hadnt gotten used to the way I looked or smelledactually, she just
hated me. To her, I symbolized poverty and laziness that she stereotyped with every
homeless person curled up on the corner of the street. To her, I was just a beggar
looking for free hand-outs. She didnt know my relationship with Anna and Zack, and
therefore couldnt understand their affection toward me. I didnt blame her.
I smiled tauntingly in her direction and gave a short wave of my hand. She sneered
and turned away, putting on a faade of being busy by refilling someone elses cup
with the fresh coffee I was addicted to; the coffee only Anna could make.
Muffin! Zack poked his head out from the back, beaming in my direction the
moment I turned to greet him. I knew I smelled something sour! he joked.
Hey Zack, I smiled as I hobbled over to him. I knew the rules, and I wasnt allowed in
the backhygiene codes and all, so I stayed behind the counter as I excitedly waved
in his direction. It was good to see a safe, familiar face after being comforted by so
many I didnt know.
Ill be out in a second, just finishing up this batch of lemon squares. You want one?
he smiled that big warm smile of his, and I mindlessly nodded. They were going to be
delicious with my coffee.
Where is Anna? I hoisted myself up onto a stool as Zack disappeared into the
kitchen again, and Cassandra reluctantly made her way to me with no one else to
serve.
Out for a grocery run. Ugh, she paused several steps away, tilting her head to one
side. Shower much?
You offering to bathe me? I purred, leaning toward her as I gave a messy lick to my
upper lip.
22

Cassandra offered a mock gag and turned away from me, acting like she was about
to heave into the sink. I smiled and rocked back into my seat.
Oh Muffy! Sandys chipper voice suddenly chirped up next to me. She was the other
waitress that worked in Annas Diner. For some reason, Sandy actually liked me. Then
again, Sandy liked everyone.
Hey Sandy, I squirmed a bit in my seat as I glanced up at her. With her big curly red
hair and giant tits, I understood why most male customers enjoyed Sandys service at
their table. She had a fresh, warm personality that was addicting even though she
could be mindless sometimes.
Here you go, sugah, a fresh batch of coffee. I know how you like yer coffee, she
giggled as she pulled out my favorite green cup, filling it to the brim.
Thank you, Sandy, I pointedly turned to glare at Cassandra, who was done with her
act of throwing up and was once again glaring at me.
I was about to settle into a staring, or glaring depending on how you looked at it,
contest with her when she suddenly whisked her head away. Half the diner hushed,
with the occasional whisper between two people sitting together. I turned slowly in my
chair to follow her gaze, straight to the front door.
There he was, stupid Asher Pickett, standing alone in the doorway. I assumed he was
recognizable by the way people gawked at him; after all, he had been in the
newspapers for a while, so it made sense.
Groaning to myself, I shrank into my seat as I quickly jerked away, shrugging my
shoulders up against my chin while I let my face hang down between both of my
arms. Had he followed me? But how? I hadnt seen him, so how the hell did he see me
through such a big fucking crowd? As the usual chatter in the diner picked back up, I
heard footsteps heading towards me. I hunched over further in my seat, curling in on
myself. Maybe if I closed my eyes, I would disappear, and so would he.
Hello.
This isnt happening, this isnt happening, this isnt happening.
May I sit here?
This isnt happening, this isnt happening, this cant be happening!
Is this seat taken? His voice sounded further away. He was asking someone else.
23

I-I dont think so, it was Cassandra. She sounded as dumbstruck as I felt. I couldnt
believe I actually let him follow me to my safe spot, my home away from home. I
should have been more careful.
Thank you, he replied politely, and I heard the fabric of his coat shift as he
presumably brushed it back to let himself sit. I didn't plan on letting him do so
comfortably.
It is! I suddenly sat up straight, spinning around to slam both palms down on the seat.
It is. This seat is taken, sorry, youll have to find another one, I blurted. Sandy and
Cassandra both gawked at me from behind the counter, their expressions stunned
and frazzled.
Alright, Asher replied calmly. He shifted back, moving away from the stool on my
right to slowly make his way around to the one on my left.
That one is taken too! Theyre all taken! Sorry, the diner is out of business, youll have
to leave! I exclaimed frantically. I wanted him out of there, out of the diner that
meant so much to me and away from the people that I held close to my heart. Asher
arched both eyebrows at my quizzical actions.
Oh Muffin, stop that, Zack said as he reappeared from behind the kitchen doors. I
damned his rumbly, gentle voice to all seven levels of hell as he bounded up next to
me, and slid a plate of freshly sliced lemon squares in my direction.
Muffin, Asher echoed my name. I winced at his voice, and the smooth way the word
rolled off his tongue. It wasnt my real name, just a nickname, but as far as he knew it
might have been just that.
I didnt I began, only to be drowned out by Zacks big, booming, hearty laughter.
Please, have a seat! What can I get for you? We have the best coffee in the city, and
I just made some lemon squares and blueberry muffins. Fresh out the oven! I know
most people dont eat them hot, but some people prefer it that way. Muffin here likes
my lemon squares hot, dont you Muffin? He smirked as I winced, but it was a
rhetorical question and he didnt wait for a response. Do you know Muffin? he
turned his attention back to Asher, who had conveniently taken the seat to my right.
Weve met, Asher replied politely. I was beginning to hate his utterly polite tone
wait, beginning? No, I hated him, his striped suit, and his stupid tone. Why the hell did
he follow me?

24

I dont know him, I snarled, looking up first at Zack, then over to Asher. And I told
you, that seat is taken.
Ah, Muffin? Zack trailed off, obviously uncomfortable by my unwarranted hostility.
You dont belong here. And youre not welcomed. Leave, I lashed out.
Damn him and the irritable sense of calm on his face. He didnt look the slightest bit
annoyed at my rude, inconsiderate tone. He reached up quietly, grabbing my lemon
square off my plate and breaking off a small piece before he raised it up against his
lips. It slid in effortlessly, lost in the folds of his lips and what I could only imagine was his
tongue. He let out a deep, guttural sound that sounded like a moan, and I felt my
throat tighten.
Ah, these are delicious. Ive never tried one warm before, Asher gave a small smile
to Zack, which the other man mirrored. It was like I'd never spoken. The nerve!
Are you deaf? Did you not hear me? Or did you just not understand me? Huh?
Hablas ingles? Parles-tu langlais? I seethed rudely, half angry that he had followed
me, half angry that he stole my fucking lemon square. Seriously, who does that? It was
clearly my lemon square. "I'll be more clear this time. Get the fuck out."
Again, there was barely a reaction. He didnt get mad at all. In fact, this time I saw his
lips edge up in a small smile as he gave an almost apologetic bow of his head. I
managed a smug grin when he stood from his stool and turned to leave.
I guess he understood that better, I scoffed as I turned back to the three people
behind the counter. I wasnt surprised to see Zacks disapproving frown, Sandy's
worried expression or Cassandras glare, but I was shocked to see Anna standing just a
few steps away. She looked downright disappointed in me, and my heart sank.
Ah, I quickly stood up, like I was about to redeem myself somehow, but I didnt have
a clue as to how the fuck I was supposed to pull that off after being so rude. She
looked so broken, so sad, like all her efforts to teach me manners had gone to shit in
that one second. Why did she have to walk in then? Why? I didnt know what to say to
her, or anyone else for that matter, it felt like the entire diner was suddenly so ashamed
to be in my presence. Wait, I suddenly gasped, hopping off my seat to race out the
door. I didnt mean it, but I blurted it out anyway; Im sorry!
Asher didnt look back at me; he pushed his way out through the diner door and
immediately took a left. With Annas devastated look burning a hole in my brain, I
pushed my way out into the cold, trying to wrestle through the ruthless sea of people in
a sad attempt to follow him. I had to apologize, not for him, but for Annafor my own
conscience.
25

Wait, wait! Hey, you! Come on, wait a minute! I hissed as I reached an opening
along the edge of the sidewalk, at a light that only seconds later chirped for everyone
to cross. The wave of bodies hit me again, pushing me straight into the street. I caught
sight of the suited man with his tawny trenchcoat take a left, and I broke away from
the mass to follow him. He turned another sharp corner, behind a Chinese restaurant,
and I damned him to hell for ignoring me. First he followed me like a lost puppy, now
he was running away from me like a startled jackrabbit.
I turned the corner.
Suddenly, there was a constriction on my throat, right beneath my chin. Two fingers
steadily pushed down on the pressure points on either side of my neck, making me
feel woozy as my body staggered back against a brick wall. I wheezed, jolts of color
flashing before my eyes from the impact my skull made with the rough surface behind
me. I half expected to see Vincenzo when my sight cleared, but it wasnt him.
It was Asher, towering over me again. I could feel his anger in the slight tremor of his
fingers where they squeezed on my flesh, but his face didnt show it. He looked as
calm and collected as before, with the smallest hint of a frown on his lips.
Cant breathe! I choked on my own air, while both of my hands frantically
slapped their dirty palms against the tight hold on my throat. I was beginning to feel
light headed, my brain was pounding, and the hold wasnt getting any looser.
Do you want me to let go? His voice sounded icy, cold. It matched the hazy hue of
his eyes; the color was a distant relative of blue but a close friend to green. Fuck, I
couldnt tell if they were steel or grey, they were too close. Or was it the fact that my
brain wasnt getting enough oxygen?
I managed a small squeak out of my narrowed windpipe, and his fingers retracted the
slightest bit, allowing air back into my lungs until I could correctly breathe again.
What the fuck! I gasped, my voice broken. His hand was still on my throat, and when
I tried to push it away it felt solid in its placement. Let go, you ungrateful ingrate! He
didnt budge. It hurts! No reaction. I cant breathe! I wheezed. Nothing, he didn't
even seem to hear me. Im sorry, I burst, and this time his hold completely loosened.
But he kept his fingers curled delicately around my throat, like a fragile pearl necklace
that was meant to hang off my neck.
Yes, I suppose you are. I, too, apologize for my crude behavior, he murmured
absentmindedly.

26

I didnt try to pull at his hand this time; I slowly lowered my filthy fingers and pressed
them down against my sides. My right hand slid into my pocket, where the heavy can
of dog food weighed down my jacket. The edges of the lid were still sharp, I could
have used it as a weapon if I needed to.
He seemed to catch on to what I was thinking, because he immediately glanced
down to follow the movement of my hand, yet he made no move to stop me. I mean
you no harm, he said after a moment. I could have laughed, but I was too terrified.
Like I said, I only came to thank you for saving my life.
Saving his what?
It is a heavy burden. I am not accustomed to owing anyone anything. But to you, I
owe my life, he continued. My head was spinning, and this time it wasnt because of
lack of oxygen.
You dont owe me anything, I insisted, hoping I could release him of his supposed
burden and send him on his merry way, but apparently my answer was the wrong one.
He tightened his hold again, not enough to choke me, just enough to send my heart
into fifth gear.
I do, there was no infliction in his voice; he still sounded calm and collected. And
until that favor is repaid, youll be seeing a lot of more of me, a pause, Though I must
admit, meeting here is rather inconvenient. Suddenly, we were back to talking about
the weather. His hand slid away from my throat, and even though I didnt need to, I
took in an exaggerated, longwinded breath.
Oh, great, so youre going to try to kill me and then save me from yourself? I
muttered as I reached up to rub at my throat. Suddenly I wanted to know how such a
violent man could look so stoic, and how the fuck he got mugged by a bum if he was
so damn strong.
No, another fact. This guy wasnt good at showing emotion with his voice. I will help
you, fact again. I sneered at his fixed gaze as he reached one hand down into his
pocket, fishing out a business card. Predictably, it had his name on it, along with an
address and a phone number.
What am I supposed to do with this? I plucked the card from his hand, turning it
once to make sure the back was blank before attempting to read the address.
You will come to see me tomorrow, at seven oclock. I dont tolerate tardiness, and if
you insist on being absent all together, I will have my men fetch you, he informed me.
I had a vague mental image of just how his men would fetch me, especially dear
Vincenzo.
27

What the hell? I dont want your help! You cant force your help on people! Hey
hey! Where are you going? Come back here! I snarled as Asher turned away from
me, moving back toward the street.
And to think I actually came to apologize to the jerk. His nerve was absolutely
astonishing; I had never met a man so full of himself. Obviously, I detested him, but
there was something about him that kept me watching as he melted into the crowd. I
wasnt the only one, others turned to let him pass, or simply stare at him. I noted how
tall he was, and how the expensive fabric of his suit hugged his body as he pulled into
a swift stride to the recognizable black car parked across the street. Alrick popped out
the driver-side door to open the door for him, and he turned back to give me a quick
glance with his murky, cold eyes.
I had to wonder who would be stupid enough to try and mug him.

28

I didnt go back to the diner after what happened. I just couldnt stand to see Annas
face again, and I needed some time to think about Ashers offer. It felt more like
blackmail, except that he had nothing on me. Still, something compelled me to go to
the address on the back of the business card the next morning. I lingered outside of
the large building with the big silver letters spelling out Pickett across the front. It was
right in the middle of the city, one of those skyscrapers that tourists always marked on
their maps so that they could just walk by it and gaze in awe. I, on the other hand, had
never heard of the damned thing. I had probably seen it, or walked by it a few times,
but I never spared the time to actually look at it.
The building structure itself was marvelous, it looked just like a painting with a stainless
steel frame and glass used as the medium. Several security guards tried to shoo me
away when I loitered too long outside the rotating glass door, but I kept coming back.
By eight oclock, I still hadnt managed the nerve to try to walk into the nice, clean
environment.
About half an hour later, I saw two familiar goons slip out the front doors. Instantly, I felt
my stomach flip at the recollection of the threat issued to me the day before. If I didnt
show up, they were supposed to come fetch me. Was that what they were doing
now? My body suddenly propelled forward, throwing me out from behind a telephone
and straight into their line of sight.
Im here, I gasped, stepping in front of them with my hands extended out on either
side of my body. I didnt want them going anywhere in search of me, especially since I
was sure their first destination would be Annas Diner.
So you are. Alrick blinked at me in confusion, like he hadnt expected to see me.
Wait, what?
Out of the way, punk. Vincenzo shoved right past me and continued on down the
street without even sparing me a greeting. I didnt blame him; I had pushed the guys
buttons pretty bad the first time we met. Clearly, he was very sensitive. Sweet.
Werent you.. two.. coming to find me? I frowned up at Alrick, who proved to be
nice enough to wait until I was done talking before he walked away.

29

No, we were going to get some lunch, he paused, mirroring my frown. Did you
want to come with us?
The pity in his voice shot through me like a pint of adrenaline. I quickly wrinkled my
nose into my face, narrowed my eyes, and hissed a puff of air out between my
clenched teeth.
You wish, I huffed, and then turned to stomp my way into the ridiculously clean, shiny
building. Even the floor looked spotless, which I wasnt sure how they managed with so
many people walking in and out of the building at all times. I didnt turn to see if Alrick
had disappeared along with his partner, I had a feeling he was still watching me, and
that drove me straight to the receptionist.
Can I uh help you? she hesitated, giving a quick glance to security before
looking back at me.
No, I stated angrily. Not unless you can take a hacksaw to Asher Picketts head,
whom Im only assuming is your boss because his name is written on the building and
youre nothing but a lowly receptionist. But considering your lack of skill, or perhaps
experience, that has you trapped behind this ridiculous looking moon shaped table, I
doubt you even know how to use a hacksaw.
Security! she screeched before I was even finished speaking. How utterly rude of her!
Its alright, Marcy, I heard that familiar German accent, faint but still recognizable.
Glancing over my shoulder, I assured myself of Alricks presence, and what I detected
to be a small smirk on his lips. I know him. He gave me a wink, like we were lifelong
friends, and I suddenly realized that I didnt really like him. People that winked just
shouldnt be allowed to live.
No you dont, I pointed out easily as he rested a heavy hand on my shoulder and
nudged me in the correct direction, towards the elevator.
You have a way of making enemies very quickly, dont you? he smiled at me easily,
seeming to somehow find humor in the situation.
Was I supposed to make friends? I barked.
It wouldnt hurt to be polite, he offered the same parental advice every adult ever
gave me.
It doesnt hurt to be rude, I grumbled, spurring a hearty chuckle from him.

30

He paused in front of the elevator, letting me step in first, then bent forward to poke his
head into the metal box. Reaching towards the many buttons with black numbers
etched across the surface, he pressed the second and third button simultaneously. At
first, I thought it was a mistake.
Hes right upstairs? I pointed up, looking slightly frazzled. He was on the second or
third floor? Why couldnt I just take the stairs?
Not quite. A bit higher. Give him my regards, and be safe, eh? he warned just before
the two sliding doors closed in front of his face.
What is that supposed to mean? I lurched forward, attempting to slide my hands in
between the closing contraption to open it again, but they continued to come
together and I chickened out. Alrick offered another chuckle just as the doors clicked
shut. A familiar sense of claustrophobia crept up the back of my neck, tightening my
throat as my heart sped up. I tried not to focus on how the walls suddenly seemed
closer together than five seconds ago, and instead reordered my thoughts on what I
would say once I met Asher Pickett. With my hands safely tucked back in my pockets, I
staggered to one corner and pouted as I focused my eyes on the flickering number at
the top.
Two three four
I passed several floors without stopping once. On floor seventeen two women were
about to step inside when they caught my scent, and then instantly decided against
joining me. I smiled at them regardless, enjoying how they glanced at each other in
utter confusion. They were probably wondering if they should call security.
Twenty one twenty two twenty three
And higher. Where was I going? I suspected the combination of two and three meant
23, but that number had a button of its own, and I was already scaling past the twenty
fifth floor. 32, perhaps? I gave a quick glance to the perfectly aligned row of buttons,
finding the last one to be 31.
My eyes flickered up to the light at the top. Twenty eight twenty nine Question
mark?
I swallowed thickly, feeling reasonably unnerved by the picture of twin question marks
flickering beside the up arrow. Great, I was going up to a floor that didnt exist.
The door dinged open a few seconds later, the question marks still haunting me, and
the silence that ensued sent my nerves on a roller coaster. Wonderful, I was probably

31

going to get chopped up into tiny pieces and sold, in organ combinations, on the
black market.
I licked at my upper lip as I stepped onto the plain grey carpet, and turned to glance
down an unbelievably long stretch of floor. Vertigo instantly hit me. I felt like I was in
the middle of The Shining and Jack was going to come running around the corner,
screaming Heres Johnny!
I half expected to see the creepy two girls appear at the end of the hallway, holding
hands and staring at me, wanting me to play with them. There were no doors on either
side, it was just a long hallway that looked like it went straight into a window. Was this a
hint? Was I supposed to jump? My sense of depth must have been screwed up by the
long elevator ride up, because apparently there was distance between the actual
doorway and the window; and Asher stepped up right in between them before I
could run away screaming.
He didnt say anything, and from the distance between us I was a bit surprised at
myself for recognizing him. But then again, who else would it be? He had a glass in his
hand, which he swirled elegantly before he raised it up to his lips. The clinking of ice
cubes echoed all the way down to my end of the hall, sending a shiver down my
spine. Without a word, he turned to disappear behind the doorway. I took that as my
hint to approach himI should have probably just left. Not sure why I didnt. Curiosity, I
suppose.
Inhaling a respectable amount of oxygen, I clenched my fists and began marching
down the hall. The light at the end of the tunnel, or rather the window, gave me
something to focus on as I charged on forward. I didnt dare exhale until I reached the
end of the hallway, just before I stepped past the threshold into the actual room.
Though room wasnt quite the correct word for it, it was more like a grand ballroom, or
a church without all the pews lined up in the front. I planned on saying something
witty, or just downright rude, but my mouth only hung open in awe.
A couple of leather couches littered the front of the room, joined by fickle things like
lamps and coffee tables. Everything was grey and blue in nature, with the occasional
black ornament, but the lack of vibrant color brought a sense of coldness to the area
that brought a chill to my fingertips. There was nothing particularly personal about the
room, no pictures or accessorizing items that hinted at likes or dislikes. Only a huge
tank full of aquatic pets adorned the right wall, probably the most expensive
decoration present, and the left wall was all glass.
He was sitting at a dark oak desk on the far end of the room, with nothing but a huge
window behind him. It was tinted, for sun or privacy reasons, but I could still make out
the fact that there was literally nothing there. It was all clear sky. How high was I?

32

Sorry Im late. I stopped walking a few feet away from his desk. I wasnt really sorry,
but it seemed like the right thing to say.
Are you? He narrowed those murky eyes at me, and I felt my heart jump. Fuck, fine.
There was no point beating around the bush if he was going to be demeaning about
it.
No, I answered honestly, spurred on by his blunt question. I didnt want to come at
all, but I didnt want you to sick your hounds on me either. Frankly, I dont even know
why Im here.
I have already informed you of why, he lowered his glass, slowly placing it down on
a coaster. The ice cubes didnt clink this time, and I found myself glaring at them. I
have a debt to pay. I owe you my life, and I plan on returning the favor.
This guy couldnt get any creepier. I still wasnt used to the way his voice felt so empty,
and yet somehow managed not to be the boring monotone the average history
teacher pulled off.
You dont owe me anything, I didnt know what I was saying. I should have taken
advantage of him, he was obviously rich, but I just wanted him off my back. I didnt
save your life. I just called an ambulance. There wasnt any mouth-to-mouth
resuscitation, and it wasnt like I pulled a poisonous knife out of your side. I just found
you. That doesnt warrant you owing me your life.
You called. He nodded, latching onto that one part of my speech.
Yes My voice was already past irritation; this guys cool, collected manner was
driving me up the wall. His selective listening didnt help either.
You could have taken my phone, stripped me of my clothing, and left me there to
die, he pointed out. It had never occurred to me, but I suddenly wished I had. I
should have left him there to die.
Yes, I frowned. I saw where this was going, but it still didnt mean he owed me
anything.
You didnt, he continued. Repetition, much? I got it buddy, lets move on.
Yes, great. Thank you for the summary of what happened. I had clearly forgotten.
You dazzle me with your memory. Brava, I scoffed. So what now? You going to give
me money or something? A reward?

33

I wasnt smiling and he must have noticed that was something off, since while any
other person might have jumped at a chance for a handout, I was put off by it. I didnt
want a handout. I didnt want charity. If he ended up giving me anything, I had
already decided on giving it away.
Yes, he finally spoke after a pregnant pause. I think it gave birth to triplets.
Awesome, how much?
How much do you think you deserve?
I had to think about that. Zero, technically, but what did he think I should ask for? A
couple thousand? A million? His first born child?
How much are you worth? I grinned.
He arched both eyebrows at the cockiness that was steadily rising in me. He took a
moment to reach down to his glass and wrap his fingers around it, giving it a small
shake. The ice cubes clinked again. A lot, he admitted. Really? I would have never
guessed.
A lot, then. If I saved your life, I should get what your life is worth. You can write me a
check, I beamed, suddenly happy with myself. I could give the money to Anna, her
diner needed a new stove in the back and she would be delighted to have a new
layer of paint on the inner walls. I didnt know how I would explain where I got the
money from, though
No, he stated matter-of-factly. His response was so brief and sudden that I wasnt
sure I had heard it at first.
No? What do you mean, no? You just gave me all this shit about how you owe me
your life and that you want to repay me, so fucking repay me. Cough up the dough
and get the fuck out of my life! I yelled, stomping one foot forward.
That cold mask of his instantly broke. His lips twitched up into a smile and he lowered
his glass back to its coaster as he slowly leaned forward in his chair. His murky, arctic
eyes locked onto mine, making me wonder once again what the color I saw was
called.
What are you grinning at? I snapped, trying to sound as threatening and rude as I
possibly could. Instead, my voice cracked, and he noticed.
Hmm, this predicament, he stated in all his superiority.

34

What predicament? There is no predicament. Youre just a fucking psycho bipolar

bastard thats bored with his fucking boring life, so youre just playing with me, right? I
bet you didnt even get mugged to begin with. You probably pissed off the wrong
people because youre a rich boy with a gambling problem. Or you probably tried to
kill yourself because youre so fucking bored of all your money and the way people
kiss your feet. Or your ass. I dont know your personal fetish, but you can probably buy
whatever you want. Including entertainment. So get off my case, alright? I blurted in
frustration, with all notion of censorship completely out of the window.
Something I said struck a nerve with him; his smile melted back into oblivion and he
stood up in one elegant stride. Making his way around his desk, he approached me,
and I immediately backed up. The image of him choking me behind the Chinese
restaurant was fresh in my mind, and I didnt plan on letting him get his hands on me
again. Not that anything I planned ever worked out.
I stepped away from him until something hard brushed against the arch of my knees.
They instantly buckled, letting me pummel to the couch I had conveniently been
backed up tothere, he paused, once again towering over me. I gulped audibly,
which somehow made his tense stance loosen a bit.
He bent down, placing both hands on either side of my head along the back of the
couch. His thumbs rounded in towards my temples and I felt his breath momentarily
crush mine as he exhaled against my face. I could smell the thick stench of alcohol on
his breath; it was the same one the Bumsville folk had when they got completely drunk
just to keep their insides warm on a cold night, but Asher didnt look drunk. His eyes
stayed focused on mine, easily maintaining contact. The insides of my mouth dried up,
finding the proximity of his body both intimidating and frightening. My heart raged like
a trapped beast in my chest, violently trying to escape. I forced my lips slowly apart in
a faint attempt to speak, but my voice box didnt want to play along. A faint sound
climbed up my throat, then faltered before it could touch my tongue.
No, I dont think I will, he said as he suddenly drew back. I had to wonder if he was
talking about giving me the money, or if there was something else on his mind. He
didnt give me much time to ponder it though; his next statement quickly snapped me
out of my thoughts. Instead of money, I will reward you with my care.
Your what? I gaped.
My care. You will be under my guidance until further notice. There was a sense of
amusement in his voice. I should have been pissed, but I was downright shocked that
he was capable of changing his tone.
W-w-wait a minute. What the hell are you talking about? Youre not my mother, or.. or
anything to me! Fuck your care! And fuck your money! My head was spinning again,
35

the ground didnt feel steady and I didnt trust myself on my feet. I remained stunned
on the couch as he continued to loom over me.
Well work on that first. Your vocabulary. He furrowed his eyebrows a bit as
something else seemed to spark his interest. And your manners. Yes, well need to
work on those as well.
I was up on my feet now, frantically panicking, while the walls of the enormous room
seemed to be closing in on me. With every word he spoke, I felt like he was trapping
me; adding one more link to the chain he was slowly wrapping around my throat. The
bow tie was complimentary.
No! I reeled.
I will arrange for you to have an apartment of your own, he was ignoring me again,
walking back to his desk. New clothes, of course, and perhaps a part time job. That
will teach you about responsibility, and manners. You will have to
NO! I screamed at the top of my lungs, childishly stomping my foot.
He turned to glance at me, with my fists clenched at my sides, my chest heaving, and
all the frustration in the world flashing across my face.
In my line of work, people dont say no to me. It sounded like a threat.
Maybe its time to rethink your line of work! I yelled back. I was shaking in anger,
reasonably upset with how easily he thought he could take over my life. No, he made
it sound like he had a right to do it.
He gave me a moment of silence to calm down, but it didnt work. After another
scrutinizing look, he spoke again.
How old are you?
The question was so far off from what we were talking about, in my head, that it sent
me into a state of shock again. I blubbered something unintelligible.
Speak up, he ordered. Shifting his weight, Asher leaned back on the edge of his desk
as he picked up his glass of what I assumed to be more alcohol and carelessly sipped
at it. The ice cubes clinked again. I shivered. My eyes flickered away from him as my
nerves tingled, darting first to the window behind him, then to the surface of his desk.
There was a small basket of chocolate chip muffins behind him, which I took as an
insult to my nickname.

36

Thats none of your god damn business, I pouted.

If you tell me, Ill let you off the hook, he offered. I didnt trust him, but at least there
was a small ray of light at the end of the tunnel.
Twenty three, I said quickly.
Try again, he called my bluff.
Fine, twenty two, but Im almost twenty three, I tried again.
He arched his eyebrows at me in silence, clearly not buying into my charade.
Okay, fine, Im twenty.
Still, silence.
I am, Im twenty, I growled, flustered.
When were you born?
My brain suddenly drew a blank. I couldnt think of whether to count forward or
backward. It was 2008, so the correct year would have been..
1988, I said as quickly as my mind brought up the number. He chuckled at my lie
and gave a nod, making me doubt my math. That was twenty, right? Right?
And your name is? he pushed his luck.
I thought you were going to let me off the hook? I snarled at him, my anger spiking
back up while he remained calm and utterly collected.
I was, but you didnt tell me your real age, did you? Now, Im giving you another
chance. I suggest taking it. What is your name?
I hated Asher. I hated his murky, strange eyes, and the constant air of supremacy he
held around him even without anyone around to impress. This was a game he was
playing with me, except he was the only one that knew the rules. I could have very
easily turned the game back on him, but I didnt want to play anymore. I missed my
diner, I missed my coffee, and I missed my cold streets. I could have given him a fake
name, I should have, but I was too god damn stubborn. I didnt want him to win,
regardless of whether it would benefit me or not. So I kept my big trap shut for once,
refusing to answer him.

37

Muffin? he tried, his smooth voice instantly making me cringe.

Fuck you, my voice cracked. He sighed at my favorite word, giving me a hint that he
was about to attack my limited vocabulary again. Before he could, I turned to stomp
past the couch and towards the long hallway of doom.
Wait, he called after me.
I scowled at his voice. Yeah, right, like I was going to listen to anything he said. I should
have never come in the first place, it was like I was begging for trouble. I didnt know
just how much trouble until I felt an unseen force jerk me back, clear off my feet.
I hadnt heard him approach, an advantage of his perfect shoes on his perfect
carpet, and he had gained on me much faster than I thought possible. Butterflies of
dust flew off my skin, hair and clothing as I went spiraling back, past his form and
straight to the floor. I never had a chance to catch myself, the momentum was too
great for my poor elbows to even keep my head from colliding with the floor. He
extended one foot out toward me, placing his freshly polished shoe down on the
tattered fabric of my shirt as he pinned me to the floor.
You dont listen well to instruction, do you? he frowned down at me.
My throat burned from the cry of surprise I had swallowed, a strange sensation that
was somehow mirrored in the ache of my struggling lungs. I wheezed a groan and he
drove his heel deeper into my chest, right against my ribcage.
Fuck I began, about to add the irrepressible you when he reached down to grab
a hold of my collar and jerk me up. His leg slid back smoothly, giving his arm enough
access to pull me straight to my feet.
But its okay. I know the kind of instruction you will take, he sighed and I had a
feeling I was about to find out what he meant, so I didnt ask. My head swam with the
rapid movements my body continued to make without my permission, reminding me
of my earlier stroke of vertigo. Ill make this very easy for you. You will listen to what I
tell you to do. You will not walk away from me, and I will advise you now of the severity
of turning your back to me. Do you follow? He paused for my response, but I only
glared at him. Ill take that as a yes. Dont take my actions as an attempt to try to do
something for you. Clearly, you dont know whats good for you, and itll only confuse
your young mind. Ive told you already, I will help you. I owe you my life, the least I can
do is try to better yours, whether you like it or not. The best thing I can do for now is get
you cleaned up and back to school.
At the mention of school, I immediately opened my mouth. He caught the slight
action of my chin flexing, and just as my tongue rolled, his other hand moved up to
38

shove my lower jaw back up against my upper jaw. My teeth snapped with an
audible click.
The polite thing to do is wait for the adult to finish talking before you begin. Do you
understand? he tugged down on my chin, forcing my head into a nod. Good, he
added snidely.
Regardless of what he had done before, I hadnt expected the sudden turnaround
now. When I tried to piss the guy off, he barely reacted, but when I didnt expect
anything from him, he lashed out like an angry king cobra. Come to think of it, he
looked more and more like a snake, with oddly predatory eyes.
The longer I remained silent, the looser his hold became on my clothes, until he finally
released me. Whisking away from him, I quickly darted over to the elevator and
pounded my knuckles against the down button. I didnt expect it to ding open so
quickly, considering how high up I was and how other people would have surely tried
to use the elevator, but it opened as quickly as I hit the down arrow.
One more thing, he said as I darted into the metal confinement, rapidly hitting the
first button with an L etched into it. I dont tolerate tardiness. You were an hour and
half late, so there will be an appropriate punishment later.
I gulped nervously, but now that I had my distance and the safety of the elevator
doors closing, I found the bravado to speak again. I should have left you there to
die, I snapped crudely.
Yes, perhaps you should have, he chuckled gently, even sparing me a smile, just
before the elevator doors slid shut.

39

He was in my goddamn diner the next morning, sitting in the same seat he had taken
the first day he ventured in. To my utter surprise, he was talking to Anna, who was
grinning ear to ear.
Muffy! Sandy happily waved in my direction, announcing my presence to all those
that hadnt yet caught the scent of me.
Asher turned in his stool, acknowledging me with a solid glare. I recalled his harsh
voice from the day before, the almost sad smile on his face after I had damned him to
death, and I couldnt help but scowl.
Dont you have someone else to stalk? I grumbled as I grudgingly made my way
over to the counter. Pointedly, I sat several stools away, as far away as I possibly could.
He might just go Dr. Jekyll and Hyde on me again, after all.
Instead of responding, he picked up his drink and sipped silently at the edge of the
cup, ever the polite one.
No? No business? No houses to burn down, people to shove into walls? Nothing?
Now I know I should have been scared of this man, since there was obviously
something mentally wrong with him, and he had a lot of power in his handsboth
physically and monetarily, but that just pissed me off more. I had a feeling he always
got his way, and I didnt want him to get his way, especially if it included me sacrificing
what little I had. In this case, he was demanding that I sacrifice the most important
thing of all my freedom. And not for any valid reason, no, this was all happening
because he had some twisted sense of justice and apparently the scales wouldnt be
even until he repaid me. I should have never gone into that alleyway.
Not yet, he replied bluntly. I went rigid in my seat while Anna gave a light laugh,
because even though she was completely ignorant, I had tasted what he was
capable of.
From behind the long stretch of counter, Anna pulled out my favorite green cup. She
leveled it on the surface as she fetched her pot of coffee, using it to quietly fill up my

40

cup to the brim. Without demanding that I say please and thank you, she slid the drink
over to me. Wow, she was in a good mood today.
Where is Zack? I asked quietly, as if that would somehow keep Asher from learning
the name or of my intentions.
Oh, he went Hes not here right now. You never told me you knew Mr. Pickett. She
changed the subject abruptly. My stomach did a somersault, instantly sending out
sparks of nausea all through my core.
Huh? What? Mister who? I furrowed my eyebrows, unable to get past the fact that
she had, with no grace or elegance, changed the subject.
My sense of nausea grew ten fold when Anna pointed one finger down the length of
the counter, to the familiar man in the tawny coat I was quickly beginning to think was
one of his personality traits. His suits kept changing, but that coat was the same.
Maybe he felt naked without it. I wondered for a moment how he had gotten the
blood out of it, but as he turned to let his eyes meet mine, I decided I didnt care.
Oh, Mr. Prickett, I mumbled, raising my cup of coffee up to my lips as I tilted it
towards me, allowing the hot, soothing liquid inside to appease the inside of my
mouth.
Dont be rude, Muffin. Annas expression instantly darkened. You have manners,
put them to good use, she hissed in what was supposed to be a whisper, except that
she forgot to lower her volume. Smooth.
Mr. Pickett tells me that hes gotten you a job. Im so excited for you! she smiled as
she pulled out a worn cloth from her apron, swinging it around to the top of the
counter, where she began to slowly wipe at the surface. I knew it was just an action to
make it look like she had a purpose standing next to me, but she was only curious
about my connection with the psychotic businessman. I didnt blame her.
A job? I chortled, almost choking on my coffee.
Yes, the one down by the docks, she trailed off, her big smile fading. He said he
came to pick you up isnt that what you two were discussing the other day? Her
hand stopped short of a wax-on, and it suddenly clicked why she was in such a good
mood. Asher had probably explained away all my rudeness for me. Damn him.
Right... the one by the docks. I uh, forgot that was today, I quickly picked up on the
lie where he had left off. I just couldnt see Anna so depressed, and thankfully she lit up
like a bulb the moment she was assured it was all true. The bad part? I was letting

41

Asher see my weakness; this sweet womans approval, and there was nothing I could
do about it yet.
We should probably get going, his voice came from my left. His perfect shoes
echoed up toward me, their flawless soles clicking where mine would have merely
squeaked. He leaned down toward me when he next spoke. Or well be late.
Late. Tardiness. Haha, wasnt he just the clever one?
Im not done with my coffee, I growled as nicely as I could, keeping my eyes locked
onto Annas smile as I took a deliberately big gulp.
Well get more on the way, he stated in that matter-of-fact tone of his. Reaching
out, he grabbed the bottom of my beloved cup and jerked down, ripping it from my
grip. As I began to sputter and gasp in protest, he hooked his grip onto my dirty arm
and jerked carelessly, removing me from the seat. Cassandra immediately moved
over to clean the unsanitary residue I left behind.
Oh, I almost forgot. Miss Anna? Could I have a couple of those corn muffins? To go,
that is, he paused at the door, holding my arm well above my head. I had a mental
image of it popping out of its socket, so I didnt pull. Plus, Anna was watching me.
Sure thing! she exclaimed excitedly.
Without waiting for her to bag up the treats, or going back to fetch them himself,
Asher led me out of the diner. There werent many people around so early in the
morning, so he easily found a path over to the curb where his car was parked. I
immediately noticed the absence of dear Vincenzo and his buddy Alrick. Oh no, who
would open the door for him now? And he was crazy if he thought I was going to get
into that car. Well, crazier than he already was.
Anna suddenly burst from her diners double doors, scuttling our way with her apron
still tied tightly around her waist. She came right up to us, by the car, and Asher finally
let go of me to open the car door.
Oh shit, I knew what the bastard was doing.
Here you go now, dear, I put in two muffins for you each. I hope you like them, she
trilled happily after handing me the bag, then gave a brief clap of her hands that
could only be taken as excitement.
My throat tightened with guilt. If I didnt enter the car, it would become obvious that
there was no job by the docks. If I refused his ride and suggested walking, Anna

42

would know something was amiss. I couldnt back out with her watching me, and I
knew that was exactly what he was counting on.
Thanks, I conceded, giving in to his scheme and slipping into the car with the muffins
in hand. Round one went to the businessman.
I considered darting back out before he could get into the drivers sideand I was a
little shocked he could drivebut Anna stood on the sidewalk and waved until the car
was well out of sight.
That was good, I derided, with some effort. Cheap, but good. Didnt take you for a
con man.
I do what is needed. Can I have one of those muffins?
I stubbornly slammed both hands down on the rolled up edge of the paper bag. No.
Fine, he agreed coolly. The car jerked to the side with a turn of the wheel, and I flew
against the passenger door with no seatbelt to ground me. The bag rocked in my
hand, the car swerved again, and this time I smashed into the other hard surface on
the opposite sideI smashed into him. His shoulder felt like a brick wall.
The bag of muffins flew right out of my hands, levitating inches away from my lap with
the momentum of the cars movement suspending it in midair. A hand snuck out from
my left, grabbed the edge of the brown container, and lurched it away from me. By
the time the car was back in its lane, and the vehicles around us had stopped
honking, the muffins were no longer in my possession.
What.. what.. I stuttered, hysterically reaching up to my right for the seatbelt, which I
diligently swung across my core and buckled into place. Seatbelts were good, yes,
very good.
I do what is needed, he repeated, retracting one fresh muffin from within the bag. I
didnt try to stop him; I was too busy trying to put back all the imaginary internal
organs that had leapt out of my core when the deathtrap was steered off course. Did
I mention I hate cars?
You didnt have to do that! I rasped the moment I found my voice again.
I did ask, it was a succinct reply.
I remained nervously jittery for the rest of the ride. My hands dug uncomfortably into
either side of my seat, and I kept both of my feet in a permanent break position, like I
was pounding down on some magical pedal that would stop the car. Several times, I

43

thought of jumping out, but the speed always remained high enough to keep me
rooted in my seat. I doubted that was an accident.
When we arrived at the docks, I was actually surprised. Really? It wasnt all a lie?
The moment the car came to a stop, I snapped my seatbelt off and sprung out of the
vehicle. It felt oddly fitting to be back on solid ground. I considered kneeling down
and kissing the pavement, but I didnt want to dirty my mouth any more than it
already was. Still, I moved over to the curb in the small parking lot and crouched down
closer to gravity, thanking its existence.
You should really take a bath of some sort. You practically blend into the pavement,
his shadow loomed over me.
I glowered. Good, then pretend you dont see me and walk on.
You would like that, wouldnt you? I heard him chuckle. It was actually a pleasant
sound this time, but it didnt last long. But Im here to help you, remember? he
reminded me, like I really needed reminding.
And I dont want your help, remember?
A bath would benefit you, as well, he pressed on.
Well in my line of work, people dont take showers, I immediately took a stab at what
he had said the day before. One for the homeless kid!
Perhaps its time to rethink your line of work, he stabbed back. Damn, two for the
businessman.
DONT, I gasped quickly, jerking away when he began to reach down towards me,
touch me. I dont like to be touched, fucking damnit, why cant you get that
through your thick skull? My lips stretched into a snarl as I pushed myself up to my
feet, taking a moment to steady myself before I started to walk away from him. Why
do you keep touching me, anyway? Dont you feel dirty?
I gasped with a newly born taunt on my lips, spun around, and almost knocked into
him again. As elegantly as before, he stopped just short of contact. I know! You have
a dirt fetish! Right? Did I guess it? Huh, huh? I grinned, jabbing two fingers repeatedly
into his chest.
I keep touching you, he reached out to grab onto my arm, like the action would
somehow merit his words. Because you only listen when youre forced to listen.
Besides, as nicely shaped as your verbal defenses are, youre horribly lacking in the

44

physical defense department. Its easier to push you around this way. I think I saw
another smile.
RAPE! I screamed, ready to throw a fit the moment he said physical defense. He
didnt mind my tantrum; he continued to calmly drag me out of the small parking lot,
down towards the water. The slender rows of wooden bridges leading from one pier to
another soon came into my line of sight, with the occasional worker pausing to glance
up towards us. Oh yeah, and I hadnt stopped screaming. RAPE! RAPE! HELP,
SOMEONE HELP! RAAPEEE!
Oh fuck, I heard a familiar voice on my left. Calming my fit, I twisted my body so that
I could glance over my shoulder at the two figures nearby.
Mario! I gasped, making sure to sound thrilled to see him again. Finally, someone
that let me push his buttons!
Oh fuck, Vincenzo exhaled again, raising one fist up to his head, where he put a lot
of effort into uncurling his fingers before he ran them through his silky hair. This was too
easy.
Oh, I love your hair! What product do you use? Grease? I continued to talk over my
shoulder, away from Asher, who hadnt stopped walking. Nevertheless, the distance
between the two goons and us remained the same, because they were walking as
well.
Hes just a kid, Alrick sighed to his partner. Vincenzo was visibly shaking, though, his
short temper already ignited by my brief taunting. I think I saw him reach under his
jacket. Probably for his gun.
Asher continued until we got to one of the boats, an old, broken down thing that
smelled profusely like fish. Two old tires hung off the sides, in place of lifesavers, and a
banded red and white strip of ribbon that looked more like worn cloth ran through
them. The red cabin in the center bent awkwardly to one side, with the door hanging
open against two blue containers. The bottom half of the boat was rusted to hell, with
the disgusting brown color even managing to creep up to the faded letters of the
boats name. I could make out a L and an E, but everything else was too far gone.
Let me guess, I snorted when we stopped directly in front of the docked fishermans
boat, glaring down at how utterly unsafe the whole thing looked. Lonely? I took a
jab at its name.
Not today, Asher responded swiftly. He shifted his grip from my arm to my back, and
before my brain registered the transition, he shoved me into the boat. Youre going
to keep it company.

45

No. No, no, no. No fucking way in hell. No fucking way in hell! I decided to voice my
honest opinion.
Asher ignored me. Youre going to help clean Mr. Steinmans boat. It is a decent,
easy job for a beginner, and I trust it wont be too difficult for you. You will be paid for
your services, in due time, preferably when you are finished.
I dont want money! I protested. I dont want a job! I dont want to work!
Very well. I shall keep the wages and start a savings fund for you. Again, with his
selective listening. Damn.
No, I downright grunted. I noticed quickly enough that Vincenzo seemed to be
enjoying my frustration, but whatever sign of a smile he had on his sleazy face
immediately slid away when Asher next turned to him.
Vincenzo here will be watching over you. Youve already proven to me that I cant
trust you on your own, he explained.
Both Mario and I glanced at each other, simultaneously feeling the mutual hatred
double. He angrily clenched his teeth and I snorted in protest, huffing out the air
through my nostrils. Well I didnt care who he had watching over me. No one could
force me to do something I didnt want to do, regardless of the circumstances. The
angry Italian could have pound me to death for all I cared. I was too fucking stubborn;
I wasnt going to take a bath, I didnt want to change my clothes, and working was
out of the question. I wasnt a lazy kid, really, but this job wasnt found by me, and in
all perspectives I saw it as a handout. I hated charity. I hated pity.
Watch away. I kept direct eye contact with Vincenzo as I sat down on one of the
two blue containers. The boat rocked unsafely beneath my weight, forcing my
stomach to drop. Queasiness paled my face, but beneath the mask of grime and
muck, I doubted anyone could tell the difference.
But sir The Italian turned to Asher, his jaws still uncomfortably clenched.
Mr. Prickett didnt respond. He turned to walk past his goon, his marvelous tawny coat
fluttering behind him as he walked up the pier. Alrick joined him, and the two began
to walk off.
Tell him I ran away, I spoke as soon as Asher was out of earshot.
As if you could outrun me, Vincenzo fired back, understandably still pissed.

46

Thats why I said tell him. If I could, I would have already done it. Wow, Italians, I
sighed in disappointment, shaking my head.
I should beat the living shit out of you, boy, he growled. He was so easy, and I got a
high off his anger. I felt like I had the power, I was the one in control, because every
time I pulled a string, he reacted. He was my personal little puppet.
He reached under his jacket again, after a small glance down the length of the pier,
and his fingers distinctively wrapped around something. I leaned to the side to try and
make out the outline of the object, but his hand jerked away too quickly. The jacket
easily swayed back into place, across his belt buckle, sending an uneasy spike of
anxiety through my core. I quickly whipped my head around, expecting to see Asher,
but he wasnt there. When I looked back to Vincenzo, he had his phone out and
pressed against his ear.
Buon giorno, he spoke gruffly. I frowned as he turned away from me, a simple act
that doubled the tension between us. It didnt matter that he was probably going to
try to beat me with the butt of his gun or something else as equally blunt a few
seconds ago, because now he was clearly in business mode. Cosa? Quando? Ah...
Si. Si Err Si, capisco. Certo. Ciao.
Ciao! I knew Ciao!
Girl friend? I prodded, a taunting tone in my voice again.
When he turned back to look at me, it was clear that playtime was over. He shoved his
phone back into his pocket and turned to glance up the pier again. Stay, he
barked.
What the hell?
I watched him strut up the length of the wooden bridge, over to solid ground, and as
soon as he was lost behind a fit of boats I was up on my feet. I despised boats, as well
as water. Previously, when Asher was watching me, I didnt want to let it show, but I
had a horrible case of motion sickness. Hopping back to an unmoving surface was
once again an uplifting achievement, but I wouldnt be completely elated until I was
back on the concrete. So while the villains were out of sight, I scurried up the path to
the car. I dont know what I expected when I reached out to grab the handle, but
sure enough, it was locked. The bag of corn muffins on the driver seat taunted me.
I knew how to get back by walking, but to get to the right path; I would have to go to
the other side of the pier. That meant walking past ol Lonely, and possibly bumping
into Asher and company.

47

Fuck, I whispered to myself. I never expected someone else to answer.

I thought I told you to stay, Mario barked from behind me. I jumped a good two
feet, swirled around, and came face to face with exactly what I was trying to avoid.
All three of them.
Change of plans, Asher frowned. He looked cooler than usual, back to his arctic
personality. Were going to take a little field trip, and youre coming with us, since I
cant leave you alone.
How about I wait for you back at the diner? Yeah right, I planned on running as far
away as possible. When I got away, anyway.
No, I think it best you stay with me, I noticed this time that he didnt say us. Now
do I have to pull you again, or will you be a good boy and walk on your own? he
chided.
Fuck you, I lashed out, just to get the last word in. Alrick gave me a faint grin as I
turned to trail back out of the parking lot, deliberately heading in the wrong direction.
I thought I was heading in the wrong direction, anyway. Vincenzo soon proved me
wrong by striding past me, heading left along the docks, and taking an abrupt right
behind a fit of boats.
Asher and Alrick walked behind me, muttering about something I didnt think
important enough to eavesdrop on. I slowly moved along the edge of the pavement
until the right I was supposed to take came upthen, I saw it. Another boat.
Yeah, I think Ill wait at the diner, I said quickly, twisting back to head up toward the
pavement.
Asher reached out one hand to elegantly wrap around my arm, at his favorite spot
above my elbow, and led me in the right direction.
This boat was in much better shape than ol Lonely. It was a bright white, with a streak
of baby blue across the bottom instead of rust, but no lifesavers in sight. I shuddered
when, as soon as I steppedtechnically, I was pushedonto the boat, the deathtrap
smoothly rocked back and forth.
The back of the thing looked awkward, it was flat and open, with no ledges to keep
bystanders from going overboard, so I immediately shuffled into the little cabin. While
Vincenzo started up the engine, and the other two continued talking, I huddled in the
corner furthest away from any openings. I tried desperately to keep my seasickness to
myself, but the others didnt seem to even notice me so it wasnt a hard task. All I had

48

to do was not throw up, and considering my daily diet of coffee and the occasional
bit of solid food, that didnt sound too hard.
I sat silently in that boat for what felt like an hour, but it could have been anywhere
from ten to twenty minutes. For me to remain silent for long periods of time is hard, so I
half-expected some praise when we finally came to a stop. Maybe even a cookie.
Stay here, was all I got. Asher frowned at me sternly as he bent down to jerk out a
suitcase from under my seat, which I didnt even know was there. I glared at him,
keeping my mouth tightly shut like that would somehow drastically drop my chances
of vomiting.
The trio made their way out of the cabin and onto the back of the boat, to the thin
opening. I didnt see where they went from my corner, but from the rocking of the
boat, I got the hint that they got off. My stomach churned violently beneath my
hands, threatening to give out on me.
A sharp whistle came from outside. Damn, look at dat boat, an unfamiliar voice
spoke.
Looks brand new. Think theyll let me keep it, since I set this up?
My stomach pitched back and forth.
Naw. Deyll prolly take it apart and sell da pieces. But ah bet ya could vouch for da
pieces.
Man, itd be a shame to take a boat like that apart.
I anxiously wet my lips as I shifted in my seat, leaning the tiniest bit to the right to peer
out the side of the cabin. I chickened out when I heard footsteps draw closer, and
jerked myself back into the shadows. I wasnt sure what the two men were talking
about, but I was progressively growing nervous.
I bet it hassa bran new engeen! Woowee, Id lurve to take dis baby for aride!
Want to?
No, no. Say no. Just say no. Drugs are bad. Say no to drugs. Say no, say no.
Hell ya!
Fuck.

49

We should wait until the deals over, though. They can see us from here, and theyll
probably know somethings up. Plus, if they need back up, and were not here, itll
look bad.
Ders only tree of dem, why would dey need backup? Ugh, but yer right. Bossll get
mad.
Yeah, well ask him after, the second one suggested as the footsteps moved further
away.
My heart was going a hundred miles per minute, trying to desperately escape my
body. I reached up one hand to flatten its palm against my chest, like that would
somehow help calm the frantic organ. Predictably, it didnt. From what I gathered, my
three villains were in trouble, and the boat was next on the hit list. That only meant one
thing; I was going to go with it.
Sliding off the bench, I slowly edged out to the cabins opening on my hands and
knees, careful to watch for any shadows before I popped my head out. I didnt
immediately see anyone, but I was cautious as I headed to the side. The boat itself
was tied to a dock along a low pier, low enough not to change much elevation when
stepping in and out of the boat. I peeked over the edge, down towards a patch of
sand in the middle of a mess of trees.
There were four tents from what I could see, all of them a thick, and dark green that
mirrored the swamp-like area around it. A handful of bodies crowded around a table
in front of one of the tents, three of which I recognized. Asher looked his cool,
collected self, while a shorter, pudgier man spoke heatedly in front of him, gesturing
wildly with both hands. It only occurred to me after a moment of staring that a couple
of the men standing off to the sides had automatic weapons slung over their torsos.
Why on earth Asher would have walked into what I clearly saw as an ambush, I didnt
know, but again I had to think back to the night he was mugged. I was quickly
drawing up different conclusions.
I shouldnt have been here, and I knew it. I should have been back on the cold, but
distinguishingly safer streets of my own neighborhood. Guns and mobsters and
whatever they were talking about, that just didnt go along with my life. I didnt belong
here.
On the left, I noticed two men begin to argue. They were wildly animated, but I
couldnt hear what they were saying. It only took one of them pointing towards Asher
for me to freak out, though. They had guns. Asher and Alrick didnt, as far as I knew,
and I had never actually seen Vincenzos weapon. It was clear what I had to do.

50

Run. Run far, far away. I wasnt going to play hero and run out there to warn them.
Yeah, I was chicken. I was human. I couldnt defend myself and this wasnt my
problem.
Ducking back, close to the floor of the boat, I crawled to the shelter of the cabin once
again. When I thought no one could see me, I pushed myself up to my feet and slowly
swayed towards the assortment of buttons and the small wheel that was supposed to
steer the deathtrap. Still queasy, I took a moment to read what I could, but everything
was in acronyms or abbreviations. I didnt know what anything meant. I trailed my
fingers over the buttons, mentally demanding them to tell me what they didit only
took me a few seconds to realize it didnt matter, even if I did somehow develop some
sort of magical power to communicate with buttons. I didnt have the keys.
I stupidly glanced up when I heard footsteps again. Any normal person would have
ducked down, but no, I had to look up towards the front window. Straight at a man
with a gun pointed at me.
Any sense of nausea or motion sickness shriveled up and died inside of me, along with
my internal organs. Fear shot up through my body, my limbs, overflowing me with a
sense of panic that had me running out of the cabin door before the guard could
make sense of what he had seen; human, or animal?
I darted mindlessly out of the boat, up onto the pier, toward the tent closest to me,
and toward the one man I knew better than the rest. I desperately hoped that no one
would shoot me down until I reached him. I dont know why, but at that moment I
believed the only way for me to be safe again was to run to him.
Vincenzo turned to look at me in utter annoyance. Alrick looked confused, and I saw
Ashers mouth open into the outline of a question. I wouldnt have enough time to
reach them, I realized. We were all going to die, probably ahead of schedule, and I
didnt even know why.
Asher flicked his hand down across his suitcase as he moved away from his two goons
and the pudgy stranger that still frantically tried to get his attention. He headed down
the pier toward me, no doubt prompted by the horrified expression on my face.
Beyond him, I noticed his two guards shift to the side, but I didnt focus on them. I
could see the others growing alarmed with my strange appearance. The armed
guards grew tense, and I didnt blame them. One glided his hand down across the
barrel of his weapon, towards the trigger. I freaked out.
ITS A TRAP! I screamed, like the idiot I was. I didnt even know what this meeting
was about, but I was convinced that it was all a trap. A setup. We were going to die.
ITS A TRAP! THEYRE GOING TO KILL YOU!

51

Everything suddenly moved faster than my brain could follow. I only remember seeing
Ashers hand move down to his belt before a screeching, booming sound smacked
against my eardrums. Something hard but warm smashed into my torso. My feet left
the ground, rendering me weightless. The sound of wood cracking filled my ears,
along with screaming, yelling, shots fired in a mess of colorful chaos that my mind
refused to wrap around. I slammed against something solid and rolled once, twice,
straight over an edge.
Coldness enveloped me. The icy touch of water wrapped around my throat, digging
into my nostrils and windpipe as I sank into oblivion. I didnt dare open my eyes, but
even with no up or down aligning me, I knew where I was going. Down. I was sinking.
A burst of air shot past my lips, up through my lungs, as the urge to gasp hit me. My
eyes flew open without my permission and panic once again wrapped its dark, sticky
fingers around my heart. I thrashed violently as I tried to get to the surface, but my
tattered coat was wrapped tightly around my legs, tangled between the knees that
my brain begged me to kick. I scratched at the lack of solidity around me, desperately
trying to find a way up, up, up. I needed to get up. I searched my brain for an answer
to why I couldnt move correctly, but the low temperature refused to allow an actual
thought process. At that moment, I knew I needed someone to help me; Vincenzo,
Alrick, even one of the armed guards, anyone.
Asher, yes, Asher would come. He had to. He owed me his life.
He didnt come. I didnt see him come. But a hand grabbed onto the back of my thin
coat and pulled me up, up, up. My head instantly started spinning the moment I broke
the surface. I didnt try to see what was happening, I kept my eyes shut while my body
slowly remembered how to breathe.
With a splash, I was back on a solid exterior. The brief collision of my back against the
hard surface made me cough out what liquid I had swallowed, and after a brief
choking period, I relented to just laying there. The water in my clothes and the cold in
my bones kept me feeling heavy enough for me not to move, but I groaned loudly as
something dripped onto my face.
Drip. Drip.
I groaned again. Struggling with my heavy eyelids, I slowly peeled them back,
searching for the sun I knew was still in the sky. Instead, my eyes fell onto a shadowy
face, blurred by the drops of water that still hung heavily off my eyelashes. The head
dropped closer to me, and with another groan I began to tilt my face away.
His lips locked onto mine, sending not only an unnecessary puff of air into my mouth,
but also shots of dull electricity that branched out throughout my body. I went rigid as I

52

felt his mouth move, the way I supposed mouths are to move during mouth-to-mouth
resuscitation, but I highly doubted that tongue was supposed to be involved. Given,
my knowledge on CPR was limited, but really? Tongue?
My brain and body kicked into gear simultaneously; I sat up as my hands flew out,
pushing at the chest of the person I assumed pulled me from the depths of the sea. It
took me a moment to let my eyes adjust to the light, but I had already recognized him
from the light bourbon smell on his breath.
What the fuck do you think youre doing? I wheezed, reaching up to wipe at my
mouth with one dripping hand.
CPR, he replied easily.
That was not CPR. Definitely not CPR. He hadnt even applied any pressure to my
chest. But before I snapped at him, I stopped to think about the situation. I could take
advantage of this! Technically, he had saved my life, and that meant we were even!
Fine, I said quickly. Both of my hands moved down to what I soon found to be the
lower half of the boat, the part that flattened out toward the water. I scooted back a
bit to put more distance between my body and his.
The light fell on him at an angle, outlining his dripping form with an eerie light that
bounced off the water lacing his face. I had never noticed it before, but the color of
his hair was as strange and murky as his eyes. It was a washed out brown, almost
sandy. The messy, tangled strands fell to the side in one graceful swoop, and the way
he sat with one leg curled under him, the other bent to his side, it looked like he was
posing for the cover of a magazine. His tawny coat was nowhere in sight, and his suit
jacket was missing. All he wore now was a thin, white dress shirt that clung tightly to his
chest with the added liquid.
Fine... I said again, trying to work the moisture back into my throat. Then were
even.
What do you mean?
He gave a tilt of his head, an almost innocent movement with the stark expression on
his face, and my heart thumped dangerously in my chest.
I mean I saved your life, according to you, and now you saved mine. The debt is
repaid, right? So, were even. No more guidance shit, and I stopped, suddenly
recalling everything that had happened. I was originally going to say and no more
working, which meant his stupid job of cleaning the fishing boat. But that single and
had snapped me out of my admiration of the form in front of me, to the shock and

53

fear any normal person would have felt after after what? I still wasnt sure what had
happened back there.
No, Asher smoothly disagreed in that normal, cool tone of his.
No? What do you mean no? Were even now. We are, we are! I gaped in disbelief.
No. Now I own you, was all he said.

54

I felt like a wet dog.

He sat quietly just a few feet away from me, still in his Top Model pose, as water
effortlessly dripped from his body. Those carefully guarded, foggy eyes studied me
while I tried to pull myself back together.
I literally had to reach up to close my jaw. I tried to convince myself that he said owe,
not own, which immediately proved to be difficult. An absolute What?! was in the air,
but he wasnt going to answer it until I asked, so I slowly pushed it through my lips.
What?
Were not even. I saved your life four times, so now you owe me, he explained. His
sense of logic completely flew over my head, but I tried to follow along. Raising one
hand, I counted. He saved me from drowning one.
Asher took one glance at my extended index finger and hurled a sigh. Slowly, he
pivoted his body towards me, bringing both legs down to cross in front of him. I saved
you from getting shot, from getting blown up, from getting eaten by sharks and from
drowning. Suddenly, there were four fingers extended on his hand, from index to
pinkie.
What? Well if you want to play that way, then I saved you from getting shot by
warning you it was a trap! Plus, I doubt there are any sharks out here anyway, I said. It
took me a minute, but it eventually clicked. What do you mean, you saved me from
getting blown up?
He waited patiently for me to figure it out on my own, but when I continued to look
utterly lost, he raised one hand to gesture behind me. I cautiously turned in my seat,
realizing for the first time that we were floating out in the middle of nowhere. Beyond
the immediate area we were drifting in, smoke floated up past the horizon line,
thickening the sky in all its dark grey glory.
Slowly but surely, my brain started connecting the dots. The suitcase?

55

He nodded.
You triggered it! I accused, absolutely flabbergasted. I was sure of it, how he had
extended one hand down to his belt before everything had gone to hell. He must
have been the one that pushed me out of the way, though, when the blast came.
No! That doesnt fucking count! If you triggered a bomb that almost killed me, and
saved me from it, that doesnt fuckingwait what about your two goons? Are
they?
Asher furrowed his eyebrows together at the slight hint of concern that must have
been in my eyes. I immediately dropped my head, not wanting him to see it. It wasnt
that I was worried, really, it just it wasnt fair. Vincenzo and Alrick werent supposed
to get blown up by their own boss. They were so close to the table with the suitcase
when I last saw them but wait. I did remember seeing them move. Maybe Asher
warned them before he triggered it! Maybe unicorns really did exist and my fairy
godmother had just missed her train! Yeah, maybe!
Well, regardless, were even. If youre counting how you saved me from getting
blown up, Im counting how I warned you in the first place. Therefore, me calling the
ambulance for you cancels out how you saved me from getting shot. Fuck, I was
beginning to confuse myself. I needed to wrap this up. Were even, thats that.
I saved you from drowning, he pointed out, reminding me of the original reason I
was going to claim we were even. Too many things were happening at once, and I
was losing my train of thought.
Y you didnt save me from drowning, I know how to swim! I suddenly lashed out.
Asher then reached out in one effortless stroke, without the slightest bit of hesitation,
and called my bluff. His hand shoved me right over the edge of the boat, straight into
the freezing cold water. Needless to say, I sank like a stone.
You were saying? he asked diligently when he pulled me back out about a minute
later with one hand holding onto my clothing. I was dripping again, with whatever
heat I had managed to pool up in my body completely gone. As I pulled myself up to
the surface with his hand still holding onto my coat, I recalled his cold lips against
mine, and I jerked away.
I fucking hate you, I panted.
Oh, and there are abundant sharks around these parts of the water. Thats two to
zero, according to your math. So, I own you, he concluded. Elegantly pushing himself
up to his feet, he moved to walk past me, into the cabin. I remained dripping and
shocked at the other end of the boat.
56

Own? That sounded so permanent.

Slavery was outlawed in 1863! My body was shaking again, from anger or
approaching pneumonia, I didnt know.
1865, he corrected me easily, his voice followed by the light purr of the boats
engine coming to life. Lincolns Emancipation Proclamation was issued in 1863, but
the thirteenth amendment wasnt ratified until 1865.
Fuck, whatever! I dont care! The point is that its illegal. You cant fucking make me
your slave or whatever kinky shit youre into! I could hear my voice cracking again,
already scratched because of the cold water as well as the dryness in my throat. The
overwhelming sense of dread didnt help things, either.
I still had my back to him when the boat began to move, I just couldnt take my eyes
off the continuous cloud of smoke in the nearby distance. The boat kicking into gear
brought me back to where I was, though, and I shifted uncomfortably to face him. He
hadnt answered me, which wasnt a good sign.
I want to go home, I mumbled to his perfect shoes, dripping perfectly clear water to
the bottom of the boat. Predictably, the water that oozed off my body was by no
means clear. I had a messy, grey puddle forming beneath me. It suddenly occurred
to me that the dirt mask I had on my face might have washed off by the double
dunking.
You dont have a home, Asher replied stoically, snapping me out of my thoughts. His
cold, indifferent tone made me want to burst into tears. It was so cruel and unfair of
him to say it, and like that.
I want to go back to Annas, I corrected myself stubbornly, keeping my stiff upper lip.
I wasnt going to let him get to me, especially since he didnt let me get to him.
Thats not your home.
I felt my stomach drop. Of course it wasnt, I knew that. Anna and Zack werent my
parents, they didnt owe me anything, but the kindness they constantly showered onto
an ungrateful brat like me made it easy to pretend sometimes. I wasnt fooling
anyone, but Ashers brutal way of easily shredding up the world I had built for myself
was downright spiteful.
I hate you! I wish you were dead! I sounded like a five year old and I didnt care.
Bursting into tears suddenly didnt sound like a bad idea. The anger boiling up in my
chest spurred me to raise my eyes higher, up his legs, toward the back of his head. My
57

gaze came to a stuttering stop on his back, where a sharp gash tore his skin from
shoulder to spine. Something looked embedded in his flesh.
My next set of words escaped without my control, never allowing my internal buffer to
even graze them. Youre hurt. I heard the gasp that followed, but I didnt remember
actually gasping.
I was contradicting myself and he knew it. Without a word, Asher twisted his body to
glance over his shoulder, down toward me. His lips parted, then closed, giving me a
feeling that he wasnt going to really say what came next. So are you.
My thoughts jumbled again. I hated him, and I wanted to tell him that, over and over
again. I wanted to question the explosion, the meeting, the location of his two
guards, the slavery charge I planned on filing against him, the abuse, the cut on his
back that was probably my fault, the kissbut my mind kept snapping back to what
he said. Me? Hurt? I was definitely freezing, but I didnt feel hurt.
I stretched my arms out in front of me, studying the layers of the same clothes I had
worn for months in hopes of finding any tears. There were many, but not any new
ones. The funnel sweater packed on top of the thin cotton one, beneath the
shredded sleeves of my coat, still only had two cuts along the outside of my bicep. It
was hard to notice at first, with the water weighing everything down and melting the
fabrics together, but the cloth protecting my shoulders and a small area along my
chest were lightly singed. Still, everything was intact. No wounds.
No Im not, I decided, bringing my eyes back up to glare at him. He was still looking
at me, letting the boat steer itself. After a brief moment, he turned to stride back to
where I sat. I stared like an idiot while he bent his knees, outstretched a hand toward
me, and flicked a finger against my forehead.
The pain seared like hot iron through my skull. I threw up both hands against my head,
grabbing onto my temples as if that would somehow contain the pain. It didnt. I
howled as my head began to throb, where my trembling hands found a cut along my
forehead. I found another along my brow, and as I searched further, I discovered that
one of my ears was bleeding. Wasnt it supposed to ring? But there was nothing wrong
with my ears, I could hear just fine. Maybe something else was bleeding.
Fuck! What the fuck! I hissed. I knew the sight of my own blood would make me
woozy, so I turned to dip my hands into the water and wash off what I could see.
There, I noticed that the boat hadnt escaped the blast either; the perfect white was
scorched slightly along the side. This is so fucking crazy! I want to go home!
You dont have a

58

I KNOW THAT! TAKE ME BACK TO SOLID GROUND!

The nerve of this guy! I was frantically panicking and he looked like we were just taking
a joyride. He moved back to the steering wheel as I remained by the edge of the
water, not yet remembering my motion sickness with everything else going through my
mind. Surely enough, even that damned feeling caught up with me. At that point, I
didnt have any more will to keep it down. I bent over the side of the boat and
heaved what little I had in my stomach.

When we docked, I didnt move from my spot. I was tired, cold, and awfully thirsty.
Even with his injured shoulder, Asher crouched down to scoop me up off the floor. It
wasnt a very elegant liftoff, he just threw me over a shoulder like a sack of potatoes. A
streak of guilt went through me when I saw the blood melting into the fabric of his shirt,
but it was all very fleeting. I still hated him therefore he deserved pain.
He carried me up to the parking lot, leaving a trail of water behind us. I watched the
wet footprints he left behind with his perfect shoes until the hot pavement swallowed
them. It was like we were never there.
His car chirped, I assumed because he unlocked it, and I heard the door crack open
before I was thrown in the back seat. I grunted at the impact with the seat, but I didnt
try to sit back up. I felt so fucking tired.
Have a muffin, he suggested, tossing the brown bag back into my lap. I damned his
calm tone as I jerked the bag close to my stomach, internally demanding it to warm
me up. I pulled the thing open to peer inside; Anna had put in a Cinnamon muffin for
me, my favorite. I wanted to have every muffin in that bag, just so he wouldnt get
any, but my stomach still felt irritable.
Are you thirsty? Asher continued.
My head was pounding. I flinched up when his door smacked shut behind him as he
slid into the driver seat. I tried to tell him he was an asshole, but my throat felt
unreasonably dry. I always thought that was ironic, how going for a swim made you
thirsty. All that water around you, yet your body still thought it was a good idea to
have more inside.
Asher turned on some classical music, I think it was Chopin, before he started the car.
It rolled smoothly backward, turned, then headed forward. The speed of his driving
didnt change; as quickly as we had gotten to the docks that morning, we left it
behind now. I drifted in and out of consciousness repeatedly, still shaking, still thirsty,
and still endlessly stubborn. He never turned on the heater. At one point, he used a
59

phone in the car I hadnt noticed before to make a call, but I wasnt able to make out
anything he said. Frankly, he might have made several calls, though I only noticed
one.
I didnt wake up when the car stopped completely; it was the friction of his warm
hands against my shaking torso that sent my eyes flying open. He noticed the alarmed
look on my face and immediately reached out to flatten me back down against the
back seat before I could even begin thrashing.
Youre okay, was all he had to say for my mind to settle.
Am I home? I asked absentmindedly. He gave me a brief grin and nodded. I
shouldnt have trusted him, but I did. I closed my eyes, letting him pull me back out of
the car to send me over one shoulder. The impact made me grunt, encouraging me
to open my eyes.
I wasnt home.
There were no streets, no people, no Anna in sight. The paved road beneath his feet
was a milky color, bending in and out as it led down to what I could see was a black
iron gate. We were heading away from the gate.
PUT ME DOWN! I demanded rudely, so I didnt expect him to actually do it.
Suddenly I was back on my own feet, both of them unsteady with my muscles and
bones still understandably frozen. He wrapped a guiding hand around my arm to pull
me up a few stairs, over the threshold of an open ivory door, and into another
ballroom looking area. A woman wearing a plain set of black pants and shirt paused
along a curling staircase, twisting her body around to glance in our direction.
Mr. Pickett! she gasped, sounding obviously worried. Her gaze managed to migrate
over to me, but she didnt linger. Judging by her expression, I must have looked
horrible. Are you alright? I didnt know whom she was asking, I assumed it was him so
I didnt respond.
Were fine, Asher answered for me. He didnt pay any attention to me trying to
wrestle my arm out of his hold as he took a few steps forward, toward the stairs. Is the
bath ready? he asked nonchalantly.
I DONT WANT A BATH! I screeched immediately. The girl jumped, no doubt startled
by my crude behavior.
Uh, y-yes Mr. Pickett. Just like you asked, she gestured upstairs. I followed her hand,
up a grand set of stairs with a twisting handrail.
60

Thank you, Miss Jenny, he nodded toward her. I trembled when he jerked me away,
resetting most of my bones with one violent action. From his overall posture and
attitude, I could guess he wasnt going to back down this time, but that didnt mean I
was going to just sit there and take it.
Im not taking a bath, I hissed through clenched teeth. He didnt chuckle, glance
back, or chide me. That just plain made me nervous. Im not. I dont care what you
do, Im not taking a bath. My dirt was mine, I wasnt going to let him take it away
from me.
I smacked one hand down against the railing, curling my grip into the wood to anchor
myself in place. His strength quickly proved too much for me. One deliberate jerk from
him and I flew up two stairs, almost crashing into the third. He stopped me from
making acquaintances with his clean marble floor by jerking away on my arm to
instantly root me back up, but he didnt give me time to reclaim my footing. Before I
could regain my balance completely, Asher had led me up the rest of the steps, to the
second floor.
I dont want to be here! I want to go back to Annas Diner! Damn you, why did you
bring me here! I screamed, jerking repeatedly on my arm. I kept trying to reach out
with my other arm, to grab at anything I could; this included vases, paintings, the wall,
doorframes, door hinges, doorknobs, and even the edge of a dresser. Each time, he
pulled on my arm until my frozen, cold fingers gave away on their dedicated grip. The
next thing I knew, I was in the middle of a stylishly large bathroom.
The water is warm, dont waste i
No! That was quickly becoming one of my favorite words, especially since he had
told me that in his line of work, people didnt say no to him. Haha, take that buddy!
If you are unable to do it, Ill strip you myself. It was another one of his facts. His voice
was smooth and carefully guarded, still not willing to play any games.
I finally managed to jerk away from him, probably because he let me, but I had
nowhere to go. He stood firmly in front of the doorway, leaning back against the door
he had already closed behind him. I thought of asking if his shoulder hurt, with him
leaning like that, but he didnt deserve my curiosityyes, curiosity, because it sure as
hell wasnt concern.
No, I grunted stubbornly.
He faked a step toward me and I flinched back. Finally, his mask broke, giving me
another peek at how his face looked when his smiled. Not bad, actually.
61

Fuck, what was I thinking? This man was my enemy, my tormentor! And here I was,
internally complementing his smile! Fuck. Fuck! That explosion must have given me a
concussion, or permanently impaired my mind. Seriously.
Arent you cold? Asher asked quietly.
I was freezing and he knew it. It abruptly occurred to me why he hadnt turned the
heater on in the car, or offered me a blanket of any kind. He wanted me to be cold,
hungry and thirsty, so my defenses were weakened. It was like a step-by-step guide to
domesticating the wild animal. It was working. My body felt like it was about to fold in
on itself and crash to the floor.
Alright, he sighed when I didnt respond. His hands moved up, making me flinch
again, to the collar of his shirt. In a deliberately slow manner, he popped open his
buttons, baring the smooth surface of his chest.
What are you I trailed off, my mouth suddenly as dry as my throat.
Im joining you, since you dont know how to take a bath alone. Thats it, right? You
just dont know how, he grinned faintly in my direction. I gawked at him as he peeled
his shirt off his shoulders, working one arm out of its sleeve, then the other. I couldnt
help but remember the graze of his lips against mine. Heat rushed into my cheeks with
the embarrassing memory, and to my utter surprise, he paused. His murky eyes moved
up to meet mine, once again in that studying manner.
Fuck.
Fine, alright. Just keep your clothes on, I mumbled, completely embarrassed. While I
pulled my first layer of wet clothing off, he resumed to take off his shirt. With the ruined
fabric in hand, Asher moved over to the sink to turn the water on. I got a better view of
his back when he turned, the proximity allowing me to see that the large gash wasnt
the only injury on his back. He had little shards of a solid material implanted in his skin,
which glistened carelessly beneath the light. His hands didnt shake like mine did, they
calmly moved under the liquid pounding against the shirt from the faucet, squeezing
the blood out of the white.
My eyes moved back to where he had previously stood, the door. Red stained the
spot he had leaned against, a sharp contrast along the hollow white of the doors
surface.
Dont even think about it, Asher spoke, spiking my attention back to him. His eyes
locked onto mine through the mirror, prompting me to continue undressing. He
probably thought I was going to make a run for it. I was.
62

I wasnt, I grumbled. My coat made a loud smack against the tiled floor when I
released it, spraying water in every which way. I hadnt taken the coat off in months,
so I instantly felt naked without it. I didnt want to take off any more layers, I didnt care
how cold it was.
Next one, Asher urged me on while he pulled out a drawer, keeping his eyes on me
through the reflection of the mirror in front of him. I shuddered when he slammed the
drawer back shut to open another.
I dont want to. My stubborn streak was back out. He heaved a sigh and righted
himself, his action squeezing out a new streak of blood from his wound. It trailed down
his back as he twisted in my direction. This time, his hands went down to his belt.
Okay, fine, I said quickly to stop him. It worked.
I already knew I was going to lose this fight. The battle was no longer on my turf, it was
in his territory, his home. He gestured with one hand for me to continue, but my hands
refused to move.
Ill take a bath if you leave, I tried to strike a bargain. He arched both eyebrows in
silence, not even bothering to vocalize how much he didnt trust me. Really, I will, I
insisted. Asher wasnt buying any of it; he stared straight at me as his hands undid his
buckle.
FUCK! Fine! But can you turn around or something? Jesus fucking fuck, I huffed in
defeat. He listened, just not the way I wanted him toyes, he turned, but toward the
mirror, where he could still watch me. Thats not... wha Grr, I growled. At that
moment, so did my stomach.
Asher chuckled beneath his breath as he pulled out another drawer, momentarily
peeking into it. I took that moment to pull two of my sweaters off, leaving two layers
behind. I glanced back at him, making sure he wasnt watching before I pulled my
shirt and undershirt off my skin. When I checked back, he had a white box out in front
of him, rifling through it. Cautiously, I popped open the front of my pants and unzipped
the front. At the sound of my pants hitting the smooth floor, Asher looked up, easily
letting his eyes graze my bare flesh.
Dont look! I barked, again feeling my face burn red. His lips moved in a mumble as
he glanced back down at his box, where he continued to let his hand rummage.
I took the opportunity to slip off my mismatched converse. Without taking off my
boxers, or my socks, I hobbled over to the filled bath and slid right in. The warm water
instantly greeted me, calming my jumping nerves. I breathed a mindless sigh of relief
as I relaxed in the tub and closed my eyes.
63

Is it warm enough? Ashers voice came from a much closer distance than I
expected. I jolted upward, sending ripples out through the water as I twisted my head
around to see him looming over me. He didnt wait for my response; crouching down,
he dipped one hand into the water to test the temperature, then pulled the same
hand out to twist the red knob.
I wiggled my toes against the hot water that began to pour into the depths of the
bathtub while I struggled to keep my eyes away from him. He was still bent over me,
testing the water with one hand. His chest was distinguishable even from the corner of
my eye, even as I focused my attention onto the other end of the tub. I could see the
droplets of water sticking to his chest, trickling down the long stretch of his abdomen,
and I had the raw urge to reach out to touch them.
Are you alright?
I jerked back at the sound of his voice, instinctively moving to the opposite side of the
bathtub. The water splashed in protest in the midst of my knees twitching up to my
chest, with the logical sense of vulnerability that only being nude in front of a stranger
could bring about. Thats what I told myself, anyway.
No, Im not alright. Im tired, and hungry, and Dont you have any bubble bath stuff
or anything? I asked hopefully.
Asher scoffed at my very human streak of embarrassment, or perhaps he thought I
was being a spoiled brat. Either way, he didnt deny me my simple request. He
opened a cabinet nearby for a bottle of blue liquid, carrying it over along with a small
black stool that was previously sitting in the corner of the room. Settling down beside
me, he poured some of the liquid in under the rush of water to quickly get the bubbles
going. When the surface of the water was no longer transparent, I breathed another
sigh of relief.
He screwed back the top of the bottle as he leaned back in the short stool, still
refusing to leave my side. With one foot, he nudged over the white box from before,
which I could now make out as a first aid kit. He picked out a silver pair of tweezers
and a roll of sterile gauze. He rolled out a small portion that he hung between his legs
before he reached around his shoulder, to his back, strategically using the mirror
behind him to find his gash. I winced for him as he grabbed at the solid object in his
flesh and swiftly pulled it out.
He brought the sharp-looking thing down, dropping it into the gauze in his lap. The
murky eyes settled on me when he noticed I was watching, and the corners of his lips
creased downward into a frown.

64

The washcloth is over there, he gestured with his other hand. I didnt follow the
movement, I continued looking at the bloody object in his lap. What was it? What had
stabbed him like that? Hey, he snapped his fingers in front of my eyes, making me
jolt again. Why are you so jumpy? And quiet?
Shut up, I huffed, turning my head to glare back down the length of the tub.
Did you want more bubbles? he asked. I expected there to be a mocking tone in his
voice, but there wasnt. He was actually curious.
No, I want you to leave. It was an honest answer. He made me nervous, and he was
way too close.
Tough, he sighed. The hand he had gestured with before stretched out to grab the
washcloth hanging over a ledge built into the wall beside me, wrenching it down
where he dropped it in the water in front of me.
I took the hint, but I didnt want to do what was being silently commanded of me. My
right hand stretched out to grab onto the cloth, and I pulled it down into the depths of
the tub. I planned on keeping it hostage, not on using it.
Asher wasnt going to let that happen. After I didnt immediately begin to wash
myself, he leaned forward to reach in the water. I thought he was searching for the
washcloth, so I jerked it away, but he reached lower. His cold fingers wrapped around
the crotch of my boxers, and in one clean stroke, he brought the fabric all the way to
my knees. I discarded the washcloth to reach up to defend my privates, but by then
he had already worked my underwear down to my ankles.
HEY! I shouted in protest. His other hand smashed down into my chest, flattening my
body against the wall behind me while I flailed my arms and legs. Indirectly, I helped
him take my boxers and one of my socks off by kicking like a fish out of water.
Youre obviously going to make this hard. I dont know why I expected any different,
he snapped angrily. It looked like Hyde was back out, with Dr. Jekyll nowhere in sight.
You cant just do what ever you want! I shot right back.
Neither can you, he crushed through visibly clenched teeth. I put a pause to my
thrashing almost instantaneously, grounded by the rather blunt, honest statement. No
one had ever said that to me before.
When I didnt resume my physical protest, he cautiously removed his hand from my
chest. His other hand disposed of my soaking boxers, letting it drop to the floor, before
he reached out to snatch the floating washcloth. Are you going to be good?
65

I stubbornly pressed my lips together in a thin line, furrowed my eyebrows, and shook
my head.
Didnt think so, he gave a lazy grin. My heart fluttered.
Asher had already succeeded in physically and emotionally draining me, and I had
no reason to like him, but when I actually saw his face crack into a pure smile my heart
melted. It wasnt that I found him attractive, not that he was bad looking, I just didnt
look at him that way. But that smile it was so boyish, so innocent. It didnt fit his harsh
exterior, which made me believe that he was only letting me see it. It was a privilege.
I settled into a comfortable silence as he picked up the soap to lather up the
washcloth. Immediately, I wrinkled my nose into my face, showing my dislike for the
lavender scent that came from the offending oval object. His grin remained, a gentle
curve of the lips that somehow accented his high cheekbones.
At the first brush of the cloths rough surface against my shoulder, I jumped upward. He
paused in an almost patient manner, waiting for me to settle back into the water
before he continued. Now sitting in silence might have been okay with him, but it
made me uncomfortable. Not only was the overall him-washing-me thing downright
awkward, the fact that I was actually taking a bath pissed me off.
This doesnt mean you win, I pouted childishly.
Alright, he chuckled softly as he scrubbed the dirt off my shoulders, my upper chest,
along where the water and bubbles didnt hide my skin.
And you dont own me, I continued.
No?
No! You cant just... own people! Im not fucking furniture.
I never said you were, his voice moved closer to me as he bent down, reaching into
the water to fetch out one of my arms. I deliberately moved it twice, just to make it
harder for him.
You didnt need to. Its like Im a stray you picked up off the street, and now youre
being all persistent by trying to clean me up to make me your pet.
Well arent you? A stray, that is.

66

No! I exhaled roughly. I was steadily getting tired of saying that word so many times.
Im a human being, and what I do is my decision. Its called free will, buddy, look it
up, I snarled as I whipped my hand away from him when he spent too long trying to
get the dirt off my fingertips. He shrugged and reached out to fetch my other arm.
I see it more like guidance. Im merely claiming a life unspoken for.
My mouth dropped at his continuously twisted logic. Where was this guy from? It was
like he was in a world of his ownor was that me? I was getting confused again. My
life is not unspoken for. Its my life. That means its spoken for, I consciously repeated
his chosen set of words.
And what are you doing with it? he asked accusingly. The sharp glare that followed,
along with the way his hand tightened on my wrist, sent a shudder through my body. I
gasped at the pain that ensued, twisting my arm in a pathetic attempt to free myself
just before he jerked me up closer to him. Nothing, he answered his own question
easily.
Thats none ow none of your business! I winced at the continuous pressure on my
wrist. I wouldnt have been surprised at that point if he broke my arm.
It is now. Im making it my business, he gave a wave of the washcloth, like that
proved everything. The question now is whether you make it hard or easy for me.
Judging by your behavior so far, Im going to guess that youre going to fight me tooth
and nail to the end, a pause, Correct?
I only grunted at the pain that shot down at my awkwardly bent arm. It wasnt until he
paused for my response that he realized that he was causing me pain and discomfort,
which is when he let go. Grumbling something incomprehensible beneath his breath,
Asher then went back to scrubbing me clean. He even removed my other sock.
You cant do that I whispered stubbornly. He ignored me, pulling out my legs one
by one to scrub those as well. I felt downright violated, and short of arguing myself
blue, there was nothing I could do about it.
Clean the rest, he dropped the washcloth back into the steadily darkening water
when he was done with my limbs. By rest, I knew he meant my crotch, stomach, and
ass. I didnt want him reaching anywhere near there, so I didnt argue. As he pulled
himself up off the stool, I hurriedly grabbed the washcloth to whip it back and forth
over my flesh.
He returned a few seconds later with a bottle of shampoo and scissors in his hand. I
knew where this was going.
67

No, no, no! Absolutely NOT! You are NOT cutting my hair! I screamed, moving so
vigorously in the bath that I managed to splash him. Twice.
Right, he grumbled impatiently. With one hand, he pulled me back toward him,
simultaneously stopping me from getting up to my feet. The same hand glided out to
the thin dirty ponytail that had previously been hidden beneath my clothes, and in
one swift movement he stretched it up above my skull as he dug the sharp blade into
my poor defenseless hair.
A shower of crudely chopped hair fell down around me, falling lifelessly to the surface
of the muddy water where their curled corpses haunted me. I felt a strange heat sting
my eyes.
The angle he cut my hair at left what remained in layers that curtained down over my
ears, barely brushing against my shoulders. The length was still there, it wasnt a big
transition, but he had taken yet another thing from me. My hair, my dirt, my freedom. I
shook in anger and frustration as I tried to fight back the tears threatening to pool in
my eyes.
Ashers warm hands moved back to my head, this time with shampoo smeared onto
his palms, where he cautiously began to massage my scalp. He worked his fingers into
the dirty tresses, trying to work the filth out of them. I remained stunned, unmoving in
my little corner of the bathtub. The showerhead was turned on to rinse my head off,
then turned back off as he shampooed my head a second time. A third. A fourth.
Finally, after the fifth attempt at cleaning my hair, he spoke.
Its black, he sounded surprised.
I whipped my head up, my eyes narrowed into a hateful glare at the man I was
steadily beginning to blame for all my problems in life.
Ah, he exhaled toward my expression. Your hair, its black. I thought it was just dirt
I didnt expect it to be black, he trailed off into a mumble.
And why is that? My tone was icy.
Your eyes, he pointed out, startling me enough to make me lose my glare. Theyre
very green. I was expecting a light brown.
I jerked my head away from him, feeling my cheeks heat up as I hung my face down
toward the dirty water. A couple strands of my precious hair floated past me, and I felt
the urge to cry crawl up inside me again.

68

Anyway, Im done. You can stop pouting.

He reached down into the water at the other side of the tub, unplugging the drain.
The water instantly began to disperse, taking the protection of the bubbles with it. It
suddenly occurred to me that I was losing my last thread of protection against his
eyes.
Get me a towel! I demanded mindlessly. He gave a slow blink at my renewed voice,
but again, he didnt deny me. After turning the showerhead back on, presumably so I
could rinse off, he got off his stool to go grab a towel from the same cabinet he had
grabbed the shampoo from.
I didnt wait for him. As soon as his back was turned, I jumped out of the tub and ran
over to the towels hanging off the bar near the sink. He turned back just as I was
wrapping a forest green one around my waist, the golden letter P etched gracefully
into the bottom corner. I pushed past the irony as I held out one hand for the towel he
had in his hand. He didnt ask why I needed the second one, he probably figured I
had been tortured enough for one day.
This way, he gestured as he turned to lead the way out of the bathroom. His back
was still bleeding.
Arent you going to take a bath, too? I grumbled immaturely as I moved to follow
him. I draped the second towel over my head, down over my shoulders, giving myself
as much coverage as I could.
Ill take a shower later. Over here, he gestured from down the hall.
I moved up toward him, and he continued into an open doorway, into a room. It was
as cold as his office, with white walls and that icy blue theme with the accessories
again.
Is blue your favorite color? I frowned, sulking into the room.
No, he paused, turning towards me. His lips stretched back into that boyish little smile
of his. Green, he answered, staring right into my eyes.
Instantly, I looked away. If he thought he was being clever, he was sorely mistaken.
That one wasnt mean or funny, it was just stupid.
There are clothes for you in that closet. I saw his hand stretch out to point to the right
side of the room from the corner of my eye as he spoke, motioning towards the said
closet.

69

In disbelief, I moved up to open the blue door that led to the walk-in closet. What?
Clothes for me? I didnt know whether to be more freaked out that he already had
clothes picked out for me, which meant he knew I was going to end up here sooner or
later, or that he was staring at me so intently in my towel. Vaguely, I recalled that my
towel was green too.
Is Muffin your real name? he ventured.
Yes, I barked abruptly.
Strange.
It was meant to be a joke at first. You know, my parents thought it would be funny to
just name their kid with a pet name. But when my uncle, who had distinguished
pedophilic tendencies, continuously asked for some muffin, yes, singular, they didnt
think it was funny anymore. My tone was dead serious in all its lying glory, and I
glowered at him as I turned to meet his gaze again. Why do you have clothes for
me?
So you can get dressed, Asher answered without missing a beat.
Who are you? I suddenly blurted out the question that had been gnawing away at
me from day one. Youre not just a businessman, that much is clear. A businessman
doesnt carry around a suitcase thats really a bomb, and if youre so strong, which I
know from personal experience that you are, how did you get mugged? Why were
you in Bumsville? What were you doing with those guys at the docks? And why did
they have guns! I panted angrily.
I dont suggest asking too many questions, he replied coldly, his smile once again
popping out of existence. He took a couple of steps towards me, and I took a couple
back.
I dont care what you suggest. You cant just drag me into this hell hole of a life
youre living and not give me any answers!
When you earn it, youll get answers, he said in that mightier-than-thou attitude.
Fuck you! You completely ruined everything for me. I took a stride forward, reaching
out mindlessly to jab at his chest again. First you hunt me down like a dog, then you
drag me into some weird ass conflict, and then you kiss me without the slightest bit of
explanation!
I didnt kiss you, he said quickly, easily putting his selective listening into practice.

70

Yes you DID! That was not CPR! I accused.

That was not a kiss.
It was a good lead-in. I should have expected it. No, I had set myself up for it, so it
made no sense for me to be downright shocked when it came. He wrapped both
hands around my upper arms and pulled me forward. My head gave an automatic
jerk backward, but he moved one hand up from my arm to the back of my neck,
forcing the towel off my head with a hard pull that set me back into place. His violent
movement wobbled me off my center of balance, and I had to reach out to grab
onto his shoulders to steady myself. He didnt kiss me. He was damn close, but he
didnt kiss me. The light bourbon smell on his breath grazed my mouth, curling up my
nostrils.
I remained unmoving when he pulled away from me, as smoothly as he had first slid in
for the kill. My mouth hung open, my brain half-expecting him to spew some cheesy
line like That would have been a kiss, but he remained stony and silent as ever as he
turned to walk back out of the room.
The loud click of the door closing snapped me out of my trance, immediately letting
my attention drift down to the warm feeling tingling against my lips. I reached up to
touch my mouth, and I saw it.
There was blood on my hands.

71

I must have blacked out, because one moment I was panicking at the very real blood
on my skin, and the next I was laying flat on my back. I hate blood. It always makes
me woozy; if I dont get rid of it fast enough, Ill pass out.
It was already dark outside, so I could safely assume that several hours had passed
since I was last conscious. The room was still cold, but I wasnt. Sitting up, I ran one
hand through my hairwhich I could actually do now that it was clean, without god
knows what clumping the strands together. The inky, dry locks fell gently down across
my cheek, towards the outline of my lower jaw.
As my eyes adjusted to the light, or lack there of, I noticed where I was. On the bed,
wearing some ridiculous two-piece that was actually big for me. It was the same cold
blue that damned every thing else in Ashers life, with thin black vertical pinstripes that
easily reminded me of his suits. Was this his too?
My head was still pounding mercilessly, and when I reached up to touch my forehead
I discovered a butterfly band-aid on my skin, holding the cut together. There was
another one on my cheek, where I had never noticed a wound, and one I expected
over my eyebrow. I moaned at the idea of him cleaning up my face when I was
unconscious. Fucking creepy bastard!
I pushed the comforter that had been tucked up over me to one side, outstretching
my feet out to the floor so I could steadily regain my balance. The sleeves of my
pajamas fell down well past my fingertips, proving quickly enough that this pair wasnt
meant for me. I pulled up the fabric from the waist, not wanting to trip over the longer
legs while I made my way up to the door. I expected it to be locked when I reached
out to twist the doorknob, but it easily turned beneath my light grip.
Before I made my escape, I shuffled my way to where I remembered the bathroom to
be, careful to keep quiet in the seemingly empty house. I hoped, but didnt expect, for
my clothes to still be on the bathroom floor when I got there. Sadly, there was nothing
in sight. Everything was cleaned up, including any mess I might have made during my
historical bath time.

72

It might not have been a bad idea to just dart out then, but I didnt want to have to
fight with the large attire the whole way homeah, the whole way to Annas. So I
went back to the room with the open door, to the closet that had promised me
clothes my size.
I picked out a pair of new grey jeans, and a plain white shirt that I topped with a blue
sweater. It was a dark blue, but still blue. Everything was blue in this fucking weird
house, blue and grey and black. Those were the theme colors of his life, apparently.
I resisted thinking his name as I headed back out of the room, towards the spiraling
staircase. If I wasnt so set on getting out of there as soon as possible, I might have
stopped to admire the paintings I saw along the way, the artistic craftsmanship in the
wooden hand railing, or even the chandelier hanging overhead. There was no time for
beauty when your freedom was on the line.
Downstairs, light spilled into the empty area from an adjacent room. I tiptoed my way
around the shadow just outside the pool of light, not even bothering to see what was
in the next room, or who was in it.
My hands wrapped around the long handle of the door, one thumb bending up to
push down on the latch above as I slowly pulled..
Nothing. No click, no creak, it didnt even budge. I gave a nervous lick to my lower lip
as I reached up in the dim light, searching around in front of me for some sort of lock.
When I found no bump or groove to settle my fingers on, I dropped my hands back
down to the handle. I tried again. Again, nothing.
Its electronic. The door wont open without my fingerprint or a special key, a familiar
voice came from far away.
I jolted upward, reasonably startled by the sound. Twisting around, I peeked toward
the light, able to make out the outline of someone bustling around in a kitchen?
After another stubborn tug to the door, which resulted in no real development, I
begrudgingly turned to drag my feet towards the kitchen.
What kind of person needs an electronic lock? I pouted, pausing in the doorframe
as I raised both arms up to cross them over my chest.
They fit, he glanced up toward me from behind a black marble counter, eyeing my
new clothes.
My old ones fit better, I fired back. Why arent you asleep? He was ruining my
flawless escape plan. Okay, maybe flawless was an exaggeration.
73

Why arent you?

I was, I just woke up. Whats your excuse?
I dont sleep.
I licked at my lips again, unnerved by his serious tone. For some reason, it wasnt hard
for me to believe that. He was creepy enough for it to be true. He must have thought I
was licking my lips because I was hungry though, because he reached out to signal
toward a chair in front of him on the other side of the counter.
Are you hungry? he asked easily enough, like nothing had happened. Like he wasnt
holding me against my will, like he hadnt almost kissed me upstairs, like Wait, was he
still bleeding? The memory of his blood on my hands made me feel dizzy again. I
glanced up toward him again as I made my way to the counter, unable to shake the
image of the sharp broken object embedded in his skin.
He wore a thin black vest over a fresh dress shirt, both white sleeves rolled up to his
elbows. I tried to mentally place the black tie that must have matched the attire, but it
was hard to picture with the first five or six buttons of his shirt wide open. The resulting
effect was stunning; I never thought a man could look pretty, especially a large man
like him. It wasnt that he was oozing muscle, he had a medium build, but he was tall
enough to make him look threatening to anyone. A pretty, threatening man? Asher?
Maybe I was hungry and my mind was freaking out on me.
Yes, I finally decided.
He was already making a sandwich for himself, probably a midnight snack. The knife
used to smear the mayonnaise onto a slice of bread glinted in the light as it moved
rhythmically back and forth, smearing it across all four corners. Two slices of turkey
were picked out individually from a bundle of white paper poking its head out of a
bag with the word Deli written in black ink. He carried them over to the bread,
smoothly rolling them on top where he dropped a few tomatoes he sliced right in front
of me. I felt like I was in one of those Sushi restaurants where they cook and prepare
the food in front of you, or Subway.
After chopping up some fresh lettuce and sprinkling it over the sandwich, Asher pulled
the other piece of bread over it and slid the perfected piece from the chopping
board to a plate. He used the tip of his knife to push it over to me, which instantly
made me anxious again. I didnt want anything sharp pointed towards me. Ever.

74

Isnt that the one you were making for yourself? Ill take the next one, I frowned,
reaching out to push the plate back. He stopped me with a slight flick of his weapon,
pointing the sharp end toward my face.
Its fine. Are you thirsty?
I pulled the plate back toward me as I hopped onto the seat, attempting to look
relaxed. It wasnt working. Do you have coffee?
No. Too much coffee is bad for you, you should have something else.
How about Red Bull? The result was the same. Caffeine and sugar was all I needed.
Water it is, he decided. Behind him, a sleek black refrigerator was popped open for
him to fetch a cold bottle of water for me, along with an Almond muffin. He slid both
over to me across the counter.
Ugh, water, boats, swimming, motion sickness. I hated water.
I stubbornly ignored the bottle as I wrapped my fingers around the bread, raising it up
off the plate to my lips. My first bite was an absolute explosion of tastes, warm and
cold and sweet and sour all at the same time. I had never tasted bread so fresh, turkey
so juicy, or lettuce so crunchy. I quickly resumed devouring the food in front of the
watchful eyes of my tormentor.
You have a scar on the back of your neck, Asher spoke after a long period of
silence. He had already finished making his own sandwich, but didnt bother eating it.
Its a birthmark, I responded automatically through a mouthful of food. It was a
practiced response, and he recognized the deadbeat tone of the mechanical
answer. With a frown he reached out to grab onto my ignored bottle of cold water.
You have similar ones on your right leg and hip, he continued, twisting the cap off
the bottle.
It wasnt hard to guess who had dressed me now. Remembering how I was wearing
underwear, briefs, I shuddered at the thought of how unnecessarily close his hands
had been to my body. Great, all that effort during bath time to keep myself hidden
from him and he had seen it all anyway. This sucked.
Birth marks, I stuck to my story. Of course they werent really birthmarks, they were
elevated, bumpy and disgusting scars that cut in jagged lines through my skin. None
were too big; the longest one was nine inches, stretching from my hip down the length
of my leg. Parallel to that was a smaller one, about three inches on the side of my hip.
75

The one on the back on my neck was only an inch long. I had measured them all
when I was younger and was convinced they were going to ruin my life.
I didnt want to think about how I got the scars, about the blood or water or motion
sickness that made me queasy, so I focused my attention back onto the food in front
of me.
Is that right? He sounded skeptic, which wasnt surprising.
Yes.
How did you get them?
During the birthing process, I snapped crudely. He gave a small frown at my
stubborn nature and sighed, realizing he wasnt going to get anything more out of me.
Asher raised the water bottle up to his lips, taking a long sip that drained half of the
liquid inside. He lowered it back down to the counter to shift his grip to the knife, using
the sharp blade to cut his untouched sandwich in half. Every action he took was much
too graceful for me to avoid following; I felt like I was obligated to watch.
I chewed on my lower lip a bit, trying not to focus on how his lip glistened with the
water coating the surface. This isnt going to be a rags to riches story, you know. You
might as well give up now.
What do you mean? His grey eyes shifted up to me, searing their gaze right into my
brain.
Im not smart, I dont have any hidden talents or dazzling skills. Youre not going to
get anywhere by blooming this unripe flower.
Is that so? he whispered. He glared up at me and I stubbornly met his gaze, unwilling
to blink in fear of losing the small contest, but as I gave a lick to my lower lip I saw his
gaze jump down to my mouth.
He leaned forward over the counter, allowing his shirt to fall open further as I got a
good peek down the low cut of his vest. I had a vague feeling that he wanted to
reach out, and sure enough his hand was tightly curled around the edge of the
counter like it was holding on for dear life. He noticed me looking, so he loosened his
grip in a flowing motion that had his sleeve unrolling itself against the girth of his arm.
As the blood returned to his previously white knuckles, he extended his hand out
toward my face.

76

The movement was slow enough for me to resist the urge to pull back. It didnt head
for my neck, or try to grab at me, so I didnt feel alarmed. His hand stopped an inch
away from touching me, outlining the contour of my face in a carefully slow manner. I
felt absolutely mesmerized, staring into the snakes eyes, following the grey gaze that
traced the lines of my face with my mouth as a simple destination.
Asher?
We both jumped at the soft new voice that disbursed the cloud slowly forming around
usaround me. I turned to glance to the doorway while Asher retracted his hand
safely back to his side. There, I found a scantily clad woman standing in the threshold
of the light, wearing pink panties and a lacey bra that matched.
Her brown hair fell straight down to her collarbone, with bangs cut across her
forehead. She had perfectly full lips painted a vibrant red that matched the faint eye
shadow behind her dazzling blue eyes, and the dark black eyeliner she wore made
her icy eyes pop out at me; a startling contrast against her flawlessly pale skin. The girl
was absolutely beautiful. I gawked at her perfection as she took a few steps forward,
opened her faultlessly plump lips, and ruined everything.
What the hell is this? she screeched in that ungodly voice, throwing a careless hand
in my direction. What is this little whore doing here? She better be leaving soon, I
dont plan on sharing anything tonight.
My face paled.
Thats enough, Liza, Asher grunted.
Whore? I echoed in disbelief.
Oh, youre a boy? she suddenly grinned when I spoke, her lips twisting up in a
wicked manner. She knew perfectly well I was a boy. Bitch. Asher, baby, is this a premid-life crisis? Did you momentarily forget what you liked? Come back to bed and Ill
remind you
Liza, Asher spoke again, a warning in his tone.
Well, what am I supposed to think when you sneak out of bed in the middle of the
night and I find you with someone else? she retorted angrily.
This is my guest, Muffin. He will be staying here until further notice, he informed her.
She pursed her lips together as she raised her hands to cross them over her frilly,
expensive lingerie, refusing to welcome me. Asher didnt care. He picked up his plate
77

of food, moving away from the counter as he turned to glide past me, and past her,
heading back upstairs.
Muffin? she snickered the moment he was gone. What kind of name is that?
Mine, bitch. Learn it, I snapped back, no longer willing to be silent.
She seemed startled by my ability to bite right back; it took her a minute to readjust
herself.
Look, kid. I saw the way you were looking at him, so back off alright? Hes mine. I
worked too hard for this to have a little brat come along and ruin it for me.
This time, I was the one startled.
When I didnt speak, she turned to strut out of the kitchen. I stared at where she
previously stood until I heard the loud crack of a door closing, probably slammed for
my benefit.
The way I was looking at him? What did that mean? I wasnt looking at him any
different! I looked at him like I looked at any other person!
Stupid bitch, I grumbled, back to my insufferably bad mood. I shoved the empty
plate in front of me away in one quick, violent motion that sent it off the counter to the
lower ledge on the other side with the chopping board. It clattered roughly, letting the
untouched muffin roll off and sending the knife flying when it landed on its blade.
I steadily grew uncomfortable when I realized that she mentioned they were in bed
together. Her sex attire was an easy enough hint for me, but what about his clothes?
He didnt look like he had just come from a tumble in the bed sheets. She was
probably lying, the brainless slut.
Wait. Why did I care?
My eyes moved up to the bottle left behind by him to my left, the top still glistening
with the moisture he had left behind. Involuntarily, I reached out to wrap my hand
around the neck of the bottle, before my thumb moved up to trace the outline of the
tip. I was perfectly aware that his mouth had been there a few seconds ago, but that
information didnt completely settle in my brain until I heard some disruptive sounds
from upstairs.
Fuck, I growled to myself as I swatted at the bottle, sending that obstacle flying as
well. It coiled off the edge of the counter and bounced once straight to the floor.

78

I could hear them fucking. Correction, I could hear her fucking. It set me on edge,
hearing her grunt and moan so loudly. She knew I was there, and I knew she was
doing it on purpose.
Pushing myself off the chair, I moved back to the front door in a desperate attempt to
escape. It took one jerk at the handle for me to remember what Asher had told me
about the lock being electronic. I tried a few windows downstairs, but none had any
visible latches to unlock them, and none budged open.
Her screams of passion sounded like nails on a chalkboardI might have been biased,
but seriously, who made sounds like that? I searched for other openings downstairs,
but every door that didnt lead to another part of the house was locked. That bitch
was driving me up the wall, I had to get out of that house. I couldnt stand it anymore.
I picked up a chair and chucked it at a window.
The jeering sound that immediately ensued, filling the house, made me regret my
actions, especially when I saw that the window wasnt even broken. There was no hole
for me to crawl through, no opening, just a crack where the wooden leg of the
antique chair had collided against the glass.
Upstairs, the door flew open. A drumming of footsteps raced down to my level,
followed by the girls persistent calling of Ashers name, and I darted into a closet
without thinking.
Damnit, I felt like a fucking child, and dear daddy was coming down to punish me.
Not that I was wrong.
The alarm I had set off soon died down, permitting silence to once again fill the
bottom floor. Another set of footsteps thumped down the stairs, these ones lighter than
the last. I pictured her prancing down in her little slutty outfit and had to fight back a
gag.
Asher? she called carefully.
Sshh, he quickly silenced her. His voice was close, too close.
I reached up to flatten my hand against my mouth, trying to muffle my breathing so
that he wouldnt find me. My mistake was when I stepped back, trying to flatten
myself against the wall, and knocked into a broom instead. The damned thing slid
along the wall, across a corner, knocking loudly against the door before I could try to
stop it.

79

He opened it within seconds. The lights were all on behind him, so I could see the
window I had assaulted easily enough. At the base of the window ledge, the abused
chair rested quietly on its side.
What is it Asher? What happened? she asked in a tone much softer than she had
used with me. God, I hated her, maybe even more than I hated Asher.
I think it is time for you to leave, Liza, Asher stared right at me while he spoke. A
strange sense of relief washed over me when I noticed that he was still wearing all of
his clothing.
What? Youre kicking me out? she gasped in shock. I still couldnt see her, she was
on the other side of the door he was holding open, but it wouldnt have mattered; I
was trapped by the stern look of the snake in front of me, his hazy eyes unwilling to
release their hold on me.
Leave. Now. It was a direct order. Apparently, dear witless Liza realized that too. I
heard her groan and grumble, listened to her foot steps go back up, then descend
after a few minutes. The whole time, Asher stared me down, never once budging from
his position in front of the door.
Im leaving, she declared impatiently. Did she expect him to stop her? He had been
the one to tell her to leave. Fucking tart, why didnt she just leave already? Couldnt
she take a hint?
Oh god, what was wrong with me?
Asher finally broke eye contact, leaving the closet door open whilst he turned to
disappear behind the barrier. To let her out with his magical fingerprint, I supposed. I
heard the door open, I heard Liza whine and coo as she asked him to change his
mind, and for the life of me I couldnt get my legs to move. I could have run then. I
knew the door was open. Why then, didnt my body budge from the shadows?
Fine, screw this. Im going to Monsoon. Call me later, said Liza.
The door closed and I finally released the breath I had been holding, feeling spent. I
didnt hear him return to the closet, but I saw his shadow before I saw him.
I didnt do anything, was the first thing out of my mouth. It was so pathetic, I had to
wince at myself.
He reached out to grab onto my arm, pulling me out of the closet and into the light. I
cursed the broom that had betrayed me as I stepped over it, staggering into the area
beneath the chandelier. He led me back up the stairs, turning the lights off behind
80

him. I knew he was angry, I could feel the same light shaking in his body that I had
witnessed that night behind the Chinese restaurant.
You cant really be surprised. I dont want to be here, it only makes sense that I tried
to leave, I attempted to spark some sort of conversation, even if it was going to be a
rocky one. He remained silent, his grip tightening painfully on my arm as he led me
back to the room I had initially escaped from. Once at the doorway, he flicked his arm
out to throw me inside, but the moment I saw him turn to leave, I felt my lips part with
the curl of my tongue against the back of my teeth. Fuck, I couldnt stop talking. How
many times did you fuck her?
Asher paused, one hand on the doorknob, the other resting onto the frame. In one
smooth stride, he moved into the room and slammed the door shut behind him. Again
I felt the brunt of his strength when he grabbed a hold of my wrist, virtually crushing my
bones beneath his grip. He pulled me right up to him, twisting my arm upward until we
were practically pressed against each other. I gasped at the pain in my poor limb as I
reached out with my other hand to push defensively at his chest.
Go to sleep, he spoke after a few awkward seconds of silence on his part, and
grunts from useless effort on my part. His words sounded forced; I had the feeling that
they had perfectly been sculpted in his brain and run through the buffer process a few
times before they were spoken. There was a strange look in his eyes again, similar to
the one I saw when he almost kissed me, like he was trying really hard to hold himself
back from doing something he would later regret. The urge to push him until he did just
that bubbled up inside of me.
Im not sleepy, I tried to respond in a nonchalant fashion. It didnt work; my voice
cracked with the pain running up my arm. And I asked you a question. How many
times did you fuck her? Was she good?
His eyes closed impatiently and he inhaled a deep breath, probably to calm himself
down. I migrated my hand from the bare portion of his chest to his squeezing hand,
digging my fingertips into the larger digits that chomped onto my limb like an iron trap.
He jerked my caught wrist down, twisting it even further. Apologize, he demanded.
I tried to turn with his grip, so that my shoulder didnt dislocate with his slapdash act of
rage. That time, I wasnt trying to get away, I just wanted to lessen my physical pain,
but Asher saw it as an escape attempt. He reached up with his other hand to grab
onto my chin, jerking it toward him.
Apologize.

81

I trembled at the heat of his breath against my face. The scent of bourbon was gone,
but my brain assured me it was there. I nervously licked at my lower lip and his gaze
flashed down to follow the movement of my tongue. Unceremoniously, his grip on my
face tightened. My teeth felt like they were going to cave in on each other.
Apologize to me, Muffin. It was a warning this time. It was my last chance, before he
probably broke my arm, but I didnt care. I was going to fight him every step of the
way. My fevered breathing quickly dried up my lips again, so I extended my tongue
once more to lick the surface. His careful eyes followed the movement of the little pink
organ protruding from my lips. I noticed the gaze narrow as he painfully clenched his
jaws together.
Unexpectedly, a careless toss of my poor, feeble body had me flat on my back. In a
heartbeat, he was on top of me, never speaking a word. The calm look he usually
sported, even when he was mad, was still on his face but there was something
different, an animalistic ferocity that had me recoiling away from him in a daze. His
hands locked onto my hips, jerking me back toward him across the pale carpet. When
they flicked back up, his fingers rushed beneath my clothing, hiking both layers up
across my chest in one clean stroke. A light gasp tore past my mouth at the cold air
that licked against my skin, across my nipples, reminding me in a crude fashion of how
unprotected I really was. The same fingers raked back down, leaving visibly red trails
from the sheer uncontrolled force he applied to my skin. Past my stomach, his fingers
hooked onto my pants and jerked, bursting the button off the front of my jeans with an
audible pop. I loudly sucked in my breath when his fingers dipped into the warmth of
my briefs.
The sound of my lungs refilling with the cold air seemed to snap him out of whatever
he had gone into. The grey eyes, once again clear, jerked up toward my flushed,
probably frightened expression. He raised both hands to his face, rubbing them down
from forehead to chin as he heaved a sigh through his lips.
SHIT! he bellowed in a frustrated manner, his voice booming past the barrier of his
hands. It was the first time I had heard him curse, if shit really even counted. But it was
also the first time I had seen him completely lose his cool.
I couldnt speak for once in my pathetic life. My mind ran a loop of what happened
over and over in my head, like a crappy old movie that just skipped out on blanket
frames towards the end. I could hear the soft tick, tick, tick of the film running out of
the 35mm movie projector in my head. The fuzzy screen ensued.
He pushed his way up to his feet, managing to somehow regain his composure within
the few seconds it took me to convince my lungs to release the oxygen they selfishly
held onto. I blinked, and the cold mask was back on his face. Nothing had happened.
It was all in my head.
82

Go to sleep, he repeated his command from before. Alrick will take you back in the
morning. His footsteps beat rhythmically against the floor, where I could feel the
vibrations of his feet tremble up to my body.
Back? Back where? Alrick was alive? I didnt know if I was supposed to be relieved, my
mind hadnt stopped unraveling yet. The movie rewound itself in my head, stopped,
and played again. I heard the door to my room close. A few seconds later, another
door closed. My stomach relaxed once I succeeded in forcing my body to move
again. I brought my hands up to my face, cupping my features in my palms as I slowly
rolled onto my side.
Yeah right, like I could get any sleep now.
In the silence of my room, my heartbeat sounded like a jackhammer rapidly drilling a
hole into the density of my ribcage. Every breath I took stretched my skin against the
thin red marks, which instantly snapped the movie in my head back to the image of
him hovering over me. My body felt irritably hot, but no matter how far I reached into
the back of my head, my usually useful sarcastic wit couldnt bring up even a halfassed excuse. I couldnt even get to the very blatant question of What happened?, I
thought it, but I couldnt pause long enough to ponder it. The background of eerie
quiet against the strokes of my jumbled thoughts made the urge to vomit once again
a possibility.
I didnt have to wait long in that silence; again a door cracked open, footsteps,
another door, and two voices. I slowly sat up, scooting my shirt down the length of my
torso while swinging both hips towards the door. The light in the hallway flickered on,
spilling its gold evidence out from beneath the crack of my door. I could hear the two
voices, and even though I didnt know what they were saying, I welcomed the
distraction.
Pushing myself up onto my hands and knees, I made my way over to the door so I
could discretely push my ear against the surface. I could hear them better, but the
whispered words were still too muffled for me to make out. Unable to control my
curiosity, I stretched out one hand to grab the doorknob and slowly twist the barrier
open.
Through a crack, I could see down the hall, where a shirtless Asher led another man
into his room. I noticed the stranger begin to strip before the door closed behind them.
I didnt go out of my room again that night.

83

A few knocks at the door had me up on my feet the next morning and racing over to
the barrier in a strange daze. I dont know what I was expecting when I opened the
door, but a part of me felt awfully disappointed when I saw Alrick.
Good morning, he smiled, a bitterly sweet expression that didnt fit his rough
features.
Oh hi, I frowned back at him.
Dont look too happy to see me, he continued to smile carelessly as he shifted his
weight from one foot to the other, glancing over my head to the empty room behind
me.
I wont, I mumbled as I stretched one hand up to pat at my arm. I was incredibly
cold, had been all night, but I refused to go under the blue covers that I knew
belonged to Asher. Like a stubborn brat, I sat on the floor and waited for the sun to
come up past the mountains just beyond the outline of the black window in my room,
hoping beyond hope that no outside sounds could reach me. Lizas voice had
imprinted itself into my brain, echoing over and over again with the imagery ofI tried
hard not to think of the old movie, giving a quick shake of my head to rattle the
projector off its mantel.
Are you ready? Alrick offered, with a pause that hinted at the fact that he had
changed his question before it was asked. Am I okay? Is that what he wanted to say?
Yeah, sure, where are we going?
I was instructed to take you back to the diner.
I didnt need to ask who had instructed him, I already knew, and judging by the way
he peered down at me, Alrick already knew that I knew.
Alright, I agreed.

84

I pushed past him as quickly as I could, moving into the hallway and twisting toward
the stairs. Just like last night, they spiraled downward, but my eyes refused to follow the
steps down; they locked onto the door directly across the hall instead, the large door I
knew led to the master bedroom. My heart picked up speed as Alrick shifted beside
me, turning in my direction.
Hey kid?
I didnt give him a chance to continue; the moment his voice snapped me out of my
thoughts, I moved towards the staircase. With one hand on the railing, I led my bare
feet down two at a time, heading straight to the exit. The fact that the double doors
were ajar didnt faze me in the least, but again I had to stop myself from thinking
about the lock, the fingerprint, and the special key.
Hey kid! Slow down!
His voice sounded so far away, in the back of my mind, that I never stopped to
actually listen to what he said, but I heard him. I just wanted to get out of there, out of
that house and off the premises. The thought of returning to my precious diner filled
me with so much fruitless aspiration that I didnt realize my attire until I stepped past
the open doors threshold.
The cold air hit me like a block of ice, smashing into every bare part of my body and
seeping through the fabric of my shirt until it once again licked at my skin. Goose
bumps broke out like hives across my arms, down the back of my neck, devouring
even the soft flesh on the small of my back without an inch of hesitation. I retreated
almost instantly, once again bringing both hands up to wrap my arms around myself
as I pressed my back against the door.
Jesus, whats the hurry? I told you to slow down, Alrick huffed as he popped out from
behind the door holding a plastic bag in one hand and a large jacket in the other.
Here, put this on. Youll catch a cold.
I reached out for the jacket first, flipping the blue fabric around to thrust my arms
through the sleeves so that the back fell down across my shoulders. My hands
trembled in their plight to bring the two opposite edges of the collar together, but
somehow they managed to snap the button into place for sheer security before I tried
to fumble with the zipper.
Youre acting really strange, you know that? Alrick sighed. He didnt look very
amused with my behavior, and he didnt wait for me to figure out why the zipper
wasnt hooking onto the clasp; he grabbed onto the bottom of the jacket for me and
quickly zipped it up to my throat.
85

I shivered at the sound of metal, swallowing uncomfortably against the pressure

against my neck. It felt too familiar to be settling, even the warmth the jacket offered
now made me uncomfortable, including the sharp blue contrast of the material
against the grey jeans I wore. Although Alrick paused for my response, probably
expecting a smart-aleck retort, I remained silent in fear that if I opened my mouth a
sound other than my controlled voice would escape.
Alright well, here, he continued, his German accent a bit more noticeable when
he grunted with the thrust of his arm forward. I pried my eyes away from my own
hands to look down at his, where again I found myself acknowledging the bag he
held.
I glanced back up at him silently, wrinkling my nose into my face with nothing short of
confusion.
Open it, he said slowly, as if pronouncing the words better would somehow make my
brain kick up and function properly again.
I reached out with one hand to grab the bag, and pried it open with the other. The
box inside wasnt immediately identified, so I left the bag to search into the box. Each
layer fell away from me in what felt like slow motion, first the plastic bag, then the
brown box, and finally the white paper that was wrapped around the bundle; finally, I
found two brand new Converse shoes in my hand, the telltale star printed on each
ankle.
Its not blue, I spoke absentmindedly.
Was it supposed to be? Alrick sounded strangely relieved, maybe because I was
talking again. He bent down to pick up the packaging I had dropped while I turned
the shoes in my hand, looking them over from every possible angle. They were much
better than my old ones; but then again, that pair I had found hanging from a broken
street lamp in Bumsville.
Its green, I frowned, trying to swallow back the strange taste in my mouth.
We can return it, if you want. Is blue your favorite color? he asked in a nonchalant,
easy tone.
Was that a joke? Blue my favorite color? I felt like that damned color was following me
everywhere, and never mind how it reminded me of water, but now it just reminded
me of the creepy soulless bastard that lived in the house behind me.

86

No. I didnt want the shoessure, Ive always liked Converse, but the fact that it
came from someone I didnt like made me nauseous. It felt like a bribe, or did I just
look like one of those people that were easy to buy? Just because I was homeless
didnt mean I didnt have pride! The nerve!
What is your favorite color? Alricks voice piped up again, managing to pop me out
of my thoughts once more.
My favorite color? I echoed, narrowing my gaze onto the new shoes in my hands. I
thought of the bright neon pink of the Annas Diner sign, the brilliant gold of Annas
hair, the gentle brown of Sandys eyes, the thick grey of my streets, the soft sandy
color that fell into the dull murky eyes I dont have one, I paused, involuntarily
licking my lips. But I hate blue.
Oh, Alrick sounded a bit put off by my tone, a response I didnt expect. I tore my
eyes away from the Converse to look up at the German guards face, realizing for the
first time that he had very soft blue eyes; they reminded me of Zack, which instantly
helped me relax. I studied his face then, following the fresh scab on his forehead to
the new white bandage wrapped around his head, with the pale blonde strands
sticking out of the sides like little iron spikes from an iron maiden. I dont know why I
never actually noticed it before, but he had the slightest dimple in his left cheek when
he smiled. Mine is red.
My stomach lurched. The knowledge of why he was bandaged in the first place
suddenly hit me; the blast, the boat, the water, the blood, it all came rushing back.
Every fact fell into place like tiny pieces of a puzzle, like drops of water filling up the rest
of the cup. Drip. Drip.
Hey kid? Kid? Alricks fingers were snapping in front of my eyes, trying to rouse me
from my thoughts again. I was thankful for his interference, for the images in my
overactive imagination were very close to making me physically ill. Youre not
yourself. Where is your biting sarcasm? Arent you going to make a joke about my
favorite color and how Im German? No? No Hitler comments? he paused, getting
nothing but a frown from me. Did you get any sleep last night?
I winced away from his words, a phrase too similar to the one still echoing in my ears. I
shook my head in response, and thankfully it was enough for him. He gave a knowing
nod, like my lack of sleep explained everything.
Put your shoes on, come on. Ill take you back, he smiled that sweet smile again, like
he had figured out the answer to all my problems.
I shoved my bare feet into the new converse, not bothering to lace up the front or
ponder why they fit me perfectly, then turned to leap down the stairs that led the way
87

to the road stretching up from the black gates and the car in front. Alrick went around
to the drivers side as I slipped into the passenger, this time without any hesitation. Yes,
I hated cars, but if one was going to take me away from the cold blue house, I was
willing to sit in it for a while.
We sat in unsettling silence at first, the kind that makes you want to claw off your own
skin just so there is some sort of sound in the air, which understandably made us both
nervous. I would have usually been the one to break it, but my mind kept weaving in
and out of thoughts I hadnt yet given myself a chance to complete.
So, why didnt you get any sleep? Not used to beds? he chuckled, his gruff voice
bouncing up into the octaves the way Zacks Santa-voice never would.
Asher tried to rape me.
The words came out so quickly that even I didnt realize I had said them until they
echoed off the structure of the car and bounced back into my ears. From the corner
of my eye, I noticed Alrick stiffen, tensing up with my accusation. He didnt speak, and
his decision to ignore what could have been a fatally traumatic event for me made
me angry. Okay, so it wasnt technically true, but the goon didnt know that did he?
He did, I insisted, grinding my teeth together while my rage boiled.
The Germans blue eyes shifted, stealing a quick glance in my direction before
popping back to the road in front of him. Did he?
Yes.
Do you want me to take you to the police station? You can report it.
My eyes widened at the shift in his voice; a dead serious tone that promised its owner
would do as claimed. I stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds, wondering if he
was bluffing, but he gave no sign that he wasno smile, no grin, no tacky just kidding
added to the end of his sentence. He merely stared forward at the road as his big
hands smoothly controlled the car in a way that rarely allowed me to realize we were
turning down a winding road.
No, I finally decided. He didnt actually try to rape me. You didnt seem surprised
when I said that, though.
Alricks smile was nowhere in sight, and this time he didnt give me a glance either. His
hand shifted down from the wheel, gliding across the stick shift to reallocate the gear
to four. The car kicked up a notch, picking up in speed where it was apparently
lacking before.
88

No, he spoke after several long seconds.

No, you werent surprised? Why? Because hes done it before? I could hear my
heart beating again, drilling a hole into my chest.
No, he suddenly chuckled. Mr. Pickett has never raped anyone before, he gave a
small pause, his smile flickering back off his lips as he gave me an official glance. Hes
a good man.
That didnt sound right. Good man wasnt allowed in the same conversation as Asher
Pickett, it just didnt fit to me. I glared at my driver in utter disdain, because while I
could have assumed that he was just saying it out of duty, the respect and loyalty in
his voice said otherwise. He believed what he said, that much was clear.
He does get what he wants, though, he supplemented just as I opened my mouth to
counter his claim. His words made my big mouth snap shut, while I tried hard to
swallow my comments back down. I had a distinct feeling he wanted to add on And if
he wants you at the end of his sentence.
Thats fucking stupid, I hissed. My anger had dulled the numbness Asher had instilled
in me, and as the fire burned, it melted the ice the cold house had managed to frost
around my edges. You cant always get what you want, especially if you want to
dictate other peoples lives. I dont care that he rules over your life as well as
Vincenzo's, but Im not go
Drip. Drip.
Vincenzo, I repeated, finding that the name itself had a sour taste.
Hes alright, Alrick smiled, seeming to read my mind. I was going to go visit him after
I dropped you off, but if you want you can come with me. Its on the way.
Visit him? Where was he? On the way?
Yeah, Alecs Loks Memorial Hospital, well be passing it on the way to your diner.
The hospital?
You dont have to come with me, he added quickly when he next glanced at me.
I rocked back in my seat, pressing myself harder against the cushions as I brought both
arms closer to my body for warmth. The glossy material on the surface hinted that the
jacket was for rain, but the inside was so warm and fuzzy that I doubted I would be
89

taking it off ever again. I focused my eyes onto the stitching of a sleeve, trying to
count the number of times the yarn weaved in and out of the fabric. One two
three four
Hey, kid?
It suddenly occurred to me that Alrick didnt know my namenot that I was going to
tell him, but why didnt his boss inform him?
We can go to the police station if you want. Thats on the way too.
I ground my feet into the floor of the car as I twisted my head away, towards the
window, trying to tell the speed by the way the trees whizzed effortlessly past us. There
werent many cars in the road, but the pavement looked new and the environment
painfully clean.
Are you listening?
Why do you work for him? I fired back, keeping my head turned away.
Hes a good man.
Fuck, what a joke.
And the explosion out by the docks? Or wherever that was, out in the water. Was that
him being a good man?
Yes.
I flinched at his answer, so direct and to the point. My rage bubbled to the surface
again, shooting past the awkward embarrassment I felt without the protection of my
precious dirt. I seethed up at him, hating the proud look on his bruised face.
You were brainwashed, werent you?
Perhaps, Alrick said. His head turned briefly in my direction, his eyes once again
grazing me before his lips stretched into yet another smile.
Why do you keep smiling? I barked, furrowing my eyebrows at him. Did he find this
funny? Did he think it was a joke?
Oh, he momentarily pushed his smile away, but when he glanced at me again it
spread like the plague across his face. Its just that well, you look cute without all
that dirt on you. Like a kitten.
90

It wasnt exactly flattering to hear a two hundred pound German full of muscle and
life-taking-abilities call me cute, especially in reference to a fucking kitten, but I didnt
know whether it was an insult or a compliment. Was he saying that I was fluffy or
clumsy in a slightly amusing but uncoordinated way? I didnt know, and in the end I
decided to just gawk at him in disbelief.
Youre kidding me that is why youve been smiling since you picked me up? I
breathed, my voice cracking.
Alricks response was an easy smile, and I winced away from it to turn back to the
window. My life had been derailed so violently during the past couple of days that I
didnt even have the energy to say anything mean back to him. I was suddenly so
jealous of those people with the unlimited ability of pretending like nothing bad
happened, like everything was always okay. The exhaustion from no sleep, my
adventure by the docks, and the struggle in Ashers house finally settled into place,
reminding me how much my body ached and how sore I was. I peered down through
the bulk of the bushes outside my window, watching the thick vegetation merge into
concrete and then morph into buildings and streets.
Finding myself back in the city made me feel good, like I had just gotten a handful of
cold water splashed in my face after a long nap. My exhaustion wasnt gone, but I
was so elated to be back in my own territory that I managed to work the glare out of
my expression.
I didnt give Alrick the chance to say goodbye, to give me any more compliments or
advice, I didnt even wait for him to actually drop me off at my destination. The
moment he stopped at a red light, I threw the seatbelt off, flung the door open and
leapt to safe ground.
Kid!
His voice was just a faint memory now. I pushed it out of my head, away from my
jumbled thoughts, focusing all my energy on the neon sign of Annas Diner that I
pictured in my head while my eyes desperately searched for it. People didnt move
away from me in waves like they used to, but I shoved past them just as consistently. I
knew where I was going and no ordinary human was going to stop me.
The Christmas lights were still up, the horrible painting was still on the window, and as
usual people were bustling around inside. I burst into the diner in a hurry, throwing the
door back to make room for myself.
Nothing happened. No one moved from their seats, looked up at me, turned away
from me, or gave me a glare. Sandy didnt screech Muffy! in her usual voice when
91

she strolled past me, offering someone else some coffee, and Cassandra didnt sneer
at me when she glanced in my direction. I searched the rest of the diner for Anna,
wanting to see her comforting smile, but when I found her she was turned away in the
corner, talking on the phone.
There is something painfully depressing about not having the only people you love
and trust recognize you. I knew most of Annas customers, they were regulars and so
was I, but even they didnt seem to know who I was; I was now just another stranger.
The burst of energy I had achieved in the car died away when I saw Cassandra, of all
people, smile at me. I pushed Alricks comment about me being cute out of my head
as I finally moved away from the door, to one of the empty stools.
Can I get you something, sir? Cassandra approached me, with the coffee pot in
one hand and a corner of her apron in the other. She used the fabric to wipe at her
arms, clearing away the stains of food across her flesh.
I shook my head at her, not even bothering to glance at her face. She didnt know
who I was, no one did. I considered going out to cover myself in slime and dirt again,
but I felt too heavy to move. My body felt as rigid as it had in Ashers house, when I
stayed up all night staring out the window.
She moved away from me to take the order of another customer, so I glanced up
again to peer in Annas direction. She had her back to me, still talking on the phone,
gesturing wildly as if she was arguing with someone. I wanted her to argue with me. I
wanted her to turn around, to see me, to know me, to recognize me and give me
coffee or even chide me. I would have taken anything at that point.
But she didnt turn, and no one else glanced in my direction. I sighed as I ran both
hands up through my hair, moving the long bangs out of my face and back behind
my ears. The friction of my cold fingers against my warm scalp sent a small shiver down
my spine, making me feel even more tired than before. I heaved another sigh through
my lips, feeling utterly depressed at my lack of purpose.
The green cup appeared out of nowhere, filled to the brim with steaming, fresh coffee
and slid toward me rather easily. I had to glance back at it twice before I could
convince myself it was really there. My eyes wandered up from the hand holding the
handle to the owner of the limb hovering just behind it.
I knew I smelled something sour, Zack whispered. I felt a strange moisture sting my
eyes while my lips stretched back into an unrivaled smile, bursting with the pathetic
happiness I felt at seeing his face. And there he was, staring back at me with those
warm blue eyes, recognizing me. Maybe I didnt hate blue that much after all.

92

Hi Zack, I coughed, clearing my throat of the lump that had formed with his
appearance. I used one sleeve to quickly wipe at my eyes before I stretched both
hands out to grab at my favorite green cup.
Hey kiddo. Howre you doing? he chuckled his gentle Santa Claus chuckle,
reaching one massive hand out to ruffle my hair. He didnt look as surprised as I did to
find the strands alive and moving, but he seemed pleased with the fact that I was
clean. Im sad I didnt get to see you yesterday. How was working at the docks? Did
you have fun?
My smile faded at the memory, but before I could get too overworked, I realized
something that I should have thought of before.
You mean it wasnt in the papers? I frowned.
What wasnt? he asked smoothly, snatching a Bran Muffin from behind the counter
to slide it in my direction, like he had saved it there for me the entire day.
The expl the accident. It was by the docks. Wasnt it in the papers?
An accident? Annas voice came from my left, her alarmed tone making me jump
up in surprise. What happened? Are you okay?
I turned to glance at her, steadily feeling my world go awry again. They didnt know?
How could they not know? That explosion was massive, the smoke it caused stretched
on for miles into the sky. How could they not know? I expected the papers to lie about
it, but not for the story to be completely overlooked.
Oh, no! Muffin! Anna gasped, pushing past Zack to stand directly in front of me on
the other side of the counter. Her dainty hands touched my face gently, running
across the butterfly bandages on my eyebrow and forehead as she traced the outline
of my facial features. I tried not to think of Asher doing something similar as I focused
on her worried expression.
Im fine, I jerked away from her, half glad that she recognized me, half annoyed that
she was freaking out when she didnt even know the whole story.
Well if thats your definition of fine, young man, I dont want to see you hurt! she
barked in her chiding tone, only making me smile. It felt good to hear it again, for a
second there I didnt think I would get a chance to ever again.
Its nothing. I wasnt in the accident, it was just near me. I thought maybe you might
have heard of it, but I guess it wasnt that big a deal. I got this from falling, I

93

explained as I gestured up toward my face. Fuck that sounded like such a lame
excuse.
I thought they were just battle wounds. You know, from the war against the dirt, Zack
chuckled as he winked at me. Glad to see that Mr. Pickett finally convinced you to
clean up! How did he do it? Offer you money? I knew we should have bribed him,
Anna, he grinned slyly as he gave her a little nudge.
Oh, Zack, hush, Anna sighed before turning to me. Are you sure youre okay Muffin?
Do you want to go take a nap upstairs? she gushed, making me feel warm and sticky
inside when she reached out to touch my face again.
Im alright, I forced a smile to my lips. Not wanting to offer them any more
information, even though I knew Anna was dying to ask questions, I swiveled away in
my seat with the cup of coffee clasped tightly in my hands. It tasted absolutely
delicious, perfectly made and at just the right temperature. After the night I had, I
needed the caffeine, but more than that I wanted the pleasant memories the taste
brought.
I followed the bounce in Sandys step as she moved from one side of the diner to the
other, making sure all drinks were full, people were happy with their food, and that
they would be leaving her accommodating tips. I grinned at the familiarity of her
routine, realizing that although I never stopped to study it before, I knew all her tricks
by heart. She gave a flutter of her eyelashes when she thought a stray guy liked her,
but she was very polite when a couple was together so she wouldnt offend the
girlfriend. It was sweet, now that I thought about it.
See? Hes not even listening. Hey, Muffin! Zack yelled. His large, stubby hand
grabbed onto my shoulder, giving me a shake that had me spilling my coffee all over
my jacket. I cursed at the waste of caffeine as I turned back toward them, vigorously
using one sleeve to push the dark liquid off the resilient fabric of my attire.
What? I grumbled.
Anna was asking if you were hungry, but, he paused, leaning over her and toward
me as he dropped his voice into a low, hushed tone. I have a surprise for you.
It felt so fucking weird to be back at the diner, and like this. I was in this diner yesterday
morning, but so much had happened since then that I felt like I hadnt seen my
precious Zack, Anna and coffee in weeks. The couple was treating me the same way,
even though I looked remarkably different. Still, Anna didnt even seem to notice, Zack
just didnt care, and me? I felt naked.

94

A surprise? I set the cup down on the counter, first glancing at Anna, then at her
husband. What kind of surprise?
Come on, he signaled quickly.
I gladly moved away from Annas continuously worried look, moving toward the end
of the long stretch of counter where it gave away into the wall. Zack opened the small
door that led the way behind the stone table, but I hesitated on the outside. I had
been in the back of the diner a couple of times, when I was younger, but ever since I
completely drowned myself in filth, Zack had banned me due to health reasons. I
glanced up at him nervously, not sure if I could cross the invisible line now, but he gave
me a reassuring nod and reached out to pat my head.
I stepped over, merging from the front of the store to behind the counter, where Zack
opened a door that led to the kitchen. Two ovens sat side by side, both of the switches
flicked onto the On position and the red light that indicated they were baking as
bright as when I last remembered them. I stepped over two boxes of ingredients
slumped on one side, bypassing the table with flour and icing smeared across the
surface as I followed Zack through another door.
He led the way to the back of the diner; with the trashcans, the shed and the little tent
I used to camp out in a couple years back. I smiled at the memory of huddling in one
corner of the shabby little thing, reading my favorite comic book by flashlight and
cuddling in the afghan Anna had sewn me by hand. Jason sent that little memento
through the jaws of his crazy golden retriever the moment he found out his mom didnt
make one for him too. Jealous fuck.
Over here, Muffin! Zacks voice touched my ear, encouraging me to turn away from
the tent. What? This wasnt my surprise?
When I faced him, I realized instantly what he was talking about. The bundle of filth
was standing next to Zack, wagging his little tail and panting excitedly in my direction.
Porto! I gasped, spurring the dog into action. My filthy mutt ran right up the side of
the building and leapt against my chest, almost knocking me back in his fury to lick at
my face. I laughed quietly at his sincere happiness to see me as I wrapped both of my
arms around his torso and pulled him close, forcing him to balance himself on his hind
legs while I hugged him.
My poor mutt, he had probably come here looking for me when I didnt go to him last
night. Was he hungry? I trailed my hand against his forehead, stroking back the longer
strands of tainted white that fell against his ears. The soft, fluffy mounds gave away
beneath the pressure of my touch, folding back to allow my hands invasion. Porto

95

licked at me again, softly whimpering against my clean skin like he was worried.
Everyone was worried.
He showed up last night, Zack explained, confirming my speculations. Kept
scratching at the door till I let him in. You know how Anna is about dogs, so I let him
into the back. Gave him some turkey this morning, he beamed happily.
Thanks, Zack. I meant it. If there was one thing more important to me than my pride,
it was my pup. I found him wandering the streets in Bumsville last year, searching every
nook and cranny for scraps to eat. Back then, I could wrap both of my hands around
his body and have my fingers touch, but now he was a fat, spoiled mutt. No one knew
what he was; Porto had the structure and tail of a Husky, but the strange yellow color
of a Labrador. Given, that color was horribly spoiled by the dirt on him.
The mutt jerked away from my hug when standing on two got too tiring for him, but he
didnt leave my side. With his nose ducked low against the ground, he circled me,
probably confused by all the differently new scents smeared on me as well as my
clothing. I chuckled at his childish curiosity as I reached down to pet at his head,
sloshing miniature clouds of dust off the thin fur on his scalp.
Behind me, Zack began to cough, a soft, dull sound that escalated when Porto and I
both turned to look at him. He tried to morph the disruptive sound into a chuckle, but
we werent buying it. My mutt whimpered at my side, following me while I
approached the larger man still standing by the door.
Are you okay? I whispered, testing the waters. He hadnt shaven today, which was
never a good sign. When Zack didnt shave, it meant he was stressing out over
something, probably money.
Me? Im fine! Im not the one that looks like they havent slept in days, he grinned
back at me.
I didnt care how bad I looked, he was changing the subject, and thankfully for me,
he didnt have Anna around to distract me. I saw the worry in his eyesthis time, it
wasnt for me. What is it?
Muffin, he sighed, finally letting his smile fade. Nothing is wrong. Were fine.
We?
He hesitated, tilting his head down toward me as he deliberated telling me the truth. It
might have come, if Porto hadnt started barking like the crazy little mutt he was. I
grabbed onto the bandana wrapped around his neck, jerking him back to silence him
in hopes of giving a chance for Zack to continue. He didnt.
96

I think he found a rat, Zack smiled again, hinting that all seriousness was gone. Any
chance at me getting to the truth went flying with every bark from the dogs jowls.
When I released him, Porto went racing off to the right, dashing half way under the
heavy metal frame of a trashcan.
You can tell me, I mumbled, trying not to sound too dejected by his secrecy. He
rested one heavy hand on my shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze, but it didnt
feeling too reassuring.
Its nothing, Muffin.
Do you need anything?
No, were fine.
Are you sick?
Me? Sick? I never get sick!
Is it Anna?
No, shes as healthy as ever.
A customer giving you a hard time?
No, of course not.
Is it your weight again?
My weight is just fine.
Alien abduction?
Dont be silly.
Is it money?
No, he snapped. His answer was too quick for it to be the truth, and for once he
sounded angry with me. Without another word, he left me in the small area with my
dog behind me still scratching at something unseen. Zack hated it when I didnt drop
a subject, but I hated it when he wouldnt tell me the truth so I counted us as even.

97

Come on boy, I whispered, snapping my fingers twice to get Portos attention. I had
tried whistling, commands, bells and treats when I first found him, but he didnt
respond to anything except a clap or a snap, and only sometimes to his name.
I gently patted his head when he stretched his snout up to smell my hand, leading him
out through the broken down little fence that led the way back to the street. When
Zack was angry, which was rare, he would stay angry for twenty four hoursso unless I
wanted to get chewed out by Anna or anger him any further, I knew the best thing to
do was disappear for the day.
Compared to that morning, I felt incredibly better. Being out in the open did that to
me, I just loved the fresh air, the dirty ground, the very real sights and scents that
flourished my senses when I was out in the real world. If I was up in a house or building
for too long I tended to lose my mind, I always felt caged and my heart just couldnt
handle it.
But now, what to do about Zack?
Thoughts of money immediately took me in one direction, but I didnt dare pursue
those ideas any further. Alrick, Vincenzo, and their boss were out of my life, I wasnt
going to even let himerr, them, touch my thoughts again. So where to go? I hadnt
been lying when I informed my tormentor that I held no special talent, I really couldnt
do much of anything except survive. That was an art of its own though, one I had yet
to master.
I kept my pup close to me while we moved down the street, happy just to have him
around. Every chance I got I stretched one hand down to pat at his coat just to
remind myself he was there. I missed him a lot, after just one night without getting to
cuddle with him. Apparently, he had missed me too.
Good boy, I smiled to myself as I weaved through the crowd, leaving enough space
next to me to have him tag along without any problems. The cold air ruffled his hair as
well as mine, and with a slight shiver I shoved both hands into my pocket.
I stopped walking so quickly that Porto knocked into my leg, whimpered, and
staggered back. The object in my pocket was distinct enough for me to know what it
was but still somehow manage to doubt myself. I slowly poked at the outline with my
fingertips, trying to figure out why I hadnt noticed its heaviness before.
With my mutt whimpering at my feet, and random pedestrians throwing me strangely
familiar glances of anxiety, I pulled the thing out. It was a wallet, black with an outline
of red tacked along the edges. I pushed the immediate assumption of Alricks doing
out of my head as I popped open the twin silver buttons sealing it shut to peer inside.

98

Where one might have originally put a driver license, I found a blue card with black
letters spelling out Asher Pickett across the front. It was a familiar card, the same one I
had been handed one, two, three days ago. I ran my fingers over the empty little
pockets, up towards the fold that was meant to hold money, and when I opened it I
found a thin layer of cash. There were only a couple of bills, but as I pulled them out I
found that each one was a hundred dollar bill.
Fuck, I hissed, slamming the wallet shut to shove it back into my pocket. It was a
mistake, it had to be or maybe it was a bribe. He was trying to buy me again. Part of
me wanted to give it back to him, to shove it in his face and tell him I didnt want his
charity but part of me insisted that I take advantage. I could use a couple of the
bills, give them to Zack if he needed money, or spend it on Porto. He did need a collar,
maybe a nametag or a leash.
When did I start thinking like this?
No, I wouldnt spend the money, especially not on myself or for my own selfish needs. It
wasnt my money, I hadnt earned it, and I had no right to it.
I pulled my hands out of the pockets of my jacket, instead shifting them to the ones in
my pants as I continued down the street with no real destination in mind. I didnt
realize I was heading towards the strange building until the bright, sickeningly
florescent lights fell onto my face.
Hey, no dogs allowed kid, a security guard frowned down at me, wiggling his finger
in my direction. This is a hospital!

99

Did you hear me? the guard grunted roughly.

Asshole.
What? I yelled back, even though he was standing only a few feet away from me.
I said no dogs allowed! This is a hospital! he repeated.
Its my seeing eye dog. I cant see without him, I frowned, staring straight at the
man. He actually believed me for a second; it took him a while to realize that I didnt
have a leash for my dog to guide me anywhere. I dont think he fully understood what
I said, either.
Get out of here, little brat! the security guard yelled, waving a hand in my direction
to shoo me away.
Calm down old man, Im not bringing him inside, I sneered. The guard was by no
means old, but I guess he was at that sensitive age where he felt he hadnt achieved
anything in the short span of his pathetic life and his dead-end job as a security guard
because he got really pissed when I said that.
But what was he going to do, honestly? Call the cops on me?
I beamed at him, standing just outside of his jurisdiction with my dirty ball of fur sitting
obediently at my side. We both stared up at the hospital, watching the sun melt
behind the tall building and light up the reflective glass through the other side.
Get OUT of here before I call the
Yeah, yeah, I grumbled, cutting him off before he could embarrass himself any
further. Honestly, I never understood why they had security guards in the first place
when they rarely did anything. At least give them a gun or a self-defense class, these

100

poor shmucks wouldnt know what to do with themselves if there was ever any real
conflict.
I gave a pat to Portos head before I turned to walk past the front of the hospital, back
towards the street. A strange sense of guilt tugged at me when I passed the sign that
read Alecs Loks Memorial Hospital in red letters across a white background. Alricks
voice was there, in the back of my head, reminding me that Vincenzo was
somewhere in this hospital.
Even if I did go in, how was I supposed to find him? He was just another patient here,
and probably not the only grumpy Italian. Regardless of my own sense of guilt and
curiosity, I couldnt just march in there and demand to see the guy.
I didnt even know his last name.
Porto rubbed his body against the corner of the sign we paused beside, working out
an itch in his back by repeatedly grinding his spine against the hard surface. I listened
to him whimper at the undoubtedly satisfying feeling while I traced the red letters in
front of me with my eyes. Red. Alricks favorite color was red.
I twisted back to glance over to the building, with sickly and healthy people constantly
bustling in and out of the front.
Porto, I gave a snap of my fingers, drawing the mutts attention to me. Stay here,
okay? Dont go far. I patted his head. I was never one to disillusion myself about
animals being able to understand my words, but I knew Porto would be able to pick
up on the signals and energy I exerted. I didnt want him to follow me, and he got
that. The added vocal command was for my own benefit.
With my filthy dog back to trying to scratch out his fleas with the help of the hospital
sign, I turned to head to the building again. I didnt take the front doors, so I could
avoid the annoying security guard, and instead headed around to the emergency
room.
The bustling of voices from both patients, bystanders, nurses and doctors hit me like a
solid wall the moment I stepped inside. Two women shoved past me with a gurney, a
child moaning restlessly on the surface. The kid shrieked when one of the women, the
one not in scrubs, reached out towards her and I turned to watch them go while she
flailed like a dying fish.
Can I help you? a mousey little voice came from behind me. I turned my head
away from the speeding gurney to glance at a little woman, as mousey in her
appearance as her voice, standing behind the front desk. There was a glass wall that

101

separated her from the rest of the mass in the room, protecting her from god knows
what.
No, I answered honestly, before I could stop myself. Perhaps being rude wasnt the
best way to get my way here, though. Well, yes, but you seem busy, I tried again.
She was put off by my first answer, but warmed up a bit to my second. Pushing the
large glasses back on the bridge of her nose, until it looked like the black frames were
about to devour her face, she gave a cough and tapped her pen against the glass.
Im free right now.
Oh, right. Well, I was looking for someone, but Im not sure where to look exactly, I
frowned. This was going to be harder than I thoughtthen again, I wasnt sure what I
was thinking to begin with.
Would they be in the emergency room?
Im not sure.
She paused, shifting her glasses pointedly on her face. Are you a family member?
Yes. I am now.
What is the patients name?
Vincenzo.
She waited, probably for me to give her the last name, but I remained silent.
What is your last name?
Oh.. um, I paused, sending my eyes fluttering over the objects in the room, hurriedly
looking for some sort of name. I noticed a gift basket shoved under one of the desks,
holding a neatly decorated variety of raisin muffins. I only guessed they were raisins
because of the Sun Maid box stuffed in one corner, with the silly brunette girl smiling
up at me. Raisin.. ora. Raisinora. But uh, I moved closer when I noticed her typing the
bullshit last name into the computer in front of her. Thats not my uncles last name.
See, we just call him Uncle Vinny, and.. Im a bit embarrassed to admit this, but I dont
know my mothers maiden name.
The women stared at me for a minute, trying to figure out if I was lying or not. I put on
my best convincing smile in hopes of leading her to the right path, but she seemed
unfazed.

102

Im sorry, she said finally.

Oh.. I sighed, letting my head drop. I guess you couldnt help me after all.
She took this as a challenge, which really ended up profiting me in the end, and
reached out to knock on the glass to grab my attention again. Like Porto reacted to
my snaps, I jerked back to face her. How was he hurt?
What?
What sort of injury did he have?
Well he was blown up by a suitcase that was really a bomb. .. has some burns. A
lot of them, actually. Freak accident, I tried. It was my best guess. How was I
supposed to know what kind of injuries he had? He was exploded.
The burn ward is on the third floor, in the main building. Go through that door and
down the hall. I suggest calling your mom for the last name, as well, she gave a quick
gesture before reaching up to adjust her glasses again.
Thanks, I waved quickly, moving out of the way of a new groaning patient that
limped into the ER with someone holding onto them from the side, helping them
balance. I didnt glance in their direction, but I caught one of them pointing
dynamically at me from the corner of my eye.
As directed, I took the hall down to the end, where I popped into the elevator and
rode it to the third floor. I tried not to think about the last time I was in an elevator as I
glanced up at the flickering numbers, watching the red numbers go up one by one.
On the third floor, the doors slid back to grant me access to the front desk.
I bypassed it as quickly as I could, so that the nurses stationed there wouldnt notice
my uninvited presence while I snuck through the corridors stretching in either direction.
The stench of medicine was suffocating; it crept into my throat like a hungry snake,
digging its venomous teeth into my flesh. Just being there made me feel sick, I wasnt
sure how even sick people stuck around for long.
Several rooms were empty, even more had people bandaged and burned up so
roughly that I didnt stick around long enough to figure out if one of them was
Vincenzo. I would have given up to go back to Porto if it wasnt for the crowd of nurses
that quickly crowded the end hall.
Please, Mr. Giordano, if we could just

103

NO DRUGS! a familiar voice boomed from an open door, followed by the clatter of
a bedpan that came flying out at the nurses. They ducked as the metal object
bounced against the white wall, spiraling backward to knock against a corner before
finally clattering to the floor.
I grinned at the obvious sign of rebellion, and the sharp voice that just hinted at an
insult. While the pack of angry women got back to their feet, I approached the end
room with the strange satisfaction that I had found him and that he wouldnt be
happy.
Excuse me, I patted the closest nurses shoulder, drawing her eyes back toward me.
May I? I signaled toward the room with the same finger I had touched her with.
Hes my uncle, I lied.
Oh, god, go ahead. Be my guest, she heaved a sigh.
I waited for the nurses to disperse, and when they disappeared in the opposite
direction, I let a nasty smirk twist my lips backward before slipping into the room.
Who the fuck are you? he snapped the moment he saw me.
He looked absolutely horrible, with half his face wrapped in some ravaged bandage
he obviously hadnt allowed anyone to change, and two splints holding his right arm
together. His right leg was completely engulfed in a cast and stretched upward with
some obscure mechanism resembling a pulley, hovering a good couple of inches
away from his bed and his other leg. Bruises and burns that werent hidden by
bandages outlined the majority of his skin where the hospital gown failed to cover him.
Even beat up and obviously restrained, he looked like a threat. He had taken most of
the damage out of all my villains, but then again I had to think about what injuries
Alrick maintained that I hadnt seen. I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth as I
thought of my own minor injuries, so feeble and pathetic compared to the others. And
yet, the blood
Vincenzo Giordano? Really? How much more Italian can you get? I smirked.
My retort instantly helped him place me, but it didnt help his mood any.
Get the fuck out, Im not in the mood for your stupid shit. Why did they even let you in
here? Nurse! NURSE!
Im pretty sure the nurses are getting sick of your stupid shit, and wont be coming to
your rescue anytime soon, I sighed, reaching out to close the door behind me just in
case. He shifted lightly in his bed when I approached him, clearly uncomfortable by
my advance. I paused a few steps away from his bed, pulling a chair in toward me,
104

and sat down parallel to his torso. I had to wonder how he got to the bedpan, or how
he threw it, while he was in such bad shape.
Get away from me you little maggot. Ill fucking kill you if you touch me.
I dont doubt it. One swing of that cast and Ill probably lose a limb then again,
doesnt look like you can reach far, I grinned.
Fucking brat. Ill show you how far I can swing! he grunted, twisting and turning in his
confinement to get at me. His face distorted with pain when he tugged on his leg, an
emotion strong enough to wrinkle his features even beneath the cover of the
bandages on his face.
Does it hurt? I breathed, my voice catching both of us off guard. I had meant for my
tone to be condescending, but it only came out with concern.
His lone eye studied me for a moment, its hidden twin shifting under the curtain of
bristled fabric against his skin as his gaze rushed across my face. His silence irritated
me, and it was the last thing I needed today, so I quickly tried to switch the mood
back to the nasty one we usually had between us.
What? Stop staring at me, you creep. And I highly suggest not letting your mind
wander, its far too small to be out on its own.
You really love pushing your luck, dont you kid?
What? I came all the way here to see you and this is the thanks I get? I scoffed in a
mocking manner.
Why the hell did you come?
I thought of you today, I paused, giving a lick to my lips before giving him one of my
biggest grins. I was passing a store that had mushrooms on sale, so I thought to
myself man! I bet Mario would just love to get some. Maybe itll help you level up.
Your jokes are getting repetitive, he twitched, trying to hold back his anger. You
running out of material?
No, I just feel bad insulting an invalid.
He roared, jerking up so violently in place that the pulley holding his leg in place gave
a sharp creaking sound as it struggled to keep his cast elevated. I jumped up at the
noise, looking first to the rope, then down to angry Italian strapped in place. Pain
glittered in his eye, but he didnt let me see it in his expression.
105

I was poking the lion in the cage with a stick, I realized, and he wasnt just snarling
back at me, he was slamming his body against the iron bars to get through to the
other side and rip my throat out. I nervously bit down on my lower lip as I settled into
the chair, trying not to wonder so much about how he had gotten so hurt.
I guess youre not that fast after all, I mumbled after a moment. He still hadnt
stopped struggling against his restraints, but when I spoke he offered a slight pause so
that he could study my face again. Did I sound concerned? Fuck.
Alrick and Mr. Pickett are fine, I continued, refusing to speak the damned monsters
first name. But you got the short end of the stick.
Are you sure about that? he said quickly, making me flinch back.
What do you mean? My voice was slow, small, peeking up from within my throat like
a scared rabbit.
Im still alive, you little shit. What do you think happened to the other people there?
Vincenzo lashed out at me with a brutal honesty I was quickly growing accustomed
to. My three villains didnt like beating around the bush, they got right to the point
without so much as trying to sugar coat anything for me.
Honestly, I hadnt stopped to think about it. The others? The chubby man with the
frantic expression and waving hands? The guards with the guns strapped alarmingly
close to their chests? Were they dead?
Oh, I whispered, the blood draining from my face.
Yeah, oh is right. Youre playing with fire, you little amateur fuck, and you dont know
how to play with the big boys. I suggest getting lost, and fast, before the shit thats
about to go down catches up with you.
I didnt do anything wrong, I said quickly.
You think that matters? You think theyll stop to think about how you didnt do
anything wrong when they point their gun at you next time? No, you stupid kid, theyre
going to blow your fucking head off.
He was freaking me out and he could see it in my eyes, probably the number one
reason he continued. All those people dying in an explosion I had narrowly escaped
from, without so much as a wink of acknowledgement for the loss of their lives in the
papers, it made me ill.

106

Whats your favorite color? I suddenly blurted, wanting to change the subject before
the thickness of blood rushed into my brain.
What? Vincenzo winced, caught off guard by my stupid question.
Your favorite color, what is it?
After a moment of hesitation, he spoke. Purple.
So youre a Wario, I instantly grinned.
He didnt find me funny, but he didnt snap back at me.
How did you find out where I was?
Alrick.
Oh, he paused, turning his head a bit to glance at the ceiling, then back toward the
end of the room where the window was hidden behind a thick curtain. He didnt turn
back to look at me, and he didnt talk. The skin-peeling silence ensued, momentarily
allowing my brain to wander back to the film that ticked so furiously in my brain, going
through each frame at lightning speed.
So why do Italians hate Johavahs Witnesses? I spat quickly to shatter the silence,
zinging my brain back to the here and now.
Wario turned his damaged face back toward me, a prominent frown on his face. The
lone eye studied me again, and he must have seen the desperation in my face
because he finally decided to humor me. I dont know, because theyre fucking
annoying?
Because Italians hate all witness, I exhaled sharply, reeling my brain back into place.
My delivery of the punch line was horrible, but I somehow managed to spur a light
chuckle from his lips.
So true, he gave a small, lazy grin, one I couldnt help but mirror.
Oh god, were we having a bonding moment?
Vincenzo and I seemed to realize it at the same time, because he stopped smiling as
soon as I did. I jerked up out of the seat I had nestled into, choosing to storm across the
room just so I had something to do. He rustled uncomfortably behind me while I
reached out to grab one of the curtains and jerk it out of the way.

107

The orange sky beyond the large window frame was a tantalizing sight to see. I
marveled at the perfection of the yellow, red, and blue melting together into a deep
purple that hinted at the approach of night.
You look tired, Wario grunted.
You look like shit, I mumbled, not taking my eyes off the clear sky.
Im not the one with a shit haircut.
At least I can actually get it cut. You have to get an oil change.
That one wasnt even funny.
Ill try harder.
Dont pity me.
I flinched at his comment, my body giving an involuntarily shiver of its own before I
looked back to his dark, sunken eye watching me again. Im not I gulped, feeling
the lump grow in my throat.
What gave me away? Could he really see the guilt I felt? I knew the answer the
moment he turned away from me, using his good hand to pound down on a button
beside his head. It buzzed loudly, an obnoxious, shrill sound that continued until the
door to his room opened.
Nurse, can you throw this little shit out of my room? Im tired of looking at him.
Ill leave if you take the drugs, I blurted quickly, just as the nurse turned to glance at
me.
No, he said immediately, seething in my direction.
Then I guess youre stuck with me, Uncle Vinny, I barked.
He took a moment to stare at me, sizing me up, wondering if I was as crazy as I liked
people to think I was. He seemed to agree that I was, because he turned to the nurse
with a sigh. Give me the fucking drugs.
Somehow, winning didnt feel as good as it should have. He didnt look back at me,
and I didnt linger to rub my achievement in his face. While the slightly cautious nurse
approached her patient, I slid away from the window to head towards the door.

108

Hey kid, he called, freezing me in the doorway.

Yeah? I turned to glance over my shoulder, working another smile onto my lips.
Whats your name?
Oh, my lips parted with my exhale of oxygen. It was such a simple, easy question,
but it completely shattered my mood. Im just another nameless Goomba in the
Koopa Troop, I tried to keep my smile, but the energy just wasnt available. There was
a spark of shock on his face at my answer, one I might have lingered to exploit if I had
the stomach to look at him any longer.
I dont know why I had chosen a Goomba, of all the monsters in the Mario games, but
it somehow seemed to fit. I left Vincenzo grumbling in his room to his nurse while I
headed back down to the first floor, using the stairs this time.
I didnt bother taking the emergency room exit, I walked right out the front doors and
made sure the abhorrent, useless security guard saw me. He gasped when I strolled
past him, but as expected, did nothing.
Porto! I called the moment I was out by the front sign again. My mutt came running
out from a mess of bushes, charging right into my legs and rolling onto his side on the
dirty ground at the moment of impact.
I snickered at his mindless happiness as I kneeled down to run my fingers through his
fur, down the length of his torso, toward his slightly curled tail. It was then that I
remembered the wallet in my jackets pocket as it rubbed against my stomach, the
one I had intended to give back. I should have given it to Vincenzo, so he could return
it to his boss for me. Ugh, but I was too busy feeling sorry for him to think ahead.
Maybe I really am tired, I sighed to myself, giving another pat to Portos head.
Yes, you look tired, an unexpected voice answered.
I jumped, my nervousness sending my dog into a barking frenzy. I had to grab at his
bandana to pull him back away from the two men hovering over me, neither one of
which looked very happy at being out at a hospital on a Friday night.
Did we frighten you? Im terribly sorry, the same one spoke. It was the man on the
right, a short brunette with a fat face resembling a pig. He wiggled the thick mustache
beneath his nose as he furrowed his bushy eyebrows at me. He didnt look sorry.

109

What do you want? I grumbled, wrapping one of my hands around my mutts maw
to keep his jaws from snapping like a hungry alligator. He whimpered at my touch, but
gradually gave in when I refused to let go.
May we have a moment of your time? he tried to smile, but I could barely see the
effort in the dim glow of the hospital sign and under the thick cover of his facial hair.
No, I snapped loudly. So what, Asher had sent two more goons to bother me now
that his first two were out of commission? And why the fuck did they keep coming in
pairs? And spewing the same lines? They probably all went to the same brainwashing
academy where they had to repeat Asher Pickett is a good man until their brain cells
died.
I assure you, itll be in your best interest if you come with us, the fat man spoke. Was
that a threat?
I dont tend to do things in my best interest. It was true, but that was beyond the
point. I wasnt going to play another Cat and Mouse game, especially if it was a
second-hand game with the King never coming into play.
Yes, thats become steadily apparent to us, the second one spoke, his voice
somehow a darker shade than his friends. He reached down to ruffle in his jacket as
Porto and I both tensed up, getting ready to dart behind the sign if any weapons were
pulled out towards us.
The object was blunt enough to be a gun, but much too small and stubby. He flipped
it out, letting the surface glitter with the fading light of the sun as he pointed it in my
direction. FBI, he announced, in case I couldnt read.
I didnt do anything, I quickly fired. It was only understandable that the police were
going to catch up with me? Wait, no, no, that didnt make sense. What do you
want? I added immediately.
We should discuss this in a less... public area, dont you agree? the chubby man
spoke again. His pig resemblance suddenly had a whole different meaning.
No, I dont agree. Frankly I want to be around as many people as I can. You know,
witnesses, I leered.
The second man, a redhead from what I could see, tucked his badge away and gave
me a slight chuckle. Nodding toward his partner, he moved to stride past me in his
clich trench coat to the sidewalk. Of course, if that makes you more comfortable.
There is a diner a few blocks away from here.
110

My heart sped up.

The Coffee shop is closer, I hastily offered, wanting to lead them away from Anna
and Zack. Far, far away.
With Porto at my side, I moved to lead them in the opposite direction, to a coffee shop
a couple of streets down. I expected them to offer to shorten the trip with a car ride, or
snap at me for taking them such a long distance, but they remained frighteningly silent
behind me.
At the shop, I left Porto lingering outside while I moved into the warmth of the building
with all the entitled goodness of coffee beans floating in the air. I resisted the urge to
spend the money burning a hole in my pocket, the money that wasnt mine, and
moved over to an empty booth against the window.
Okay, so what? What do you want? I huffed before they even had a chance to sit
down.
Would you like a coffee? the redhead peered up at me, narrowing his gaze in my
direction.
No, I lied, giving a lick to my lower lip. I would like you to tell me what you want,
considering that I havent done anything wrong within the past couple of weeks,
that would warrant the utmost attention of such busy, intelligent people, I droned.
They knew I was annoyed with them, and I highly doubted that they held it against
me.
Aright, the fat one said, exchanging a look with his partner. Right to business, then.
As he spoke, he thrust one hand into the pocket of his jacket, fishing out a bulky,
yellow envelope. He flattened the wrinkled edges out against the hard surface of the
table before sliding it over to me.
I hardly had any real energy left to play along, but then that was precisely why I
reached out to grab the envelope; I didnt want to prolong this meeting any more
than I had to, and the sooner I got rid of the cops, the sooner I could go find a warm
corner to sleep in.
My fingers impatiently tore back the lid of the envelope, shredding the barrier so that I
could reach inside. The smooth surface I came to next sent a prickle of pins and
needles up my arm, to my elbow, where the limb instinctively jerked to the side just as I
wrapped my grip around the mass inside. The pictures fell out in one easy stack onto
the tabletop.

111

I caught my own reflection in the shiny surface of the napkin container when I tilted
my head down to look at the photographs, and I instantly paused. So that was why
people kept asking if I was tired. My eyes were completely bloodshot.
What is this? I grabbed at the photos, flipping through them one by one with
increasing aggravation. There were several of Alrick picking me up from Ashers house,
about half a dozen with my back and Zacks grinning face from the diner, and a
couple of me standing in front of Vincenzos hospital. Youve been following me? I
gaped.
I barely had enough time to wonder how they printed the photographs out so quickly
when the pig-faced one snatched one picture out from the pile to twist it in my
direction. Do you know this man?
Is this a joke? I barely glanced at the photograph, I recognized the sandy hair and
fainted color of the eyes immediately.
Im afraid not. This is a very serious matter. Youve been seen fraternizing with this
bunch, he signaled to the pictures, And so youve been brought to our attention. Do
you know anything of an incident off the west coast?
Fraternizing? My fingers tightened on the picture of Zack I was holding as I tried once
again to swallow the rising lump in my throat. The screeching, booming sound of the
explosion echoed somewhere in my back of my head, and I struggled with my breath
as I brought my eyes up to the two strangers sitting across from me. No.
I see, the redhead frowned at me, clearly not willing to accept my answer.
Look kid, Ill level with you, the man with the mustache suddenly leaned forward,
dropping his tone into a much more friendly one. It sounded awfully practiced, he
probably always ended up playing the good cop. This is a bad man, a very bad
man, he repeated. Jesus, did he think I was slow? Now we have a lot on him, just not
enough to bring him in. This is where you come i
Absolutely not, I slammed both hands on the table, startling a few people sitting
around us. With my palms on the pictures, I slid them back across to the cops. I want
nothing to do with this. Not now, not ever. Absolutely not.
But
Nope, no way. Would you excuse me now? I have suddenly, and quite unexpectedly
lost my ability to understand English. Thank you for your visit, please dont come
again, my voice came out in a filthy fit of rage as I stood up to leave.

112

Sit down! the redhead roared, playing his bad cop role to the T by grabbing my arm
and hauling me back into the seat.
Dont be stupid kid, the good cop continued, You can help a lot of people here,
save a lot of lives. We get Asher Pickett off the streets and viola, the world is that much
better. You get me?
Yeah, I get you, you filthy fuck. You want me to stick my neck out because your
useless bunch of incompetent suckers that think theyre actually making a difference
in the world dont have plausible evidence on precious Mr. Prickett. I get it. But why
the fuck do I care? I pulled my arm away from the redhead in one swift, harsh
movement. My visit with broken Vincenzo and smiling Alrick might have momentarily
mellowed me out with the constant taste of death around them, but I was back now.
Oooh, I was back.
Listen here
No, you listen to me. I dont even know the guy. I met him once, maybe twice. Hes
permanently out of my life now and I want to keep it that way. You get me? I
retorted. Again, I stood up to leave, and the redhead didnt try to grab me this time;
instead he reached out to seize a picture of Zack and Anna from the table, dragging
it back toward him.
I paused at the edge of the table as he looked over the pictures, a very bad move on
my part. He caught my hesitation, and grinned as he peered back up at me. Such a
shame, he began, his sticky tone making my stomach drop. They seem like such a
lovely couple, I wonder
You stay the fuck away from them, I snapped, throwing one hand out to snatch the
picture out of his hands.
Cooperate and theyll never even know we exist, the good cop piped up.
A tremor rocked down my body, tingling in the back of my knees. I flopped back to
the empty side of the booth, Zack and Anna tightly clutched in my hands. Were they
threatening them? Could FBI do that? Strange, I had expected it from Asher, not the
cops, but apparently the villain had better taste in tactics in this story.
We could give them a lot of trouble. Maybe shut down the diner for a couple of
months. What do you think that would do to their business? One false charge, one little
mistake and their reputation could be completely ruined, the bad cop continued,
grasping at straws. He didnt know what he could use against me, but when it came
to that couple, he could have said anything.

113

I cant help you. I dont know anything, I growled, trying my hardest to keep my
temper under control.
Fine, then you can figure something out. You seem like a smart boy. And his men look
like theyre cozying up to you, he jutted one hand out at the pictures in front of him. I
didnt look at which one, I focused instead on the thin red hairs on the back of his
knuckle as my head began to spin.
Youre wrong. I told you, Im done with him. Ill never see him again.
I wouldnt be so sure about that, the good cop mumbled. I tore my eyes away from
his partners finger to glance up at his pig-like face, his flat nose and overly large
nostrils. His gaze was turned away from me, out towards the window. Quivers of
anticipation ran down my spine as I tentatively convinced my neck to let my head
move, then my eyes to follow the direction of my head. Drip, drip.
I think its time for us to go, the redhead announced loudly. The two men quickly
gathered up the pictures, stuffed them back into the envelope, and removed
themselves from the booth as I continued to stare out of the window.
There he was, the growing bane of my existence, leaning casually against the exterior
of his sleek black car with one hand in the pocket of his tawny coat and the other
holding his phone against his ear. He stared unblinking at me through the thin glass of
the coffee shop that separated us, his expression as cold and controlled as always.
Ladies and gentlemen; Asher Pickett.

114

Yes, Miss Anna. Ive found him. Thank you for calling me, Asher spoke softly into his
phone. The only reason I heard him was because I ran out right behind the cops the
moment I heard the door open.
What are you doing here? I panted, moving right up to the side of his car.
He looked past me, ignoring my existence to glance at the two cops still lingering by
the coffee shop. Agent Montero, Agent Ruddy, he gave each man a nod,
acknowledging them.
I turned to glance back at the two cops in a strange daze. It might have been just me
watching too many movies when I was a kid, but werent they supposed to run off
and not be noticed? Instead, they continued watching us from their post by the door,
their faces fixed into the most convincing poker masks.
Pickett, the redhead spoke slowly, his lips forming the word with all the disdain he
could muster. I watched as his eyes snapped down to me, transferring some of the
hate he felt for the suited man at my side straight to me. The tension between them
could be cut with a knife, a very, very dull knifeexcept that Asher didnt look like he
cared. Not that his expression was any different than usual, but if the cops that were
after me were standing just inches away, I know I would feel a little nervous. In fact, I
already felt nervous.
Car, Asher barked, drawing my attention back to him. For a moment, I thought he
was calling someone, someone named Carr, but his gaze told me different. The sharp
snake eyes stabbed into the frontal cortex of my brain, spearing a triton right into the
helpless, mushy surface. It was a command, he was telling me to get into the car.
But Porto, I wheezed, the only two words I could push out from my lips without
drawing in more breath. If I looked away now, or made any sudden movements, a tiny
voice told me that the snake would strike me down.

115

My crazy mutt reacted to the sound of his name, pouncing over on his giant paws to
return to my side. He buried his snout into the palm of my bare hand, faintly reminding
me where I was with the harsh coldness of his wet nose. Porto whimpered when I
didnt look down at him, or pat his head, a high-pitched sound that intrigued Asher
enough to convince him to break his eye contact with me.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I could blink again. Every time he looked at me like
that, I felt like I was under a very strong drug, sinking lower and lower into oblivion the
longer he kept the connection. That drug should be illegal, I decided.
I dont like dogs, he stated clearly, his voice oddly leveled. He can sit in the trunk.
My mind spooled out of control at his comment, pushing away every inch of fear,
worry and guilt to make room for the burst of anger that shot through me like a bullet.
My dog? My precious dog, in the trunk? I grinded my teeth together as I wrapped my
hand across Portos muzzle, jerking his skull protectively close to my thigh. No.
Asher looked up at me, his cold stare as intimidating as ever, but I was ready for it this
time. I wasnt going to leave Porto behind again, especially with the cops around, and
I downright refused to let anything bad happen to him. He was my dog, the only thing
I really owned now, the only thing I had any sort of claim to. I dug my fingers down
stubbornly into his thick scruff as he rubbed his face against my knee, working out his
itch against the rough surface of my jeans.
The front seat, then? he spoke after a few awkward moments, when I didnt back
down. I would have thought he was mocking me if he gave me a smile, a wink,
anything, but his expression was dead. Just as I opened my mouth to ask if he was
serious, he gracefully removed himself from leaning on the car and stepped aside to
open the back door.
Porto ran in before I could stop him; the comfortable seats in the back of the car were
too much for him to resist. I gave a quick glance to the two glaring men behind me
before I slid in to join my dog.
Gentlemen, Asher regarded the men with the utmost amount of respect. With one
quick swing of his arm, the door closed behind me, officially trapping me in the
dreadful deathtrap.
I reached out to grab onto Porto and pull him close, forcing his head into my lap as I
selfishly leaned onto his body. Clueless of the impending danger, he wagged his tail
excitedly in my face while hunching his lithe form over into a playful crouch. I was the
one that yelped when the engine purred to life and the car kicked into gear, rolling
out of its parked position with a noticeable lack of grace I didnt expect from the cool,
collected Mr. Pickett. And Porto? He couldnt have cared less, but the position I had
116

bent him into couldnt have been comfortable. When the car settled into a constant
speed, I released him, allowing the mutt to scramble to the opposite window where he
could watch the funny looking trees whizz by.
Ashers face wasnt visible from my position in the back, but I didnt need to see his
expression or his eyes to know that he wasnt happy with me; first of all, why would he
be? I had just been caught fraternizing with the police, who were apparently out to
get him, and second of all, I could see the slight tremble in his hands as they gripped
at the steering wheel. He was going to kill me.
I didnt tell them anything, I tried to soothe him. If he was worried that I had informed
the police about the explosion and how crazy the supposed businessman really was,
he was wasting his energy and my time.
I know. He sounded so sure of himself again.
How could you possibly know that? I growled, put off by his confidence.
He ignored me, sparing whatever twisted answer he had to give me. I would have
been mad, but a part of me said that he was really doing me a favor. His fucked up
logic was bound to drive me insane. Bringing both of my hands up, I wrapped my grip
around my torso as I threw my back against the seat with nothing better to do than
pout silently.
We werent on the road for long, to my surprise. I thought he would either take me
back to Annas Diner, or his own lifeless house, but we went deeper into the city,
towards one of the freeways that bridged across patches of deserted land. I had a
feeling he took a few more turns than necessary on the way, in case someone was
following him.
What are we doing here? I sat up, leaning against my door as I turned towards the
window to stare out into the impending darkness. The scarce streetlights here left
much to the imagination, each one forming a limited circle around the long stretches
of metal that sank into the ground. I noticed the outline of a person standing just
outside of that line, close enough for me to know it was human but far enough to
make me second guess myself.
What are we I was about to repeat myself, but when I turned to the front of the
car I found Asher staring straight at me. In a mindless, nervous manner I stretched my
tongue from behind my lips to wet the surface as I swallowed my words.
Dont do that, he said quickly, his harsh tone causing me to flinch back.

117

Sorry, I said immediately. I didnt know what I had done or what I wasnt supposed
to do again, but the insistent tone he carried made me feel obligated to agree and
apologize.
Of course, I regretted it the moment I realized what I had said. Before I could redeem
myself Asher had turned to push his door open and step out of the car. Stay here, he
ordered.
Well that was anticlimactic. What, he wasnt going to yell at me for anything? He
wasnt going to bitch about how I hadnt tied my shoelaces and now they were all
dirty and torn? Wasnt he even going to comment on how dirty my dog was? I glared
at him while he made his way around the side of the car, approaching the faint
outline in the near distance. When he stepped into the light, so did the second body,
who I easily recognized to be Alrick.
They spoke by the post, calmly at first, but something Asher said must have ticked
Alrick off because he suddenly got really animated. Both men turned to face the car I
was trapped in, and while Asher just stared, Alrick began gesturing again. There was
no way this situation was going to end up benefiting anyone. Just as I was about to let
myself out of the car, the two began approaching me.
Theres no time for this, Alrick growled when he jerked my door open. Listen to me
kid, youre going to take this money, he paused a moment to fetch a wad of bills
from his pocket, And youre going to get a taxi to take you back home, alright?
What? was all I could say. I had no idea what was happening.
You shouldnt be here. Ill explain later. Now get going, he rushed me with his words,
and when I didnt immediately move into action, he rushed me with his hands. Both of
the larger limbs grabbed onto my shoulders, practically picking me up off the seat in
the back to replace me on the cement. Porto leapt down to join me just before Alrick
slammed the back door shut. Go, he said again, thrusting the money into my hand.
I hesitated long enough to glance at Asher, who refused to let anything away with his
expression, but Alrick didnt let me ask any more questions. He reached out to push at
my body, nudging me away from them.
Go! Go now! he ordered, shooing me away like some stray dog. I couldnt even be
angry with him, not when I was so confused and he looked so determined to distance
me from the area. I nodded wearily towards them while I reached down for Portos
bandana to lead my dog away with me.
We ventured out into the darkness, just the two of us once again. Gradually the light
from the lamps behind us faded, leaving nothing but the growing ray of moonlight
118

that beat down on my back just as intensely as the sun. The sidewalk we were on gave
away into the pavement with an abrupt crack that suggested someone hadnt
finished building the ground to actually be solid. I held my mutt close to my side as I
turned to cross what little I could see of the street, over to another streetlight a good
few feet away. To get to it, I would have to cross a patch of complete darkness
beneath the cover of a strangely slanted building that looked like it would topple over
at any given moment.
It wasnt a big risk, no one was around that I could see, and I was by no means afraid
of the dark. Plus, I had Porto beside me. So I kept my grip on his bandana as I stepped
over the last bit of curb and immediately merged into a quick stride down the length
of the street. We were just about to break into the moonlight again when a dense
popping sound came from behind us. The sound was far enough not to frighten me,
but my dog broke into another barking frenzy.
Porto, sto I turned to scold him, but he wasnt there.
The empty bandana was the only thing I was holding now, a useless piece of cloth
that fluttered pointlessly against the cold night air. I was absolutely mortified at his
missing presence, but in the patch of darkness, I couldnt see where he had gone. It
took my brain a few seconds to tell me to listen instead of look. Spinning around, I
turned to the direction of his barking as I raced after him.
Porto! PORTO COME BACK! I screamed helplessly, trying to follow the dirty mutt as he
darted in and out of the limited light available to my eyes. The freshly cut strands of
black smacked into my cheeks, stabbing into my flushed skin with my whole body
chasing the most important thing in the world to me. I couldnt let him get lost, not
here, and what if he got hurt? What if there was a ditch? A curb? A crazy
dogcatcher?
Was I really worrying about dogcatchers?
The same popping sound echoed again, sharper now, closer. It wasnt one I
recognized, not one I worried about, but Porto was running straight to it. He barked all
the way down the street, to the set of streetlights Asher had previously brought me to;
except that the scene looked much different than when I left it. There were five cars
parked there now, not one, and no people in sight.
I finally caught up to my mutt, and in a frightened frenzy I grabbed onto his head to
pull him back the way we came. He whimpered at my action, a pained hum that
immediately swayed me to release him.
Come on, you stupid mutt, we need to get out of here, I hissed, fumbling with the
bandana still in my hand to unwind it so I could wrap it around his neck again. He
119

huffed quietly while my shaking hands wound the cloth around his neck, his lean snout
pointed away from me, to the right.
The sound of footsteps was enough to send me on high alert, but at that moment
Porto started to growl. Shards of icy horror stabbed into my fingers, my arms, against
the back of my elbows that sent ripples of shivers down my back. I tightened my grip
on my dog as I cautiously turned to the person he was gradually snarling at.
It was a woman, clad in overall black attire, with a navy blue short jacket that hugged
her bosom. She stood with one hip cocked in my direction, her right hand in her
pocket and the left holding a very visible gun. Not that I know much about guns, but
that was a big gun.
S-sorry my dog you know how dogs get crazy well just get out of your way, I
stuttered, swallowing thickly as I began to pull Porto away with me. I didnt do gunsif
there was a gun around, I was going to get as far away from it as I could. Never had I
lied to myself about being brave, and I wasnt about to start now.
Tsk, she clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth, and let it linger there as
she parted her lips. I saw the pierced organ extend, flashing its plain bulb at me
before disappearing back into the dark cave. It looked like she was going to let me
go, though, she probably thought I was just a stupid kid in the wrong place at the
wrong timeand technically, I was.
We continued to back away from her, well, I did, Porto fought me every step of the
way, but I managed to drag him back by his scruff so that he didnt lunge at the
woman. His teeth were no match for her gun, and my skin was no match for her bullet.
She watched me go, looking rather bored. My appearance was not important, and I
wasnt on her hit list that day, so she found no reason to waste a bullet on me. Thank
god. I cursed Porto under my breath as I tried to control him, a very difficult action
without a real collar or a leash. Any minute now the knot of the bandana could give
away again, freeing my crazy dog to go and run to his death.
A door burst open to my left, catching both my attention and the mysterious womans.
Two men walked out, straight to the woman with one of them holding a small
envelope that he handed to her. She must have mentioned something about me,
because they both brought their eyes up to glance in my direction. I froze reluctantly
on the corner of the street, with my stupid dog growling like a rabid hound in front of
me.
Another popping sound came, much louder and clearer than the last two, from the
building the two men had exited. They were as caught off guard by the sound as I
was, but they freaked out before me. The woman cursed, hiking her gun up against
120

her hip as she ran into the open door, followed by one of the men. The other one
turned to glance at me again.
Shit.
I jerked hard on Porto, hard enough to make him whimper again, but this time I didnt
release him. I didnt want to get caught up in another one of Ashers special deals, so I
ran for my life. My barking mutt didnt let up for even a second, his body constantly
twisting and turning to get back to the little party behind us that we werent officially
invited to. He was braver than me that was for sure.
Footsteps ascended on me in a rapid exertion of effort. He was gaining on me, and he
didnt have a counter weight pulling against him. I knew that if I let go of Porto, I could
have gotten away. My heart screamed no while my brain tried to convince me to let
go of the bandana, that he would be okay, he was a smart dog.
Something crashed into me before I could make any official decisions. I released the
cloth in my hand on my way down, straight to the black pavement I could barely
seebut I felt it, every uneven edge, sharp rock and awkward rim stabbed into the
palms of my hands and past my jeans, into my knees, when I moved to catch myself. I
tried not to think of the stinging in my skin as I scrambled up to my feet, searching for
the assailant and my mutt.
A sharp blow to my ankles swept my feet out from under me, sending me to the floor
with the abrupt roar of an engine in the distance. Porto barked like a madman as he
lunged at the faceless man hovering over me, and with the very human howl that
came next I knew my dog had gotten a good grip. Cloth shred, something cracked,
the man screamed again and suddenly there was fur rubbing against my face. I
reached out to pet at Porto while I pushed myself out of the shadows, into the
moonlight just a few inches away from me.
The man followed me, panting, his expression twisted into one of uncontrolled rage. His
sleeve was completely torn from what I could see, and there was blood trickling down
the side of his face, mirroring the few drops just beneath his nose. His arm hung limp at
his side, not twisted or awkward, just limp. Had Porto popped it out of its socket?
You filthy mutt, Im going to fucking kill you, he snarled with understandable rage. I
would be pissed too, if I were in his shoes, but I didnt know who he was talking to; me
or the dog?
Either way, it wasnt going to happen. No way was I going to let him lay a hand on my
dog and I valued my life enough to try to protect it. Again I grabbed onto the
bandana clinging onto the dirty fur to jerk at it, to lead my dog away. As I moved to

121

run, the man lunged, and Porto countered. They met in midair, and this time I could
see what happened.
The stranger dug his hand into the side of Portos head, pulling up on his lower jaw with
his fingers painfully stabbing into the soft skin beneath his mouth. In turn, my dog sank
his teeth into the mans calf, locking his jowls together in place before he started to
violently swing his head back and forth. Mortified, I could do nothing but stand there
like a useless idiot while my angry dog tore at the mans flesh and the man released his
jaw to punch at his head.
NO! I bellowed, horrified at the violent action that had my dog whining like a
neglected puppy. Without thinking, I picked up the largest rock I could find and
chucked it at the mans head. It missed the mark, nicking him on the shoulder before
bouncing straight to the floor, but it startled him enough to loosen his grip on Porto. My
frightened dog immediately looked to me for instruction, looking dazed and confused
from the sharp blow to his head. RUN PORTO! RUN! I charged forward, attempting to
scare him off.
He listened to me, to my cracking voice, my frantic, panicky voice, and he turned to
run in the opposite direction. Just as the assaulting man swirled back toward me, I
broke off into a run to follow my pet down the street.
I never saw it coming. The car turned the corner so sharply that Porto and I never even
had the chance to blink. I had been so freaked out by the man hunting me that I
hadnt even heard the loud deathtrap approaching. The driver smashed down on the
brakes, releasing an incisive scratching sound that broke through the silence of the
deserted neighborhood as the car slid forward. It swerved to the left, skidded right,
and plowed right into my dog.
My world shattered.
All oxygen left my lungs with the sharp yelp that filled the air, but my legs refused to
stop running. I knocked into the car at the same speed, whirled backward, and spun
once before hitting my knees. His beautiful coat was horribly ruined by a gash that ran
from his shoulder to just below his arms, his little shaking arms. My hands darted out to
comfort him before my brain could register the pooling blood, petting at his head, his
side, his legs. Every time I made contact with his body he released a sound that
stabbed relentlessly at my heart.
Nothing around me mattered anymore. I kept my sole attention on him, on his little
wincing face, his pretty chocolate eyes disappearing behind his eyelids every time he
blinked. In the blare of the headlights, I could make out every other part of his body
where the skin and fur had been scraped away by the front bumper of the car. He
had saved me, he was my best friend, my only friend, and I had led him to such
122

agony. Did it hurt? I wanted to know, I wanted him to tell me how to make it better.
How could I ask him? Every part of me was shaking; I couldnt breathe, I couldnt think
straight, all I saw was the blood on his fur, the blood on my hands.
Muffin, a voice whispered gently in my ear, reeling me back to earth. I shuddered at
the heat against my skin, but that temperature was nothing compared to the warm
blood on my hands. Oh god, there was so much blood.
GOD DAMNIT ASH! HES GETTING AWAY! someone else screamed, darting past me
with heavy, persistent footsteps.
Muffin, the voice repeated, more insistent this time. I couldnt place whom it
belonged to; my brain wouldnt let me, it kept screaming at me to save the pained
mutt lying motionless in front of me. I kept mindlessly petting him, smearing his own
coat with his blood, rubbing more onto my hands every time I went around the
wound. I wanted to comfort him, I wanted to tell him everything would be okay, but I
couldnt even convince myself.
Another hand entered my tunnel vision, going under my mechanical petting to gently
feel against Portos chest, down towards his heart. The same hand bent upward to
grab onto my wrist, jerking it away before I could pet at the little twitching paws again.
Muffin, his ribcage is broken. Hes not going to make it, it spoke again, calm and
collected in my ear. How could it be so calm? Didnt it care? Didnt the voice care? I
felt downright hysterical. Porto looked up at me, his little brown eyes searching for me,
and I threw my hands out to touch him again. Only one made contact with the fur,
but even that one was pulled away. I didnt know by what, I didnt know why I
couldnt move my hands. I couldnt see anything except my precious dog, my poor
sweet Porto. Muffin, can you hear me? No, no, I couldnt. I didnt want to hear the
careless voice, I didnt want to hear what it had to say. Hes in pain, Muffin. Oh god,
I knew that. Didnt the voice think that I knew that? Porto was whimpering again, the
shrill reverberation piercing not only the air but also straight into my chest.
A strong grip closed down on my chin, forcing my neck to turn without my permission.
Finally, my gaze was off of the suffering animal in front of me, and onto the reflective
surface of grey eyes that coldly looked down at me. Breathe, the voice
commanded.
I exhaled, only then realizing that I had been holding my breath this entire time. I slowly
came to acknowledge his hands on my wrists, holding them both in front of me with
my bloody palms turned upward. I wanted to vomit at the very sight of it, and I might
have even passed out if I wasnt so intent on getting back to my aching mutt. He
needed me, I had to go back to him.

123

Switching his grip, so that one of his hands snaked around my back and pressed my
hands and my body against his chest, Asher reached down with his other hand to
snatch something from the ground. I didnt need to look to see what he had picked
up; I heard the gun go off half a second later.
NO! I wailed, throwing my weight toward my precious pup, but Asher only pulled me
closer. NO! NO! YOU HEARTLESS FUCK! YOU KILLED MY DOG! YOU KILLED MY FUCKING
DOG! I screamed mercilessly, unable to control myself. Porto was everything to me,
he was the only thing for me, and I would have died for him. Instead, he died for me.
Shh, he cooed, like he was talking to a small child, but I didnt stop screaming. His
other hand tucked his gun away before he reached down to grab onto my legs, using
his entire body to effortlessly pick me up off the ground. I finally saw the unfamiliar car
beyond the headlights; both front doors open, the front window cracked, no one
inside. When Asher turned, I momentarily caught a glimpse of my broken puppy
bleeding quietly on the pavement.
Was my face wet?
Surprisingly, even with so much blood on me, I didnt faint. I was in a state of shock,
completely out of my mind. Every now and then I forgot how to breathe, but Asher
consistently reminded me. He pressed his hand against my chest, told me to exhale,
and taught me how to inhale again. I couldnt think, so I listened to what he said and
let him guide me. I was so far gone that I didnt even know I was in the car until Asher
helped me step out of it.
My vision blurred past the front door, meshing all the colors, shapes and outlines
together into one big haze. I wasnt strong enough for this, it didnt matter how I
looked at the situation. I was pathetic, weak, and I was breaking apart.
Asher led me upstairs with his hands on my shoulders, turning my body deliberately so I
would head straight to the bathroom. The colors smashed together again, sinking into
an endless swirl of black, blue, grey. His hands were firm when they migrated to my
wrists, leading them down beneath the newly opened faucet to let the water wash
the thick, ugly blood off. I gasped at the cold contrast, and involuntarily my fingers
curled in. I wanted to hold onto the blood, to the last thing I had of my mutt.
Like he could read my mind, Asher thrust his hands down under the water with me,
running his fingers across my palm to work the moisture off of my skin. He didnt care,
with every touch he gave me I knew he didnt care. Porto was just a stupid dog to
him, a useless animal.
Cold air stroked my skin, against the back of my neck, my shoulders, and my stomach.
I blinked, and the next thing I knew I was being stripped of my clothes. One by one he
124

pulled my shoes off, edged my pants down my legs, and removed every inch of
clothing I had on my body with my precious Portos blood on it. I trembled the entire
time, my mind in a constant blur; red, blue, green, purple red, so much red so
much blood. His whimpers were echoing in my ears, beating like wild apes against my
eardrums.
The rush of water on my head momentarily snapped me out of my daze. When did I
get into the shower? Did I turn the water on? Ugh, I hated water. But my mind was still
in fragments, sending me in and out of memories I had hoped to keep suppressed for
years. I saw the car, swerving, skidding, I heard the horn blast in my ears, I felt the
blood on my hands again, my throat. There was salt water in my mouth, someone
screamed my name and I went under. Who was that? Asher? Porto? Mom?
And then there was a strange sensation, warmth against my mouth. It wasnt just
warm; it was hot, hotter than Portos blood on my hands, hotter than the water
rhythmically beating against my skull from the showerhead. It pulled me back down
from the haze of thick smoke I was suffocating myself in, back to planet earth.
Welcome back, Asher whispered when he saw the clarity in my eyes.
What are you doing? I gasped, still able to feel the lingering impression of his lips
against mine.
Taking advantage of you, he said in all his seriousness, without the slightest hint of a
smile. He was standing under the flow of water with me, except that he was wearing
his clothes, tawny coat and all. There was an inhuman way to the way he stood, his
hands at his sides, fingers curled in toward his thighs.
Youre a cruel fuck, you know that? I practically sobbed. How could he play games
with me now, when I felt so utterly devastated? He was so heartless.
When he did nothing but stare at me, I moved to slide past him and out the glass
cubicle called a shower. I wanted to get away from him. It should have been no
surprise that I blamed him for my dogs demise, after all he was the one that had
driven me out to the middle of nowhere. If he had just left me at the coffee shop
then what? What would have the cops done to me? It didnt matter, my dog would
still be alive.
Ashers hand suddenly lurched upward, his coats sleeve clinging heavily to his arm as
it stretched out in the form of a flesh barrier in front of me. I paused momentarily, then
turned to make my way around him from the other side. His other arm moved up,
immediately boxing me in with both hands flattened against the shower wall behind
my head. I didnt realize until that moment that I was holding my own hands in front of
me, palms turned upward, like they were still somehow dirty with sin.
125

I nervously licked my lips.

I told you not to do that, he hissed, his tone rigid. His entire body tensed up, and his
eyes snapped down to my mouth.
Do what? My throat and mouth felt dry, regardless of the warm water soaking me. It
wasnt until I stretched my tongue out once again, dragging it across the surface of
both lips to steal some moisture for the inside of my mouth, that I understood what he
had meant all along. Oh.
Yeah, oh is right, Vincenzo scoffed in the back of my head.
Ashers hands instantly snapped inward, flying off the wall to lock on either side of my
face. He yanked my head up, lining it up with his own before he leaned down against
me. Any distance we had between us instantly deteriorated when he slanted his entire
weight down against my body, flattening me up to the hard surface. I yelped against
the caress of his lips, but that was all I could do. His vice grip on my head didnt let me
pull away, his large frame was suffocating me, rendering me helpless in the back of
the shower.
Oh fuck, I was naked.
I couldnt have cared less before, he had already seen my scars and that was the
main thing I wanted to hide from himbut now it was different. It was no longer about
embarrassment or secrets, I recognized the dangerous territory but I didnt know how
to get out of it in one piece, especially since I was already in pieces. Every thing else
he had done in the past I could have looked at as teasing, as a joke, a very cruel joke,
but what he was doing now was so far beyond my own personal mental barriers that I
couldnt even pretend to not know what was happening.
And I didnt care. His lips felt so warm, so soft against mine, they molded perfectly
around my mouth, milking my gasps out from within. Both sets of fingers ran through my
wet, clumpy hair like they were caressing the most precious treasure in the world, and
what they gave in gentleness then they took away the moment they reached the
back of my neck. His grip dug into my skin possessively, sending tingles of pain down
my spine that instantly had the thin hairs on my scruff standing on end. One of his
hands slid down, over my shoulder, down across my arm and straight to my hip. I jolted
upward when his smooth touch rounded over the bone, back to the curve of my ass.
Stop, I wailed, breaking the kiss by jerking my head to the side. My hands, my dirty
sinful hands, were still held pointlessly in front of me and crushed between both of our
bodies, but now I finally decided to put them to use. It was hard not to think about the
blood I continuously saw on them, though somehow getting Asher to stop seemed
126

more important. I stretched both hands out to push at his chest, where the thin fabric
of his dress shirt clung desperately to his chest.
No, he stated clearly. I suppose I should have been thankful for any answer,
considering the crazed look he had in his eyes again, but it wasnt the answer I was
looking for.
He descended on me again, with the hand still on the back of my neck twisting my
face back toward him. His teeth nipped at my lower lip as a growl crawled up the
depths of his throat, sending a vibration through his tongue to my mouth. Little bursts of
flame broke out in my head, against my cheeks, down the loops of my arms to my
fingertips. Instinctively, I curled my grip into his shirt, clenching at a fistful of the
drenched material as I moved my lips against his.
The hand loitering against the small of my back drifted down again, where it ran over
the curve of my ass before venturing straight to my outer thigh. I pushed at his chest
again with both fists, a subtle movement of resistance that drove him even closer to
me. With one jerk, he removed my source of balance out from under me. His left hand
deserted my neck to grab onto my other leg as he shoved his crotch down between
my parted thighs, both of his hands holding my legs up to either side of his hips. He
grinded his stiffening cock against mine with a guttural, greedy moan on his lips that
had me shivering like an Eskimo.
He was the only thing holding me up, I realized, with the support of the wall against my
back. I tried to hold onto him; it was the one thing I could do, the one thing I had
control over. Everything else was in his hands, but he didnt seem to mind. I did, I
minded a lot, particularly when the friction from his dry humping sent shocks of
electricity down through my dick, straight to my balls.
Shit, what was that feeling?
Stop! I gasped, tearing away from him again. Stop, its feeling weird, my words fell
out in a pant. My pathetic inexperience had him reining back on the breaks and
immediately ceasing his actions. He dropped my legs back to the floor as he took a
step back, glancing down at the it I was talking about.
So I never had sex before, and I knew almost nothing about it, so what? It didnt
warrant the absolute shock on his face. It was like I had just told him that the world
spun the other way.
Shit, he grunted, officially marking the second time I had ever heard him curse. He
raised one hand up to his sandy, refined hair, swinging the longer strands out of his
face and back against his skull. I should not have done that, he said cautiously,
carefully, his foggy eyes running over my flushed face while I remained panting and
127

flattened against the wall. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than
he was trying to comfort me.
Wait, comfort? Why did he have to comfort me?
Everything that had been wiped clear by his kiss came crashing back into my skull,
nearly flooring me. My eyes stung with the miserable feeling that crept back into my
chest, clawing its way up to my throat. Asher caught my shift back to the downward
spiral and reached out to me again, cupping my face into one of his hands. Sshh,
he leaned forward, lightly gliding his teeth and lips up along my jaw line. Have you
never been with a man before?
I knew what he was doing; he was giving me the two things I needed at that moment;
comfort, and a distraction. The only reason he was doing any of this was because he
felt bad for me, the pathetic homeless kid that just lost his dog, and no other reason.
Right? Right?
You dont have t
A woman? he cut me off briskly, just as I choked out a miserable sob.
Stop it! My dog just died, I cried out mournfully, my eyes tearing up again. And you
shot him! Technically, I knew Asher had just put Porto out of his misery with the mercy
killing, something I wasnt strong enough to do, but I didnt mind dishing out all the
blame to someone else just then.
Youve never been with anyone? he stuck to his own subject, with a strange glint of
curiosity in his eyes.
This isnt funny!
Apparently, it was. The boyish smirk was on his face again, giving his usually lifeless
expression a new vivacity that almost made his grey eyes look blue. I hated blue,
right? I couldnt remember.
Does it feel bad? he continued smirking. Did what feel bad? The memory of my
dead dogs blood on my hands? Yeah, it felt bad. The fucking asshole, why couldnt
he just leave me alone? I glared at him as his eyes moved down, compelling me to do
the same.
My neglected penis was peeking up at us, stuck somewhere between its usual floppy
self and a hard pole against my stomach. I flushed in embarrassment at the bodily
reaction I thought had already faded, but it was clear that Asher had never stopped

128

talking about it. Not once. He stretched his hand out from his side, trickling his fingers
down my shaft while I trembled beneath his touch.
No, my breath exhaled without the logical side of my brain having a chance to
restrict it. Just as Asher was about to wrap his entire hand around my girth, my thoughts
went into overdrive, begging me to correct my mistake. But it doesnt feel good
either!
He paused, his hand close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from his palm
without him ever making contact. The warm water beating down on us momentarily
made my eyes blurry when I looked back at him with the intent of figuring out if he
would call my bluff. As I blinked the moisture away, I saw him reluctantly pull his hand
back to his side.
Does it hurt? he asked after a moment.
N-no it just feels like theres pressure, I answered honestly. I didnt see why it
mattered.
Then relieve it.
What? I arched both eyebrows, caught off guard by the suggestion I didnt
understand.
Instead of wasting his breath on instructions that could have been very quick and to
the point, Asher reached out to grab my hand and pull it down from hovering in front
of my chest. He pressed my sinned palm against my own erection, folding his fingers
on top of my own to force a fist around the flesh pole, and then began to lead the
awkward touch up and down my length. I shuddered at the friction, the strange
sensation I had never felt for myself.
This is called masturbation, I half-expected him to say, but he only grinned at me. I
knew what it was called, I had just never done it. Sure I had the occasional morning
wood, what guy didnt? But I never masturbated; I just let it go away on its own when I
woke up in the cold spot behind the trashcan. My hormones took a backseat when I
was rendered homeless, it wasnt that hard to understand it, but Asher looked more
amused now than I had ever seen him before. He probably just thought I was some
stuck up prude that thought touching yourself was dirty. Well, then again
Are you taking advantage of me again? I blurted, my words bursting from my lips in
a blur.

129

He looked surprised for an instant, like he hadnt even thought of it before, but the
quick return of his grin let me know that he didnt think it was a bad idea. Yes, he
answered smoothly.
His other hand stretched to my free one, leading it from its immobile prison down to my
chest. Continuing his lesson plans, he pressed my own fingers down against the
sensitive nubs that I would have otherwise never thought about; but when his
calloused thumb brushed against the surface of one nipple, I gasped, and he took
advantage of my parted lips like the predator he was. The hot tongue was in my
mouth again, gliding upward across my teeth, and his perfectly warm lips closed
around my lower one when his tongue retreated. It felt absolutely riveting.
Youre getting hard, he murmured into my mouth, feeding my brain the vocabulary I
needed to know. Apparently, it feels weird wasnt the best way to describe getting
an erection.
I dont know if I like this, I whispered airily.
Do you want me to stop? He tightened the moving fist on my penis, pressing my own
fingers firmly against the responsive flesh. Heat pooled at the head, a strange warmth I
didnt quite recognize dripping from the tip and sliding down the length. On his next
stroke upward, he forced my fingers to pick up the extra moisture and slick it back
down to the base of my arousal.
N no, I breathed hesitantly. That was all the permission he needed. As soon as I
had finished pronouncing the short word, his mouth was pressed up tightly against
mine again, locking my voice in my throat. He continued to lead my hand in an upand-down motion on my woody, but he deserted my other hand when I didnt
immediately get the hang of touching my chest. I didnt really understand the nipple
play, though I couldnt deny how good it felt when he rubbed his thumb over them in
a quick flick.
His recently freed hand drifted down over my ribcage, past my hip, and once again to
my buttocks. I tensed up at the awkward touch, but he eased me up with the
continuous stroking. I felt like I should have been taking notes, the way he was moving
my hand, twisting my palm so that it rotated on the upstroke and let my thumb touch
the sensitive mushroom head before pushing back down to the soft black bush at the
base of my cock. I was so bizarrely conscious of this hand, the one teaching me how
to touch myself, that I didnt realize what the other one was doing until I felt the tip of
the finger poke inside of me.
Wha..! I gasped against his mouth, violently smashing my hand into his chest. He only
pushed forward, edging the finger further in. That was too much. It was the final straw

130

on the camels back. I burst like a rocket whose launch button had just been
pressed, and there was no abort for this mission.
I shook violently with my orgasm, and he pulled me close to him as he completely took
over the stroking process. His lips drifted away from mine, trickling up my jaw line
again, biting down on the bone before his lips suckled at the assaulted skin. Every one
of his actions started a new fire in my body, confusing my little virgin brain. I didnt
even know where to put my hands.
My legs felt wobbly beneath me, almost uneven, and I was sure if he let go of me at
that moment I would have fallen right down. He must have known that too, because
he didnt let go. He took a moment to wash my evidence off his hand before he
reached out to grab my shoulder and turn me toward the waters spray. Silently, he
rubbed his hand down over my stomach, my limp organ, washing the rest of my
semen away with a feathery touch that didnt agitate my sensitive tip.
Clean yourself up, he breathed into my ear once I was more balanced. I stretched
out a hand to support myself against the wall when his hands slid off my skin and his
body heat departed.
I heard him slosh out of the bathroom as I fed my hand down my stomach, stopping
only inches away from my crotch. I didnt want to touch it, it felt strange and tingly,
but warm. My throat tightened up once my eyes fell down to my hands, my dirty, sinful
hands. I gasped ferociously as I snatched the soap and washcloth, instantly beginning
to scrub myself raw. I wanted the blood off of me, the thickness I could still feel even
though I could no longer see it.
I didnt stay in the shower long. The moment Asher left my side, my thoughts went
back to the ups and downs of that daymostly the downs. Just as my mind was about
to split into fragments again, I slammed my hand down on the knob that had opened
the flow of water to shut it off and rushed out. Without a towel, I hurried down the hall
to the room I knew belonged to him.
Muffin, he called, stopping me before I could reach the double doors of the master
bedroom. I turned to see him standing in the same room he had banished me to the
first time I was a guest here, wearing a fresh pair of sweat pants and a loose wife
beater. He had a phone tucked against his shoulder and a towel in his hands, drying
his hair up with it. As he listened to the person on the other end, he quietly signaled to
some clothes he had laid out on the edge of the bed for me.
I mindlessly dripped my way into the room, walking right up to the pajamas folded
neatly on the mattress with the briefs set on top. Just as I bent down to grab the
underwear, his towel hit me on the head and fell in a drape across my shoulders. I
gasped at the contact, jerking back to look up at his face for some sort of
131

explanation, but he had his back to me. With a frown, I pulled the damp towel down
to start drying my wet skin.
Im perfectly aware of that, he spoke stoically to the person on the phone. I
understand. I will take care of it first thing in the morning, he paused, the muffled
voice on the other side growing loud enough for me to hear the pitch. In the
morning, he repeated, his voice back into its commanding mode. I gawked in awe
when the voice died down into a murmur, easily giving in to him. He wasnt kidding,
people really didnt say no to him in his line of work. Speaking of which
What do you do for a living? I asked as soon as he had hung up the phone.
He turned to glance at me over one shoulder, not hesitating in the least to look over
my nude body. How did you get those scars?
Touch.
I scowled at him as I pulled the towel down in front of my crotch, hiding the goods
from his careful eyes. He gave me the respect of turning away so that I could hurriedly
get dressed. Im not sure why I bothered covering up, it wasnt like I had anything left
to hide, and he had already chucked all my modesty out the window.
Still, I needed the patience just then, and he gave it to me.
The new pair of pajamas fit, strangely enough, and for once they werent blue. Not
that he had progressed any, it was still a dull, lifeless grey, but at least it wasnt blue.
Instead of pinstripes, this one had tiny Cranberry muffins printed across the fabric,
some of them with little faces, some of them holding their own cranberries. I felt
absolutely ridiculous in them, but at least the shirt was plain.
Not funny, I grumbled and he turned back toward me to grin at his own private joke.
It really wasnt funny.
Get to bed, Asher ordered as he pushed his phone into his pocket. I hesitated, my
hands clutching tightly at the towel trembling in my grip, while my torso turned to
follow his stride past me.
Are you leaving? My voice cracked.
He paused, an unidentifiable look in his eyes when he glanced back toward me. Do
you want me to stay?
There was an edge to his voice; an underlying meaning I didnt understand but knew
was there. I did, I wanted him to stay. I didnt want to be left alone with my own
132

thoughts, I already knew what they would do to me. Asher had grounded me with his
actions, his touch and his voice, if he left now I would fly away again. I didnt know if I
could come back down without his help. But that strange tone in his voice made the
rebellious side of me spike up, reminding me that I was full of pride and didnt want
anyones pity.
No, I whispered, dropping my eyes down to the floor. I couldnt do it, I couldnt ask
for his help.
I didnt have to.
His hand moved to pluck the towel out of my grip, pulling it up to spread it on my
dripping hair. Carefully, he rubbed the rough surface into my skull, gathering stray
drops of water off the inky strands. I exhaled quietly beneath the cover of the towel,
staring at his chest in front of me where the fabric didnt block my vision. Beneath the
light of the room, I could make out faint scratches on his collarbone, up along his
neck, markings I hadnt noticed before when I was selfishly caught up in my own
world. As the towel slid back, off of my head, I tilted my chin back to look up at his
eyes. Impulsively, I licked at my lips with the sense of anxiety boiling in my chest.
Dont he began impatiently.
do that, yeah, yeah, I suddenly scoffed, jerking my head away from him as I
raised a hand to touch my lips. Whats your problem anyway?
Asher tangled his fingers into my hair, pulling so forcefully on my head that I could
have sworn I heard something crack. With his other hand, he grabbed onto my chin,
slanting my face up toward the light. My hands snapped up in hopes of aiding me,
slamming against his wrists and pulling down with futile attempts at freedom. You
have no idea how delicious your mouth looks, he snarled.
My lips parted soundlessly, trying to work out some sort of smart aleck response, but my
brain refused to help it. My thoughts shot back to the night before, when he almost
ripped my pants off, and I realized what I had done to set him off. Licking my lips?
Really? That was enough to make him snap? Cautiously, I closed my mouth, an action
he clearly approved of because he released me as soon as I did it.
Now get to bed. He sounded angry, not just annoyed, but gradually he let his
volume melt back into its lifeless calm. You need sleep.
I dont know if I can
Try, he grunted, reaching out to grab onto my shoulder and nudge me back toward
the bed. He quickly drew back the covers for me, shoving me onto the mattress
133

before I could voluntarily slip in. The comforter was thrown back down on top of me,
covering my body and my head. I listened to him shuffle away, and just as I worked
the warm fabric of the blankets down under my chin I saw the lights turn off.
Oh god, he left. He left me all alone, and I was going to go back under again. I was
going to lose it.
Alrick? Ashers voice came from behind me.
I turned little by little in bed, shifting so I could see where he stood. With one hand in his
pocket, the elegant businessman leaned nonchalantly against the window, peering
out towards the moon as the soft blue glow of his phone pressed against his ear lit up
one side of his face.
Yes, I realize that. It wasnt something I anticipated. Though I dont believe it will be a
problem, he continued, letting me hear his voice. Slowly, I closed my eyes, listening to
the rhythm of his words slip in and out of my mind. I never really understood anything
he said, I wasnt paying attention to the context, just the sound of his voice. It lulled me
enough to let me momentarily slip into a false sense of security. Somewhere on the
way to unconsciousness, I heard Ashers voice stop and his footsteps drift out of the
room.
Thats when the nightmares started.

134

It didnt start out so bad.

I sat in the back of the car, buckled up and covered by a blanket big enough for
three. The speakers vibrated softly with the beat of the music, an old pop song I
recognized faintly in the back of my brain. It was a catchy song, I whistled along to it
as I stared out the window, but the words never quite registered. Mom was laughing
from the front seat, waving her hands around energetically as she tried to tell a story to
everyone, and we laughed at her jokes just to make her feel better.
But when I glanced towards the front of the car, it wasnt Dad driving, it was Asher,
and with an eerie coolness he peered back at me through the rearview window. The
dreams meshed, as they often did, blurring into an abstract piece of art that twisted
and turned with millions of colors splashing together. Next thing I knew, I was in the
front seat, and Porto was the one driving. He looked awkward behind the wheel, both
paws on top, his curled tail folded beside him and his legs folded under, and yet for
some reason I didnt feel alarmed. He was driving me. I was safe with Porto.
Then the water hit the front windshield, birthing a string of crackling sounds that rippled
through the side of the car. The doors bent inward like a thin piece of foil, folding
against the pressure, caving in on me from all sides. Porto broke through the window
on the drivers side, paddling his way to the top while I struggled uselessly with my
seatbelt. The strap holding me down was stuck against the crunched door, its
awkward frame still melting towards me, and as the water began to stray in through
the open window I felt panic smack me in the chest. I pulled at the seatbelt, kicked at
the dashboard, tried to writhe free of the deathtrap but nothing worked. The water felt
cold and icy against my skin, threatening to rob me of my nervous system if I didnt
distance myself from its caress. When I opened my mouth to scream for help, the liquid
filled my throat, my lungs, and my stomach, taking up every inch of me until I was
completely submerged.
A hand stretched out from the shattered framework of the front window, grabbing
onto my shoulders and wrenching me out of the collapsing car. The moment I could
move my limbs again, the hand was gone, leaving me to fend for myself in the

135

darkness below. I kicked away from the sinking car, up to where I knew to be the
surface. The light glittering across the surface was brief, but I saw it, and I knew where
my salvation lay.
My face and hands broke through first, hitting the air the moment the water splashed
away from me. I tried to take in a breath, to inhale, even exhale, and the water came
up over me again. This time, it froze around my throat, against my nostrils, my mouth,
suffocating me with no way out. Blood seeped into the frozen liquid from edges my
eyes couldnt see, creating little streams that inched their way towards my face, my
open mouth, making their way into my body without my permission. I tried to scream,
to tell the blood to stop, but I couldnt move an inch of my body. The hand didnt
come this time; it didnt try to tow me to freedom. Panic hit me again.

I shot up in bed like the triggered edge of a mousetrap, my body moving so sharply
that the blankets were completely thrown off of my upper torso. My nightmare
flickered out of focus as the coldness of the room was immediately explained by a
flutter of the curtains to my right, with the window hanging open behind it. I pulled the
warm comforter back up against my body, shivering into it while my mind quickly
erased the traces of my dream.
I used to hate that, when I was a kid. I would have a riveting dream and when I woke
up I couldnt remember it, I just remembered the immediate feeling I had when I first
woke. Now, I counted on the strange brain activity I didnt understand, the kind that
made you forget most of everything you had seen and felt so clearly during your
unconscious moments.
With the light bulbs of my thoughts popping out one by one in my head, I tried to
refocus my eyes in the darkness of the room. My stomach grumbled in protest of my
starvation torture, and my mouth ached for some form of liquid to wash away the
dryness within. I licked mindlessly at my lips as I pushed my way off of the mattress,
pulling the comforter with me so I could maintain what warmth remained in my body.
The darkness in the hall suggested two possibilities; I had either not slept for long or that
I had slept through the day to the next night. The ache in my body hinted at the first,
but I dearly hoped for the second as I made my way down towards the stairs. It was
harder to see than the first night I attempted my escape since no light spilled from the
kitchen. I assumed my villain was asleep when I passed his room, but not soon after I
took a step down I noticed a faint light coming from downstairs.
It wasnt bright enough to be from a bulb, but it spanned far enough to catch my
attention. I kept my hand out in front of me until I felt the wall, then walked directly in
the opposite direction in search of the handrail. My fingers hesitated at first to wrap
136

around the surface of the wood, they were much too cold to have any real structure
of strength. The rest of my body felt brittle and weak, like I had been walking the
desert sand for weeks. I had to push away the thought of Lent while I made my way
further down.
My eyes found an easier path for me when I got to the bottom floor, with the
continuous lights glow growing ever so clear. The plain comforter I had wrapped
around me tightly thumped against the last few set of stairs as I made a small turn
towards the next room, choosing to silently make my entrance.
What I thought of as silent, Asher apparently thought as loud and disruptive, because
his head jerked up in alarm the moment I moved into the room.
It was as bland and lifeless as the rest of the house, but with the glow coming from the
right side of the room, a certain amount of life came to what was previously a boring,
blue living room. I tore my eyes away from the alarmed businessman to glance at the
source of light, the fireplace, that so elegantly washed the surface of everything it
touched in red and orange. I smiled faintly at the possibility of warmth, and without
thinking made my way over to it.
Did you even try? his voice came from behind me. I might have turned to study his
expression, because he sounded a bit weird, but I was much too interested in the fire.
The flickering flames were so beautiful, dancing back and forth, taunting me with the
fluid motion that promised me comfort and heat. I stretched my hands out toward the
blaze as I knelt by the fireplace, letting the temperature radiated lick the surface of my
frozen skin.
Dont get too close, he warned. His voice was much too smooth to disrupt my
weaving thoughts, but when a loud crinkling sound came my mind snapped back into
place. I thought instantly of the folding car in the back of my hazy memories.
What? I snapped, jerking my hands back to my lap and twisting my torso to look
back at him. The crinkling sound came again, from a newspaper he was holding out in
front of him. He was wearing a dress shirt and suit pants again. Did I even try what?
To sleep, he frowned at me over the edge of the paper.
Why? What time is it? I licked nervously at my lips.
Asher paused, his body stiffening uncomfortably, an action that instantly reminded me
of his rather ridiculous trigger. I felt awkwardly self-conscious when his eyes migrated
down to my lips; no doubt still glistening with the moisture I had left behind. He was
such a discomfiting creep. Pulling the blanket up tighter around my shoulders, I turned
back to the fire just to avoid his gaze.
137

How long did I sleep? I tried again, when he didnt answer my earlier question.
Two hours, he answered easily, apparently finished with his momentary lapse.
Fuck. Only two hours? It was better than nothing, but it felt like such a short amount of
time. I knew I needed sleep, I loved my sleep, and it didnt matter where I woke up as
long as I got those solid hours of resting my eyes. I tried to think back to the last time I
had gotten some real shut eye, without fainting, but when I tried to think back that far
there was only one thing there. Porto.
Why did you kill my dog? I whispered, the ache skulking back into my voice.
He was already dying.
Thats not true! I could have A vet could have helped him! If I just took him in, he
would have been fine! My voice cracked painfully.
It was just a dog, he sighed, though somehow he managed to avoid sounding
impatient. It didnt matter, his statement still pissed me off. Just a dog didnt begin to
describe Porto, he was much more than that to me, and Asher realized it the moment I
turned to glare at him. Well get you a puppy, he offered.
I dont want a fucking puppy! I seethed, springing up to my feet. I want my dog
back, you son of a bitch. MY dog! He was MINE! And you fucking killed him, when you
could have you could have helped! You could have saved him! You could have
done something!
I did do something, he tilted his newspaper down a bit toward me, giving me a
better view of his indifferent expression. I put him out of his misery, and I saved your
life. Thats three times now, according to your math.
I had a complete brain fart the moment he said that. I didnt know whether to argue
about Porto or his fucked up logic, which was increasingly beginning to run me straight
out of my own mind. I knew one thing though; the tears and misery were still coming. I
didnt know how to stop it this time.
But you it was your ff.. I exhaled sharply, unable to string the correct words
together from sheer shock.
Fault, Asher finished easily. That may be so, he paused a moment, giving a quick
shake to his folding newspaper to stand its edges back upright. The crinkling sound
sent a shiver up my spine. Yes, perhaps you are correct. I will take responsibility for the
death of your dog and offer you my apologies.
138

So what? That was it?

You dont care, I accused coldly, swallowing back my own emotional rollercoaster.
Asher pressed his lips into a tight line, narrowing his eyes in my direction. I watched in
utter horror as he gave a clear shake of his head, with no pity or amount of
understanding in his gaze. He was a fucking robot, he must have been. He barely
blinked before glancing back down to that damned newspaper, probably picking up
where he had left off before I came into the room.
Youre so fucking cruel, I breathed, and as soon as I had spoken I realized how
childish and stupid I sounded. Was I asking for his pity? Did I want understanding from
a person I barely knew? I pulled the comforter tighter around me during my descent
back to the floor, where I flopped onto my ass in a position dangerously close to the
fire. I wanted the flames to thaw out the prickly ice I felt freezing my insides again, the
raw emotion that threaten to either swallow me up or turn me into a numb robot like
my villain. I bet you dont even understand what its like to lose a friend, I huffed
bitterly, with one hand quickly wiping at my eyes before any moisture could escape.
That comment was too much for him. Asher suddenly stood up, visibly rattled by my
allegation, and made his way over to me in two complete strides. Both of my hands
rested in my lap, but when he charged me I moved them to the floor to elevate myself
upwardit didnt work. Before I could remove myself from his path, he stamped a foot
down on my right hand and buried the heel of his perfect shoe straight into my
knuckles. I threw my head back in a gasp of pain, straight into the expectant hand
that immediately wrapped around my chin to turn my gaze toward him.
I lost two men tonight. They both had families, wives, children, parents, aunts, and
uncles, people that will wonder where they are in the morning. And you want me to
feel sorry about a dog? he stopped short, leaving a certain tone behind that made
me guess he wanted to say more. I pulled my face away from him as I tried to free my
trapped, aching hand, attempting futilely to avoid picturing the two humans that had
supposedly lost their lives.
Dont those men deserve your pity, too? Your sadness? he continued, not once
letting up on the pressure he applied to my hand. Dont they? Dont they, Muffin?
NO! I screamed, obliging him enough to send my glare to his face. THEY DONT! I
DONT CARE ABOUT THEM. I DIDNT KNOW THEM. BUT PORTO WAS my dog. Thats
what he meant, and I understood the lesson he was trying to teach me the moment I
said my mutts name. Asher removed his foot from my hand, leaving me in a daze by
the fireplace as he quietly stalked away. Porto was my dog, not his. He had no
139

connection, no claim; of course he didnt care about my poor, sweet mutt, just like I
didnt care about his stupid men.
I rubbed consciously at my red knuckles, trying to return the blood lost back to the
proper place. In my current state of mind, I wouldnt have even noticed that Asher
completely left the room if he didnt return a few minutes later. His shadow split over
me when he chose to stand in front of the light of the fire, simultaneously blocking off
the heat. I thought he had just gone back to his comfy chair and noisy newspaper, but
the new item he had in his hand suggested otherwise.
He dropped the fetched thing into my lap, leaving it to my curiosity to ravage it while
he returned to his seat. I grabbed the plain white bag, twisting it in my grasp to inspect
every corner of it before retreating to the zipper that kept it shut. A quick jerk had it
open, baring the prize inside for my eyes to take in.
One by one, I picked out the objects inside the plain bag; there was a toothbrush,
toothpaste, face wash, a hairbrush, hair clips, a cloth headband, a silk eye pillow, and
I kid you not, a fucking bottle of lavender body lotion.
What the fuck? I picked out the lotion with two fingers, like it was the most disgusting
thing in the world.
Lotion, he identified, because apparently I couldnt read and I didnt know what it
was. Bastard.
Yes, thank you, I know its a lotion. What the fuck is it for? And an eye pillow? Are you
fucking mocking me? I growled.
You can throw away what you dont need, he continued calmly.
As quickly as my hands let me, I stuffed the lotion back in and zipped it up. Then
without warning, I raised the bag to chuck it straight at his headI expected him to
catch it, kind of like those action movies when the hero catches a thrown fist in the
palm of their hand, or even swats it away, but that wasnt what he did. It actually
looked like he let it hit him in the chest and bounce off, like he knew my aim sucked
and there was nothing to worry about. His expression was monotonous; there wasnt
even a flinch when something went flying at him.
I said what you dont need, not what you dont want, he spoke after a few seconds
as he stretched his hand down to pick up the bag from its toppled position from the
corner of his seat. You need the toothbrush, he sighed carelessly.
I thought you said my mouth tasted delicious? I barked without thinking, there was
no time for censoring. Damn.
140

I recall commenting on the visual aspect, not the taste, he retorted easily while I felt
the embarrassment hit my face, burning both of my cheeks red. Self consciously, I
curled my tongue up against the plane of my teeth, rubbing the tip over the surface. I
never liked the grainy feel of dirty teeth, and even though I didnt have access to a
toothbrush before I usually tried to scrub up whatever there was with my finger or nail.
In an effort to refrain from doing that now, I shoved both of my hands under the cover
of the warm comforter and pulled the fabric closer to my chest.
So what, am I your whore now? I mumbled angrily, furrowing my eyebrows together.
I heard his newspaper crinkle from my left, so I raised my chin a bit to glance in his
direction. Both of his eyebrows were arched, questioning me. Slut? Prostitute? Is that
why youre keeping me here? Youre going to use my body for your sick sexual
fantasies? I had to try hard not to think about the shower, but of course thats all I
thought of.
No.
No what? What did that mean? Why couldnt he thread just a few more words
together so I didnt feel like a complete idiot sitting in front of him?
What the fuck, my breath left me in a harsh sigh.
He went back to reading his paper, easily ignoring my presence like one would a
goldfish stuck in a fish bowl. I felt remarkably insignificant, and at that moment I knew
that I wanted his attention back on me. Was he doing it on purpose? It seemed
unlikely that I would ever find out.
Why did you seem surprised when you found out I never fucked anyone? I kept my
tone sharp, crude, hoping it would draw his eyes off his paper and straight to me. It
worked.
Asher looked pleasantly surprised by my harsh language, probably because I couldnt
even say penis or erection beforebut it was different now, my personal space
wasnt being invaded and I no longer felt vulnerable. The distance between our
bodies gave me the courage to overstep my boundaries which I couldnt have done
in the shower, when I was the helpless one and he was the the Fuck, I didnt know
what he was. Maybe a sick, creepy bastard that admitted to taking advantage of
me? And yet he stopped when he found out I was a virgin. Why was that?
Miss Anna mentioned that you didnt depend on her for food or shelter, he stated in
his matter-of-fact tone, and I gave a nod to urge him on. Yes, so? Asher gave a shake
to his newspaper, folding it inward and flattening it over his legs before leaning in
toward me. And you dont seem like the type to beg.
141

The click of information was audible in my brain. I felt his assumption smack me in the
side of the head and knock the breath out of me, practically sending me into a state
of shock. I didnt even have time to think about why he was talking to Anna, or what
he was saying to her. You I paused, blinking the blurred rage out of my vision. You
thought I peddled my ass?!
I didnt know a smile could look so smug and polite at the same time, but then again
Asher was showing me a lot of things I didnt previously think as possible.
It was a reasonable assumption at the time.
Oh, so I dont seem like the kind of person that begs, but I do seem like Id fuck
random strangers for food? How dare he! He knew nothing about me, and he had
assumed the absolute worst about me!
But then, didnt I do the same?
As my thoughts ventured back to the alleyway, where I had assumed a starving bum
mugged him, I felt a few other dots connect. It wasnt a mugging; it was just supposed
to look like one. Asher had been dumped there to bleed out and dieI was never
supposed to find him. No one was. It was Bumsville, no one went there, Asher was
supposed to die. That was the only thing that made sense, no other story could put the
man sitting in front of me in such a vulnerable position; but how did they do it? How
did they get him to sit still while they stabbed him? Some sort of drug?
Excuse me?
His voice rocked my train of thought off course, startling me. Crap, did I say that out
loud? My mind kept spiraling out of control, and how could it not? Every time I was
around this man, the speed of my life would double instantly. The guns, explosions, and
bad guys that chased you downthose elements didnt quite fit my life, they were
outside of the spectrum of what defined me, so it was extremely difficult for me to
mold myself around it.
Muffin, his voice came again, more persistent. I shot my eyes up to his face,
instinctively drawing the comforter draped around me tighter against my core in a
defensive motion. Why dont you go back to sleep?
Water rushed into the room. I had to blink to make it disappear before it made
contact with the back of Ashers seat and completely submerged him. I felt the
exhaustion laugh at me from the back of my brain as I tried to resist thinking of my
precious dogs name, and the blood Fuck, there was so much blood and Alrick?
142

Was he okay? It was incredible how many thoughts the human brain could generate
all at once. Then again, I was probably just going insane.
He remained on his chair, newspaper folded on his knees, looking at me like I was the
most obscure animal at the zoo. I had the distinct feeling that he wanted to reach out
with a stick and poke me through the bars.
Dont look at me, I hissed.
Why not? he arched both eyebrows. Youre pleasing to the eye, he explained, like
I was worried about my looks.
I dont like it when people look at me, so dont look at me! I sounded childish again,
and this time I cared. How did he continuously make me feel so fucking small, so
trivial? I was irrelevant in his world, yet he insisted on holding onto me. Why?
Very well, said Asher. It sounded like he was agreeing with my request, but he
never took his eyes off of me.
This man knew me for the span of four days; therefore it made no sense for him to
have acquired any sense of attachment to me, we barely knew each other. Strike
that, we didnt know each other at all. If anything, we just had more questions. Did he
honestly think he owned me? Did he still think he owed me his life? The rudimentary
line of thoughts that falsely promised to answer my internal questions led me nowhere,
repeatedly. The dots refused to connect any further, be it due to my lack of
experience or sleep, I didnt know. For some reason, I kept thinking about his earlier
threat to me, that if I were ever tardy he would punish me. What did that mean?
When was he going to punish me? Perhaps I had already gotten that guaranteed
punishment.
My stomach flipped when the graphic thoughts flooded my brain again, leaving me
completely defenseless to the world around me. I abandoned my comforter to reach
up, so I could clutch pathetically at my head in a useless attempt to keep the
headache from spreading any further from my temples. The pulsing proliferated down
regardless of my actions and desires, trickling past my hands, down my neck, through
my spine. My body ached, that much was understandable. The hunger and thirst I felt
when I first woke up hadnt departed, but I fought them even as the cold eyes
watched me.
What did normal people think about? Which one was I supposed to focus on first? The
cops, my dead dog, the molestation in the shower, my hunger, my soreness, my dread
of returning to the diner, the next life-threatening situation coming my way or the ones
that had already passed? I must have still been in shock; there was no other

143

explanation for why my brain failed to work correctly. Maybe I was just stupid and I just
didnt get it.
Fuck, I was hungry. My thirst was at a level that made water look good, but of course
what I wanted was coffee. Coffee would save me, it would wake me up and let me
think clearly again. Yes, coffee was my only hope.
Asher shifted after a few minutes of silence, removing himself from his cozy seat to turn
and walk out of the room. I ran my hand over the hollowed surface of my stomach as I
bent down over my crossed legs to press my head against the carpet, like somehow
grounding myself would make the headache and hunger disappear. I exhaled slowly,
counting backwards from ten in my head.
I dont remember falling asleep. I might have gotten as far as four, but Im not sure
about that either. The numbers I counted in my head very quickly became a mixture
of colors and shapes that foreshadowed my oncoming insanity. I tried to push my way
back to consciousness when I heard shuffling nearby, a muffled sound that had my
curiosity begging me to open my eyes.
Why is he sleeping here?
I knew that voice, but my eyes felt too tired to open in order to approve my suspicions
and my thoughts lagged too much to bring the correct name forward at first. It started
with an A. What was it? Damn, I felt so heavy.
The voice persisted when it didnt get a response. How long has he been sleeping?
About half an hour. I knew the second voice. It was Asher; I would never again fail in
identifying that voice. Its abnormal calm could not be mimicked.
That blur of colors remained pounding at the back of my eyelids when I became
aware of my surroundings, slowly but surely waking up. My back felt hot, really hot,
which led me to believe that the flame in fireplace was still burningbut with the fact
that my hands were freezing, I easily speculated that I rolled away from the heat when
I seemingly fell asleep. My nose felt like it would break off my face at any moment,
and my lips were achingly dry, but I resisted the urge to lick at them as I strained to
listen to the voices.
Hell catch a cold, it was the first voice again. It sounded concerned, but slightly
annoyed at the same time.
Hell be fine, Asher assured it, a somewhat soothing quality to his tone.

144

Ash, I dont like this. A new voice! I didnt know this one, though the anger present
was close to Vincenzos.
You dont need to, he grunted, though never lost his smooth manner.
After tonight
Ill be more careful.
Honestly Ash, what are you thinking? Isnt this overdoing it? Hes a stupid kid, and
definitely not one of us. If he doesnt get killed first, hes going to end up getting one of
us killed, the new voice warned.
Were they talking about me? My eyes still felt heavy, I didnt have the complete
consciousness or strength to open them, but I didnt think I wanted to anymore. If they
were talking about me, I wanted to keep listening, but my body was beginning to
work against me. My nose picked up the scent of something sweet, something that
pledged to be warm and juicy, threatening to have my stomach growling and giving
me away. My cold fingers wanted to move beneath the shelter of the comforter,
closer to my body heat so the danger of frostbite would be gone. To top it all off, I had
the most inconvenient itch on the top of my arm, along my shoulder.
Asher didnt answer, so the new voice resumed. Why did you bring him, anyway?
That was a good question; I wanted to know that too.
I promised Miss Anna that I would pick him up, Asher explained.
This promise business again? Why didnt you just do it LATER? Youre unbelievable. If
you hadnt brought him, everything would have gone smoothly. Jerry and Adam
would be alive! How could you turn your back on us like that? And all because of a kid
and his fucking dog!
Keep your voice down, the very first voice came, the one I couldnt identify before,
the one that had technically woken me up. It was Alrick, and he wasnt happy.
Why? Am I going to wake the princess up? This is fucking bullshit. He shouldnt even
be here, the stranger continued, now purposely raising his volume.
I figured it was pointless to act like I was asleep, considering how loud he was yelling,
and frankly I wanted to know who this guy was. So I started to listen to my bodys
requests; first, I pulled my hands in under the warm cover of the comforter, then I
stretched my right one back to itch at my shoulder before rolling over. My side felt stiff,

145

but I was used to sleeping on the floor so it wasnt too hard to ignore it. The heat from
the fire felt incredible on my face even though my lips were already beyond dry.
I licked up at the wrinkled skin to smooth it out with the moisture from inside my mouth
as I brought my teeth down on my lower lip, lightly biting down into the soft flesh. I
didnt remember what I was doing was taboo until I finally opened my eyes to
glance towards the voices.
Asher looked stiff again. I shouldnt have been surprised by now, but I was, it looked so
unnatural when he stood still like that, like he was holding himself backI tried again
not to think about the shower but a few images slipped in. Immediately, I morphed my
lips into a scowl while I sat up, both to ward him off and to express my annoyance at
the other two people in the room.
No, three. Next to Asher, Alrick stood leaning against the doorway with a fresh batch
of bandages on his head and his arm. I had assumed there was only one other body
present because I only heard one new voice, but sure enough two extra strangers
stood a bit off to the left. One of them glared daggers at me with unusually dark
brown eyes, both of his arms crossed defensively in front of him and his weight slanted
towards me. I couldnt see the others face, but I hadnt heard his voice either so it
didnt really matter. The glaring guy was clearly the yeller.
What? I sighed.
Get up, you useless street rat! This isnt a motel! the newcomer barked angrily.
I had a strange inclining to start quoting Aladdin, but I fought that back when I
realized two important things. One, all four men had stopped moving and talking the
moment I woke up, which had me wondering what they were doing in the first place.
They could have very easily gone into a different room to talk, but they lingered
behind. Why? Two, there was a delicious looking sandwich sitting next to me on the
floor, with a tall glass of water. I recognized the sweet smell from before, and this time
my stomach growled without limitation. Instead of grabbing the food, I snatched the
glass first to completely down the liquid inside.
That tasted so good. I hated water but the wetness back inside my mouth and down
my throat was absolutely heavenly. The prospect of having food back in my stomach
won versus my curiosity regarding the four men, so I ignored their existence as I
greedily grabbed the sandwich and turned away from them. The fire greeted me
instantly, still warm and comforting in every aspect. I kept my back to them while I ate,
taking big filling bites that were a battle just to chew.
Did you not hear me? I said GET UP! the angry guy continued yelling.

146

But I wanted food, and I wasnt going to allow him to deny me sustenance. Getting up
required moving my sore muscles too, something I didnt want to do until the fire could
thaw out the chill in my flesh. I didnt hear any shuffling behind me, so I assumed that
no one approached me; but sure enough, a shadow soon loomed over me. These
people were beyond disturbing.
Are you deaf or just dumb? the stranger yelled, still glaring. He bent down to grab at
me, but a rumble from the back of the room stopped him before contact.
Michael.
It was Asher, who else? With that same warning tone in his voice. I grinned when the
man pulled back, partly because I was happy that I got to continue munching, and
partly because I was happy that the creepy voice didnt affect just me. Apparently,
by calling out a name or a word Asher had the ability to send a good couple of
messages through his tone. It was becoming more and more clear why he was a man
of few words; he only needed a few words.
What? What, Ash? I cant touch him now? Is he off limits? This is so fucked up! Give
me ONE good reason why I shouldnt throw this nobody out on his ass right now!
He is my guest, Asher clarified.
I choked on my sandwich when a chuckle erupted through my throat at the
downright stupid reason my supposed host decided to give. Everything this guy said
was a punch line, and when it wasnt directed to me I found the overall attitude
hilarious. If I cared enough, I would have looked up to him, maybe even tried to make
him my hero. Though while I was amused, the angry man supposedly named
Michael hovering over me found the entire situation irritating. He gave me a growl,
and I could see his hand curl up into a fist from the corner of my eye while I continued
eating.
Guest?! he barked angrily.
Dont get your panties in a knot, Im leaving as soon as possible, I sighed, having
conveniently finished my food at a new record time. I was hungrier than I first thought.
Watch how you talk to me, I have no problem snapping your pretty little neck, he
fired back.
Oh? You think my neck is pretty?

147

He flinched back, his expression quickly dissolving into one of scorn. He opened his
mouth to snap back at me, and I was ready for him, but before World War Three could
break out, Alrick stepped up to the plate to play mediator.
Thats enough. Michael, you will respect Ashers decision. And you, he pointed
toward me, drawing my eyes up to his hand, then his face. Youre with me today.
Come on.
I didnt have to listen, obviously, he wasnt my keeper and I was perfectly comfortable
where I sat. Not that I wanted to stay in Ashers home any longer than I had to, but I
wasnt about to ask how high just because Alrick said jump. Then again, this Michael
character seemed more off his rocker than Vincenzo, and the fact that he called
Asher Ash let me know they were buddies. So if he killed me, hed probably just get a
slap on the wrist. Or maybe just a Okay, but dont do it again.
While I went through my internal monologue, Asher said something I didnt really
understand. The men nodded and migrated out, leaving the two of us alone in the
living room again. I noticed they left, but I didnt move or respond to the situation until
the marvelous bag of goodies was dropped off in my lap again. First thing I thought
about was the lavender lotion.
Go away, I whined, shoving the bag off my lap. I was too tired to deal with him.
I didnt catch my own transition until Asher gave a small chuckle. Tired had to be an
understatement, I was downright deliriousI hadnt even denied being Ashers guest
before, nor did I completely bite Michaels head off; I let Asher defend me. I think I did,
anyway. Damnit it was so hard to think, and I was still so thirsty. I knew I was supposed
to say something nasty to the man standing over me, but even that felt like too much
effort. Go away was the best I had.
Brush your teeth and freshen up for the day. Alrick will take you back, he said.
No, I grunted. I knew what back meant now, and not only did I not want to brush
my teeth, I didnt want to see Anna anytime soon. I felt incredibly weak, and I knew Id
be reminded of my puppy the moment I went back to the city. I would much rather
brood in a dark corner until time stopped. Or the world did. Either one.
You dont want to go back? he sounded amused.
I dont want to brush my teeth. So fuck off, youre not my mom.
You can stay here, if youd like. There he went with his selective listening again, it
was like Id never spoken.

148

Why would I do that? I hate it here, and I hate you. The moment you open the door,
Im out of here, I swallowed back a yawn, keeping my eyes on his perfect shoes as
the light of the fire flickered over the smooth surface.
Is that so? he murmured, slowly bringing himself down to a crouch in front of me. I still
stared at his shoes.
Yeah, fucker. Are you surprised? You lock someone up against their will and you think
theyll be grateful or something? I bet you want a medal. All hail to Mr. Prickett for
taking in the dirty kid off the streets and trying to make his life better. Well fuck you, I
never asked for your help. In fact, I remember precisely asking you to leave me alone
and not give me help. If you can even call that help. Ive known you for four days and
you almost got me killed twice, not only that you got my dog killed and now the cops
are after me. I might be a homeless nobody but Ive never had a record before and
nowHey!
His hand was on my leg. His hand was on my leg. Oh my fuck, his hand was on my leg.
I darted back as soon as he touched me, flattening my spine against the smooth
stone frame of the fireplace as my hands and feet pushed forcefully at the ground to
keep me steady. My heart burst like a newly lit rocket, shooting free of the veins
holding onto it to smash into the flesh trapping it in my chest. I shot my eyes up to his
face, to the little boyish grin that brought light to his usually expressionless face.
You get very quiet when I touch you, why is that? he crept forward, moving down
from his crouching position to his knees so that he could approach me. He
continuously looked like a predator.
Because youre a fucking creepy pervert, thats why, I wanted to yell back at him, but
my mouth suddenly felt ten times drier than before. I bit down on my lower lip to keep
my tongue hidden as I pushed myself harder against the surface behind me.
Are you nervous? he whispered, extending a hand out to me; it was the same
motion from the night beforeor was it the night before that?when Liza had
unexpectedly shown up. He outlined the air around my face, never making any
contact with my skin. I stared at him with a deer in headlights expression, eyes wide
and unblinking. He must have enjoyed my discomfort because his grin spread further
on his face.
His hand ghosted down over my throat, to my plain pajamas shirt, where he finally
made contact. I jumped at the warmth of his hand, something I wasnt expecting with
the room being so cold to me. He ran his fingers down over my navel, toward my
crotch, and before I could get my brain to force my body to start moving again he

149

had wrapped his fingers around my member. The rocket in my chest burst into
fireworks.
S-stop, I gasped, snapping both hands down to wrap them around his wrist. I pulled
upward when his grip tightened on my shaft, sending prickles of electricity up my core.
Tingling warmth spread up my cock, towards the tip, and I gasped as his touch sent
my reawakened hormones into overdrive.
Say please, he ordered in a hushed tone, leaning in closer to me. As his head
hovered closer, I quickly jerked my face in the opposite direction and squeezed my
eyes shut, but since he had me by my dick the rest of my limbs refused to be
cooperative. I could have kicked, screamed, punched; I could have, I know I could
have, but the snake had me under his spell again.
Moisture touched my dry lips, and it definitely was not my own tongue because I had
shoved that poor pink muscle as far back into my cheek as I could. My eyes fluttered
open to see his face inches from mine, the warmth of his lips palpable as he licked at
my mouth. His hand suddenly tightened and slid up from the base of my cock, to the
tip, sending a shiver up my spine that had my mouth open in a gasp.
A cough came from behind Asher, but neither one of us turned to glance at it when
he suddenly shoved his tongue into my mouth. I tasted bourbon and Im sure he
tasted the sandwich I had devoured, though he didnt seem to mind. My jaws moved
together in a momentary drop of sanity, telling me to bite the slithering thing inside of
my mouth, but before any damage could be done Asher ran his finger over the tip of
my arousal. I gasped and he drove his body closer to me.
Ahem, the cough was forced, louder this time.
Asher recoiled with that amused smile still on his face, leaving me panting and in an
all-new state of shock. His hand slid out of my pants as he grabbed onto the corner of
the comforter still hanging limply from my shoulders to cover my lap with it. I didnt
notice that I was clutching at his shirt until he rocked his weight back to stand up.
The toothpaste will get the taste out, he grabbed the bag of toiletries I had tossed
away earlier, leaving it in front of me while he straightened himself out. A pat at his
clothes had the wrinkles out of the expensive fabric, and just like that he turned to
gracefully make his exit.
Fucker. I had an erection and he wanted me to go brush my teeth? Though I had to
hand it to him, I really did want to clean out my mouth now.
Michael is ready for you, Alrick frowned from the doorway. He must have been the
cougher. He said nothing about what he might have seen or not seen, considering
150

that Asher was blocking his view with his body, but he must have had a good idea
because he looked oddly uncomfortable. Asher gave him a nod before disappearing
through the doorframe, and his goon followed him.
I sat frozen by the fireplace, still panting and wide-eyed. My lips were still wet.
A shiver ran down my back again, setting goose bumps free all over my arms and legs
as I tried not to taste the lingering feel of Asher in my mouth. I snatched the white bag
in front of me with one hand and held the blanket with the other while I darted out of
the living room and up the stairs. I didnt run into anyone on my way up to the
bathroom, but I didnt exactly pause to look either.
As soon as the door was shut and locked behind me, I dropped the comforter to rip
open the bag with both hands. The toothbrush was snatched up, along with the
toothpaste, and I smeared the red substance across the bristles before shoving the
whole thing into my mouth. I gagged at the initial invasion, but I didnt slow down.
Vigorously I shoved the thing in and out of my mouth, scrubbing my teeth and tongue
clean until I couldnt taste the bourbon anymore. I avoided looking at the mirror.
Fuck, what was he going to do when he wanted me to wash my face? I pushed that
question out of my head as I rinsed my mouth out, over and over again. My woody
went down by the time I was done, thankfully, and all I had to do was to walk out of
the bathroomand right into Alrick. He was leaning against the wall a couple doors
down from where I stood, staring over the railing and toward the first floor. I resisted
following his gaze as I made my way toward him.
Get dressed, he mumbled when I got close enough, never making eye contact with
me. I suddenly felt so dirty.
What the hell, whats your problem? I snapped, reaching out to grab onto his elbow
when he shifted to walk past me. Whatd I do?
My cracking voice brought his blue eyes up to my face, and when he saw my
expression his own dissolved into one of understanding. He pushed a smile to his lips as
he reached out to pat my head with one of his hands, messing up my hair. Nothing,
kid. Go get dressed, Ill wait here.
I dont know what he saw on my face, but he was suddenly back to normal. I glared
at him for a few seconds longer than necessary before I slid into the room that was
designated for me, toward the closet. I stripped off my pajamas as quickly as I could
and changed into a new pair of jeans and a yellow shirt. I topped it off with a green
sweater that had a streak of gold on the chest spelling out a logo I didnt recognize.

151

Are you mad at me or something? I asked when I slid back out of the room, finding
Alrick staring off into space again.
Hmm? he blinked, tilting his head in my direction. No, a fake smile touched his lips.
You didnt do anything wrong. I didnt like the way he said that; there was still a hint
of accusation in his voice.
No, I didnt, so stop looking at me like that, I hissed angrily. I dont want to be here, I
didnt want to be there last night, and I didnt ask for any of this. If anything, youre at
fault for listening to Mr. Prickett, I paused, quickly furrowing my eyebrows as I leaned
toward him. Still think hes a good man?
Alrick flinched back, almost like I had physically stabbed him with my words; but the
following response was not what I expected. He smiled, really smiled, and again I
thought of the brainwashing academy. Yes, I do, he responded confidently.
Then youre just as fucked up as he is, I snarled.
Damn it, kid, hold on! he yelled after me as I charged down the stairs. I noticed
Michael and his friend in the kitchen from the corner of my eye when I rushed past the
opening, straight to the front door. I wrapped my hands around the handle and
tugged.
Nothing. In my haste, I had forgotten about the magical lock of doom. All the rules
and regulations in this house were driving me insane. Honestly, I wanted to scream,
maybe rip a few faces off. I kept tugging at the handle, rattling the latch, but the door
didnt budge. I wanted out. I just wanted to get out. The frustration I felt had me on
the brink of tears.
I smelled his bourbon before I saw him. He bent over me, extending his arm parallel to
mine as his hand closed over my shaking grip. The weight of his hand calmed the
tremble in my fingers, but the tension I felt by his body being so close to me cancelled
out that effect by driving me in the opposite direction. I pulled away from him, and he
was ready for me. His free hand wrapped around my torso, under my arm, where he
flattened his palm against my chest before pulling me up against his side. Breathe,
he whispered into my ear.
I exhaled on command, managing to push back the tears before they could escape.
How could anyone expect any more from me? As far as I saw it, I was handling this
fucked up situation with the utmost grace, but when I was continuously reminded that
everyone was against me it proved too much to keep my cool. I just wanted to crawl
into a dark hole and die. If I was left alone, that was probably what I would do. Even
now, I knew not just Asher but probably Alrick and Michael and even the nameless
dude were watching me.
152

His thumb grazed the back of my knuckles before it moved up to the latch, gliding
over the surface and pushing down on it. An audible click echoed to my ears, hinting
that the door was now open. Instinctively, I squeezed down to open the door, but
Asher didnt remove his grip.
Say thank you, his lips remained pressed against my ear, purposely taunting me.
Sadistic fuck, I gasped.
Say thank you, he repeated. As if to urge me on, he extended his tongue to run it
against the outer shell of my ear.
Thank you, I relented.
He released me as soon as I spoke, and I darted out of that house like a bat out of hell.
Past the stairs, the car, even the road, I ran all the way down to the black iron gates
before I even thought of stopping. I didnt pause to see if Alrick still planned on taking
me back, or if anyone had followed me, I made my way along the wall blocking the
premises off until I found a tree that branched over.
I felt like a runaway prisoner, and the guards were going to catch me at any moment.
Every second counted. So in the dim light of early morning I scrambled up the tree,
and the fact that I had never put on any shoes helped me find my way up the bark.
Sure, it hurt, but I could ground myself better when my toes curled in to balance me
out. As quickly as I could, I crawled across one of the thicker branches, leapt down to
the top of the wall, and then hopped over to the other side.
With nothing in sight except a road that stretched out for miles, I started running in the
direction I was driven in before. It didnt take long for the familiar black car to catch
up with me.
The passenger window whirred down as the vehicle slowed to a crawl, following me
while my spent legs receded from a run to a walk. I followed the stretch of the road as
I panted violently, trying to get the air back into my burning lungs.
Get in, Alrick called from the driver side.
Ill walk, I wheezed stubbornly.
Get in kid, Ill take you wherever you want, alright? Its miles before any civilization.
Come on, dont be stupid, he warned, which I didnt care about, but the concern I
heard urged me to glance at him.

153

Anywhere? My breath left me in heaves, hurried and strained.

Yes, anywhere you want.
I didnt want to, my dream had left an echo of panic behind that had me trembling
when the car stopped next to me. I knew those doors werent as sturdy as they
looked, that they could bend like paper with the right amount of force. I dont like
cars, I swallowed harshly.
The look on his face hinted that he already knew that. Alrick gave a sigh, then leaned
forward to grab the handle and pop the door open for me. Ill drive slowly, he
promised.
I stood in front of the open door until the cool morning breeze dried the sweat on my
back and chest. Finally, I closed my eyes and slid into the front seat. He did the honor
of closing my door and strapping my seatbelt into place for me, while I concentrated
solely on keeping my food in my stomach and my brain in check.
Alrick stuck to his word, driving at a measly pace of 30 mph, and even rolling the
windows down for me; I opened my eyes to check his speedometer when the easy
pace helped me settle into place. He kept the music off, which I appreciated, but I
was still too jumpy for my own good today. Every time we passed a tree that moved
too quickly because of the wind or even the occasional car, I would tense up or jump
with alarm. I felt like a fucking time bomb.
Tick, tick, tick.
Your shoes and jacket are in the back. Its going to get cold later today, my driver
spoke about half an hour later. The drive back to society was taking much longer than
necessary because of our speed, and thankfully he didnt seem to mind.
I took a glance back to confirm his statement, but I made no move to actually put
anything on. I didnt plan on making any sudden movements until the car had
stopped moving.
So where am I taking you? he asked after a few minutes.
The library, I mumbled, shifting my eyes out the window.
Oh? he chuckled, seemingly surprised by my request. Hmm, well the library doesnt
open until ten today, he went on. I glanced up then to survey the clock on the
dashboard, where green lights formed six and two zeros. As I watched it, the last zero
turned into a one.

154

What was I supposed to do for four hours?

You can come with me to visit Vincenzo, he suggested, reading my mind. That
wasnt really something I wanted to do. He wasnt happy to see me yesterday and he
wasnt going to be happy today.
No thanks.
It took us another hour and half to get back to the city. He upped the speed a bit
when he reached the streets with cars constantly behind us, but he never went fast
enough for me to freak out. I made a mental note to thank him later. Once we were
no longer in the middle of nowhere though, I found the need to get out of the car
escalate.
I can walk from here, I told him when he stopped at a red light.
Wait, he shoved a thumb down onto a button next to him, locking all the doors just
as I reached out to the handle beside me. Dont run off again. Ill stay with you until
the library opens, alright? Is there anywhere else you want to go?
No, I frowned, taking a moment to study him. He was being nice to me again,
something I should have valued, but I couldnt help but be suspicious after he
interacted so coldly with me.
How about a cup of coffee? On me.
I was sold almost instantly. Coffee? The nectar of the gods? I didnt want to go to
Anna to get my fix, and I had no money to get my own, so if Alrick was offering I might
as well take it, right? I tried to swallow my pride as I stared at him, thinking the situation
over. It was only a few dollars, he wouldnt be spending much, I wouldnt owe him
much
He seemed to read my mind again. Itll be my way of apologizing, he offered me an
excuse. He didnt expand on what he was apologizing about, and I didnt ask. It only
took a nod from me for him to smile again.
The car made an immediate right, a left at a green light, and inched into a parking
lot. I moved to grab the shoes in the back seat when the vehicle stopped completely,
shoving both pairs onto my cold feet. I wasnt going to take the jacket, but Alrick thrust
it into my arms before he got out of the car.
We made our way into a small coffee shop nearby with a green door and brown
writing on the front; Mr. Bean Coffee House, it read. I followed my driver inside as I
pulled the jacket on, my face instantly lighting up when the smell of crushed coffee
155

beans and fresh pastries filled my nose. There was a glass case just before the cashier,
filled with donuts, muffins, and recently made cookies. I trailed my hand across the
small window, consuming the snacks inside with my eyes. I was still hungry.
Two black coffees please, Alrick pulled out his wallet, fishing through his bills for the
correct one. He must have noticed me looking at the pastries, because he added a
cookie and croissant to his order.
And your name is? the cashier asked, pulling out a sharpie from her apron as she
turned the receipt over onto its back, ready to write the word given to her.
I saw something click on Alricks face, a piece of the puzzle that suddenly fell into
place. He gave me a quick glance before looking to the cashier, like he expected her
to answer for him. She hesitated, the pen wavering in her hand. Alrick, he finally
answered, and she scribbled something down.
He led the way down to an empty booth, sliding in on one side while I took up the
opposite space. I yawned tiredly as I slanted my body towards the people bustling
behind the counter. One of the girls turned to meet my gaze momentarily before
giving a small giggle and turning back to one of her coworkers. She whispered
discretely to the other girl, causing that one to throw a glance in my direction as well. I
frowned at her curiosity as I blinked my eyes away towards the signs overhead that
listed everything the coffee house offered. Their specialty of the day was Lemon
Muffins.
Hey kid, Alrick snapped his fingers at me, trying to grab my attention.
What? I arched both eyebrows as I turned my face back toward him.
Whats your name?
My train of thought came to a screeching stop. It kind of bothered me that he was
asking now, though it was probably better late than later. Muffin.
Muffin? he echoed in disbelief.
Yes.
Is that a nickname?

156

It wasnt like this was the first time someone didnt believe me, I knew it was a strange
name and that it didnt fit with the normbut Alrick? How weird was that name?
Yes, I sighed, giving a curt nod.
Oh. Whats your real name? he prodded further.
I dont remember, I smashed my jaws together. He noticed my spiking anger and for
a moment I thought he was going to back off. He didnt.
You dont remember
Nope, I lied. Of course I remembered, I remembered everything. My damned
memory was the cause of my ruin, but if I didnt want anyone to know then they
werent going to find out. Havent used it in years. Everyone calls me Muffin. If you
dont like it, dont call me.
Alright, he rocked back in his seat, moving away from the table just as one of the
counters attendants called out his name. He gave a small wave to her, summoning
her forth. The girl came over with a tray for us. She put down two big cups of coffee
down on the table, one in front of me and one in front of Alrick, before placing the
dessert down in a small plate in the center of the table.
Thank you, he displayed his manners while I rudely went on to devour my coffee. I
demolished the cookie and croissant, too. Did I mention I was hungry?
Slow down, youll choke, he advised. He didnt sound high and mighty like Asher,
which is probably the only reason I even listened to what he said, but he always
sounded so concerned. It was beginning to bother me.
Whats it to you? Fuck, stop mothering me, I lashed out.
He frowned at my harsh tone, giving a shake of his head. One of his hands stretched
up to run his fingers through his hair as he heaved a sigh in my direction. Sorry, sorry.
Youre right. I guess Im just projecting.
Projecting? What did that mean?
I swallowed the last bite of the cookie and gave a lick to my lips before speaking.
What? You got kids or something?
I wasnt expecting a yes. What kind of mobster had a kid? No, what kind of woman
would marry or carry the child of a mobster? I was still assuming, of course, that my
157

villains were all mobsters. If they werent going to tell me any different, I didnt mind
assuming the worst. But Alrick gave an apologetic smile and nodded.
You have kids? I asked again, in pure disbelief.
A daughter. She just turned five last month, he grinned proudly, the way only a
parent could.
I almost dropped my cup of coffee almost. Immediately, I wanted to ask what her
name was; after that, my thoughts burst into millions of little lights that floated off in
opposite directions. Where? What? Why? How could he do this job when he had a kid,
and maybe a wife, waiting for him at home? I thought back to what Asher said about
the two men he had lost, the ones with families that would be wondering where they
were when they didnt show up.
Whats her name? I decided on the safest question.
Leah, his grin grew larger. Instantly he reached down into his jackets pocket, pulling
out his wallet again. With two careful fingers, he pulled out a picture that he flattened
onto the table and turned in my direction. I consequently recalled the cops and their
yellow envelope. Shes got my eyes, he gloated, bringing me back from the depths
of my thoughts. I picked up the small wallet sized picture to study it as I took another
sip of my beloved coffee.
She was adorable; there was no question about that. Most kids are adorable if you just
look at them. Personally I hate kids, I find them annoying, loud, and a hassle. Leah
smiled up at me from her headshot, her platinum blonde hair pulled up into one high
ponytail and her big blue eyes filled with wonder. I pondered briefly what she would
look like if she had seen what I saw.
Cute. I slid the picture back to him when I felt nausea hit me. Looking at the
innocence on her face brought forth too many memories, too many feelings. I had
enough to deal with now, I didnt need anything to creep up from the past.
Thank you, he beamed, gathering up his precious picture and stuffing it back into his
wallet. My eyes followed his hand as he replaced the thing back into his pocket, out of
sight and out of mind.
What does she think when she sees you hurt?
Those words werent supposed to come out. I realized that I was steadily building a
habit of vocalizing my thoughts without thinking them through first. It was a bad habit; I
already knew it was going to end up getting me into more trouble than I was worth.

158

Sure enough, Alrick looked upset by my question. She doesnt, thankfully. She lives
with her mom in Seattle, I only see her once a month. That was way too much
information. Why was he telling me about his life? I didnt want to know, I didnt want
to connect or bond or have a moment with him. He meant nothing to me. He wasnt
my friend and I didnt want to be his friend. But then, why didnt I stop him from
continuing? I try to see her once a month, anyway. Sometimes I cant, but shes such
a good girl, she understands that Daddy is working. He sounded so horribly
depressed, and I could tell he missed her.
Oh, I gulped, resting my cup back on the table.
Sorry, you probably didnt want to hear that much, he chuckled.
Its fine, I turned my head away, back towards the girls behind the counter. I caught
them looking at me again. They both grinned and turned away, back whispering to
each other.
About two more hours, Alrick tapped at the surface of his wristwatch, letting me
know indirectly that it was eight oclock. Should we go get you a decent haircut?
I wrinkled my nose into my face at the suggestion and mindlessly my hand flew up to
my hair. My fingers ran through the tortured strands, down along the edges, pushing
my bangs out of my face where the jagged edges poked into my cheeks. I knew it
looked choppy and awkward, but was I supposed to care? It wasnt like I was trying to
look my best for someone.
Come on, itll be fun. Theres a place right next to here, he tried to sway me. It
wasnt working.
I dont need or want one, I mumbled stubbornly.
Actually you do need one, and, he paused, giving another glance to his watch. Itll
be a good way to waste time. The bonus is, if you do it with me Asher wont make you
do it later.
Make me?
I buried my teeth into my lower lip as I shoved my face into my hands, able to feel the
frustration crawl back up my spine. It could have been an empty threat, but at this
point I didnt doubt that the creep was capable. He would probably hunt me down to
get me to cut my hair, or put out a hit on someone that could. He does get what he
wants, though, Alricks earlier statement echoed in the back of my head.
Fine, I sighed, pushing myself up to my feet.
159

He looked pleased with himself as he directed me out of the coffeehouse, down to

the other side of the parking lot where a Sallys Hair Salon was just opening. Alrick
spoke with the lady behind the cashier while I studied the posters around the store, at
the pretty happy people that flaunted their hair with a toss of their head. Whatever. I
planned on taking a nap in the chair while some poor idiot had to deal with my hair.
Over here, sweetie! a woman called out from my right. I turned away from a picture
of a blonde chick running her fingers through her silky hair to survey the one that had
called me. She was a plump old woman, with a new in bob that flattered her face
but did nothing for her body. I followed her beckoning finger to an empty chair in the
front, and she sat me right down in front of the mirror.
My eyes were still bloodshot, more pink now than red. I could see the cuts on my face,
where band-aids no longer protected them. They must have fallen off in the shower or
when I dried off. My hair was clean, but fell in clumps because the scissors had crudely
cut it at an angle. The stylist looked a bit annoyed when she ran her fingers through my
hair at fragments where the length inconsistently dipped in and out. I might have
struggled a bit when Asher was cutting off my ponytail. So? Who wouldnt?
Did we experiment at home? she laughed lightheartedly.
No. I was held down against my will while savages broke off the strands one by one.
What the hell do you think? Shut up and do your job, I seethed, startling the stupid
woman.
Alrick quickly apologized on my behalf while I sulked in the chair, angry at the
reflection in front of me. I hated looking at that face, I didnt want it to belong to me
and every time I saw it I got pissed off. There was nothing appealing in the face in front
of me. Asher was on drugs.
As my driver offered some bullshit excuse for my inappropriate behavior, I sighed and
crossed my arms over my chest. The woman asked something about length and he
answered. I wasnt listening anymore; I let my mind drift far away, past cars and water
and dead dogs and missing role models. I thought of the content world I had with my
muffins, coffee, and diner. I barely felt the cloth wrapped around my neck, the spray
of water on my head, or the comb when it ran through my hair. I thought of favorite
colors, movies, and video games. I thought of strummed guitar strings, of hot
chocolate and warm fire. I thought of my Mom. She laughed, and hugged me. She
danced to unheard music. Her hair was so soft against my face. Her lips parted in a
shrill scream and her eyes grew wide with terror as she reached out towards me. Water
washed over her.

160

My eyes flew open, soaring forward to the familiar green pair that stared back at me.
The beat of my heart was audible in my ears, rapping against my eardrums. The stylist
behind me was too focused on fixing the back of my hair to notice the look of horror
on my face, and I didnt see Alrick anywhere.
Are you done yet? I growled.
Almost, she frowned at me through the reflection of the mirror.
She was giving me a shaggy surfers haircut. I looked absolutely ridiculous. The length
was pretty much the same, still near my shoulders, but she had cleaned up the
choppy sides by heavily layering it. My hair was straight enough for her to get away
with so many layers, but I felt like a stupid pretty boy.
Just cut it all off, my voice burst in a snarl.
Excuse me? she gasped.
Buzz cut. Shave it.
Its fine the way it is, Alricks voice came from the back of the room. He stepped up
into my line of sight, near the woman, a slight smile on his lips. He held a cardboard
coffee cup in his hand, which made me wonder how long Id been sitting there and
zoning out. You look good, it suits the shape of your face.
Go play out your Daddy syndrome on someone else. I dont need your opinion. I
know I look like a fucking prude, I huffed indigently.
I apologize for his behavior. You know how teenagers are in the morning. Oh, could
you cut his bangs a bit shorter? he pointed to my face, where my bangs fell past my
cheeks.
No, I hissed as I jerked away from her scissors, and her hand. Im done, okay? Jesus
fucking Christ, go torture someone else. With one hand I jerked the Velcro of the cloth
clinging to my neck off of me, then turned to toss it on the floor. My hair looked
cleaner, but not any shorter, so when I stepped past the masses of dark clumped
strands on the floor I told myself that they didnt belong to me.
Kid! Ah, Muffin! Hold on, where are you going? his voice faded as I made my way
out of the salon. It looked like I was developing a habit of walking away from Alrick,
too. I knew he had to stay behind to pay for my haircut so I took advantage of that
time to make my escape. I shoved my hands into my jackets pockets as I turned
toward the sidewalk, allowing the cold breeze to dry my damp hair while I pulled into

161

a speed-walk. The wallet reminded me of its presence when my fingers brushed

against the rectangular shape.
I caught the faint click of a camera just as I was about to cross the street, and I
doubled back in time to catch sight of a suspicious vans window rolling back up.
You really need to stop running off! Alrick panted when he caught up with me. I
stood rooted to my spot, glaring at the unwanted car. Its hey, whats wrong?
That car, I accused.
What about it?
What if its the cops?
Cops?
Great, so Asher hadnt told him. Well if he hadnt, I wasnt going to. Nothing, never
mind. Im going to the library.
Its not open yet, he informed while keeping pace with me. Before I could tell him I
didnt care, he pulled out something from his pocket and handed it off to me. Here.
It was a tube of cherry chapstick for my continuously drying lips. Had Asher told him
about that, or did I really lick my lips way too much?
Thanks, I said for once, and I did it voluntarily. I felt dumbfounded by his small
gesturebeyond the shoes, the new clothes, the wallet with money, the delicious
food, it was the stupid chapstick that made me appreciative. If I wasnt crazy, I dont
know who was. I quietly pocketed the tube, choosing not to use it in front of Alrick or
whoever else might be watching. Bye.
Where are you going?
I told you, Im going to the library. Oh god, was he developing selective listening
too?
I can drive you? I couldnt tell if it was a question or a statement.
No, thats nice, but no thanks. I quickly turned to glance over my shoulder at the
van that was pulling away before I looked back at him. Look I agreed to the coffee
and haircut, didnt I? Give me a break. I want to walk, to clear my head. Ill be fine.

162

He hesitated, not quite persuaded by my argument, but as I stubbornly glared at him

he eventually gave me a nod in agreement. I didnt give him a chance to change his
mind. As soon as he reached into his pocket for his keys, I turned to illegally cross the
street. It might not have been the best idea, considering how I had just told him that I
would be fine and then went barreling headfirst into a fistful of traffic; so when I got
to the other side, I gave him a nod. He looked horrified, from what I could see, which I
found amusing considering his lifestyle.
While he watched me, I calmly strolled down the street. I knew my destination and I
didnt mind walking all the way there. I didnt really want to clear my head, if anything
I wanted to fill it up until there was no more room to think about anything. The coffee
did wonders in clearing my head, though that didnt mean I would have passed up a
nap anytime soon.
By the time I got to the library, it was open to the public. I instantly made my way
inside, and the workers didnt give me any shit with my new haircut and attire. I was
just like everyone else now, nothing to worry about. The structure of the large building
was familiar to me, it didnt take me long to find what I was looking for. Not many
people were present either, so most of the computers were free. Now I knew I wasnt
going to get any answers from my villains, asking them was just a waste of my time.
So I opened a search engine and typed in my keywords: Asher Pickett.

163

I got over 32, 981,002 results.

I thought that I had misspelled the name, so I double-checked it. When all the Ps and
Rs and Ts were in place, I tried again. Same results.
Okay so maybe it was just a popular name?
I clicked on the first link at the top, which read Pickett Industries. My screen went black,
momentarily taking my cursor with it, and then with a flash the letters I remember
seeing on the large building popped up in quick succession to spell out the familiar
name. Pickett.
A loading bar rolled across the bottom of the screen as the silver letters wavered up
and down, taunting me with their dance. As soon as the site had loaded, music
blasted from the computers built in speakers. I had to scramble to shut the volume
offand it was a Mac, so thankfully all I had to do was jam my finger down onto the
button with the picture of a little speaker that had no lines next to it. I got the
occasional glare from those near me, but I ignored them as I glanced over the new
menu on the right.
Real Estate? Hotels? I ran my cursor over each link, watching the little letters light up for
me. Casino Resorts? Every link I hovered over opened a new menu that led to even
more choices, most of which I couldnt connect with the Asher in my head. I retraced
my steps to the results page, and chose the next link.
To my surprise, most of the results led to the biography of an Alexander Levi Pickett. It
wasnt until the fourth link about him that I actually skimmed over it to find that he had
started the Pickett Industries when he was younger, married a Marie Emerson in his late
twenties, and that the name of their son was Asher. Was that the same Asher? I
backtracked again, this time shifting my searches from text to images.
My doubt was instantly erased by the familiar face in the pictures that popped up one
by one, each one catching Asher at an angle. There were perhaps two that he might

164

have posed for on the first page, and one of them was with Liza. Ugh, I felt sick. I
clicked on that image and it led me to some bullshit site about premieres. Who cared?
I went back again to troll through his pictures further, finding more and more of him in
exotic looking places, in front of planes, leaving buildings, entering hotels. I suddenly
understood why Anna and everyone in her diner recognized him; apparently he was
well known.
How out-of-the-loop was I? It was almost like not knowing who the President was!
Come to think of it
Wait, this didnt make sense. If he was some famous kid of a famous millionaire, why
was he out in the streets killing people?
Killing dogs, anyway.
And abusing people. He was definitely abusing people. Like me. I went back to my
text search, going through the links to find out more about him.
His dad died years ago, but his mom was still alive. She ran one of the branches of the
family business in San Francisco. No siblings? Nope, only child. Not married. Not dating.
One site said he had green eyes, the other promised blue. Light brown hair. I would
have said lighter. Born on December 30th. Twenty-eight years old? Wow he was
practically a decade older than me.
Everything on him was clean, and by clean I mean there was nothing about killings or
shootings or gang activity. The only violent thing on him was when some mysterious
kid found him in an alleyway bleeding to deathit took me a few minutes to realize
that mysterious kid was me.
What about everything else? The explosion? The people downtown with guns and the
car that bashed my beloved dog? What about those? Did money have so much
power that they could cover up whatever the fuck they wanted? I shivered at the
thought of my own demise; my body probably wouldnt even be found. I assured
myself that there were some honest cops out there, honest reporters and decent
people that wanted to get the truth to everyone. Surely someone would.
I tried a new search, adding conspiracies to the end of his name. Only 355,000 results
this time, and I clicked on the first one; it was something stupid about hotel taxes and
a loophole in the papers. No, no, no! That wasnt what I wanted! I hit the back button
and scrolled down, skimming the links. Nothing. There was nothing about crime,
corruption, thievery, murder and then, I saw it, a site on the seventh page that
mentioned the real life of Asher Pickett. I quickly clicked.

165

The HTTP 404 Page cannot be found haunted me. A shiver trembled down my back
as I heard a chair screech against the floor.
You wont find anything, someone spoke.
I lurched up in surprise, sending the mouse spiraling away from my grip as I spun
around in my chair to find the redhead cop from last night. He sat in a chair that
wasnt there before, leaning toward me with his elbows on his knees. Was this Agent
Montero or Ruddy? Asher had never made clear which was which when he greeted
them.
You were following me! I gaped.
Perceptive.
More like you suck at your job. Arent you FBI guys supposed to be sneaky?
You watch too many movies, kid. Were not secret agents, we gather intelligence,
he sighed at my ignorance, shifting in his seat to lean against the back support.
Right, hence the I part in FBI. Maybe I did watch too many movies when I was
younger, but my pool of reference also came from books. Anna never let me watch
TV shows and if I watched a movie it was buffered by her first or Zack snuck me out to
see it, but other than that my life consisted mostly of books. And in those books, the
cops always tried to be sneaky. They failed, but at least they tried.
I didnt know why I kept comparing Asher and company, even the cops, to movies
Ive seen probably because I didnt know how to deal with the situation otherwise. It
wasnt every day that stuff like this happened, and I was just having a hard time
wrapping my head around it all. Gangsters who arent really gangsters and cops that
blackmail for pity information didnt fit the scale of the movies or life either, though. I
kept going in circles.
You listening? he grunted, clearly unaccustomed to someone zoning out on him. I
needed to stop doing that.
No. So take the hint, I said as I swirled in my seat, back to the blank page in front of
me that claimed the site I was looking for didnt exist. Wait, I jerked back, glancing
at him over my shoulder. What did you mean? Why wont I find anything?
He smirked when he realized he had something to hold over me, a string to tug me
along with until he had me right where he wanted. I tried not to call him a bastard as
he looked to the computer screen, purposely letting the silence drag on. I really hated
people.
166

Theyre careful, they wouldnt leave any leaks behind, or even rumors. We are too,
he paused, spiking my curiosity further. Just as I was about to ask, he continued, We
try to keep away any information that we dont want in the media. If they think no
ones onto them, theyre more likely to slip. They know were watching them, just not
how close. But like I said, theyre very careful. He slanted in his chair, draping one arm
over the wooden backing as he turned his head to glance behind him. Was he
expecting someone to be there? He looked back to me once the coast was
determined to be clear. Which is why youre such an interesting case. You should be
dead.
He didnt know the half of it.

I felt my blood run cold as he gave me a quick look over, probably trying to judge my
reaction. It took a lot not to let anything slip away. I was an extreme head case just
then, but with the power of coffee I managed to settle down before my mind
exploded.
Dead, I echoed the last word, trying not to focus on the sour taste it left in my mouth.
Yes, dead. I know youve seen more than youre letting on.. His eyes fluttered over
my face, over the cuts and scabs that were no longer hidden. Which means that you
know enough for them to want to take you out of the picture. Now can you tell me
why they havent?
Somehow, Im Ashers guest didnt fit this question.
Nor did Asher owes me his life or Asher thinks he owns me. Every answer that I had
been given directly didnt fit and in all reality I should have been dead. Multiple times.
But I tried a different answer all together: Maybe because I really <i>dont</i> know
anything.
Im not stupid, kid.
You could have fooled me, I scoffed.
His hand came out in a flash, knocking against the right side of my face and sending
my head flying to the side. About ten heads turned simultaneously to gaze in the
direction of the loud sound of impact that reverberated within the large building. I
rocked against my chair as it rolled backward to the computer table, slanting with my
weight.

167

Now I know I have a knack of pissing people off, but for once I wasnt expecting such
a harsh reaction. I hadnt even said anything cruel. I worked a practiced grin to my
face when I turned to look back at the redhead. Bad cop looked angry enough,
smug too, he most likely thought he had put me in my place. Idiot.
Real smart, I taunted him when a librarian steadily approached us, a concerned
look on her face. He took that as his cue to leave, and just when she reached me he
got up to walk in the opposite direction. I was glad, even though my face really
stungthe fucker hadnt held backbecause since he had to take his exit it meant
he wasnt going to be asking me any more questions.
Are you alright? the librarian bent over me to take a quick look at my face before
she glared after the cop. I nodded to put her mind at ease, and she quietly turned to
follow my attacker outside.
Why did people keep zooming in and out of my life?
Before the librarian could come back to find me, I clicked out of my search and
slipped away from the computer section completely. I stopped at one of the printers
to grab a sheet of paper and a pencil, and then continued to the stacks of books
towards the right side of the library. The place was big enough for me to find a table
with no one else around and plenty of privacy.
I needed to set my thoughts down on paper; otherwise I would never be able to sort
them out. So I started in the center of the plain sheet, writing my damned villains
name and drawing a quick circle around it. Thats where all my problems started, so
thats where I was going to start.
Originally Ashers only link to me was that I saved his life, so I jotted that down. I
crossed the line out as soon as I had written it because according to his logic I was the
one in debt. I wrote that down, then <b>guest</b> right under it. He kept calling me
his guest, after all. Now what? What else was there? From the beginning it seemed like
he was only dealing with me out of some sort of twisted civic duty, he hadnt shown
any real interest in me until
The sound of water splashed in the back of my head. He hadnt shown interest until he
gave me his own special CPR, until the dirt had been washed off my face when I was
dunked into the cold ocean water. I thought back to his statement regarding my lips,
how I was visually appealing, how Alrick called me cute and my hand flew up to my
face. Oh god, did he like me?
The hand holding the pencil had written out my face on the paper beneath an
underlined me without my permission. When I noticed it, I quickly scribbled it out until
it was a yarn ball of black graphite.
168

I felt so dense. I never thought of that possibility, it didnt quite make sense to me.
When he took advantage I thought that was exactly what he was doing, just taking
something in front of him because it was there not because he wanted it; just like I did
with the water. I didnt want it, but I was thirsty, so I drank it.
But I didnt chase after water. I didnt try to take water under my wing and make it a
better personokay so maybe that was a bad metaphor, after all water and I had a
whole nother issue with each other. Still, it didnt make sense for Asher to like me. I
was a jerk to him and he was a bastard right back. And there was no way he thought I
was attractive I wasnt pretty. Liza was pretty. Not me.
My thoughts immediately jumped to the grinning workers in the coffeehouse, to Liza
calling me a girl, to Michael calling me a princess. Did I look feminine? I didnt think
so. I ran my fingers down over my jaw line, over my cheeks, up to my nose, trying to
figure out if there was something there I hadnt noticed before. The motion reminded
me of Ashers nibbling, how his teeth grazed the skin and bone simultaneously when
he bit at my jaw.
Familiar warmth tingled in my crotch. Fuck. I thickened the layer of graphite on the
word that previously read face with more scribbles, until my pencils tip tore right
through the paper.
I felt like the little girl that goes to her mom to tell her about the boy in school that
keeps pulling her pigtails, and what does the mom say? It because he likes you,
honey. What a crock of masochistic shit. From the beginning our society tells us that
we should be okay with violence, then they get outraged when rape happens! Well
we planted the seeds, fuckers, time to reap the sowhat was I thinking?
My right hand smashed a palm into my forehead as I switched the pencil to my left,
going back to my pathetic mind-map. So physical attraction was definitely not an
option. I branched off from the mess of scribbles to start new bubbles under the new
subheading of me; personalityokay, I admit I should have just written attitudeskill
and intelligence, which were the only possible reasons anyone would like me.
Of course I crossed out personality first. Next to go was intelligence, there was
nothing special about mine, and I had no real skills so the last one went out the
window too. I was about to pull a fourth category out of my ass when disturbing news
reached me.
Im so glad we finally got some rain! Its so pretty!
I tensed up in my seat as two girls came around the corner; one of them peeling a
drenched coat off her arms and the other waiting patiently with books in her hands.
169

Rain? I barked, snapping their attention to me.

Uh yeah. Its raining outside, the dripping girl blinked in my direction with flagrant
hesitation.
Rain? Rain. No, no, no, no, I gasped as I shot out of my seat, leaving my paper and
pencil behind in my hurry to dart past the bookshelves and get to the first window I
could find. My hands slammed against the clear surface, palms flattened out, and my
forehead soon followed while my eyes stared in horrified disbelief out to the street. It
was not only raining, it was pouring cats and dogs.
FUCK! I screamed, my anger spike startling several people around me. I wouldnt
have cared if the same librarian from before hadnt immediately turned to head in my
direction. What was she, the library police? Jesus lady, get a life.
Young man? Can I help you? Is there something the matter? she asked in a polite,
quiet tone.
YEAH THERE IS! I slammed my hand down against the window, toward the drops of
water falling from the sky. Its raining!
The look on her face screamed confusion, which only pissed me off more. She didnt
understand, and why should she? It wasnt like everyone had a fucked up relationship
with water like I did. Nevermind, I hissed just as she opened her mouth to speak.
Maybe my outburst didnt make sense to others, but the fact of the matter was that I
was stuck. I wouldnt be able to leave until the rain let up.
I grumbled all the way back to table and when I sat down to pick up where I started I
noticed a new word that wasnt there before. Someone that enjoyed curling their Cs
had drawn a line from the <b>me</b> subheading to a new bubble that read
Cute. My blood boiled.
Suddenly my eyes swam about in a mission to find the cruel person that thought it
would be a funny joke to not only read my messy mind-map, but also write something
unreasonable on it. Though as far as I could see, no one else was around my
immediate area. I felt the beginnings of what could become a seriously irritating
headache rage behind my eyes, thumping rhythmically with the anger that had my
heart pumping twice as fast. I wasnt cute, I had never been cute, I was always the
awkward kid no one knew what to do with, I was always the one that got passed
around, that no one adopted.

170

I rapped my fingers against my forehead, once again reverting to counting

backwards from ten in my head as I took in deep, full breaths. Freaking out now was in
no ones interest, especially not mine, I needed to stay focused so I could get out of a
mess I didnt quite understand.
I flipped the paper around to the back, the blank side, and started a whole new
chart. It started once again with Ashers name, but I didnt put myself under it this time.
I wanted to figure out what his business was, <i>why</i> he was out on the street doing
god knows what if he was some zillionaire. Alrick insisted he was a good man, and
even Vincenzo seemed to have blind faith in him so what was he? Some sort of
vigilante? Like... Batman?
How awkward would that be?
After I wrote down boat, suitcase, guns and strangers, I found that I had
nowhere else to go. It only occurred to me then that I could have just asked Bad cop
what kind of shit Asher was into. Fuck I felt stupid, and so so tired. Everything kept
coming to me in slow motion, after the obvious hints had already fluttered past my
eyes. Usually I prided myself in catching onto subtle clues, hints and even fluctuation in
stories that meant people were lying, but lately I just downright sucked. I could have
blamed it on the lack of sleep, shock, depression, but all I kept thinking about was how
Asher was completely ruining my life. Even now I couldnt stop thinking about the
creepy bastard. What was he doing? Where was he? Most likely he was ordering
someone around with his hollow voice, or striking fear into mere mortals with his lifeless
eyes, maybe even kissing someone with his warm, moist lips.
The pencil in my grip cracked in two due to unnecessary pressure, snapping halfway
down the middle where my thumb and middle finger had unthinkingly squeezed on it.
The sharp sound and the whiplash against my hand brought my wandering mind right
back to the piece of paper in front of me, with Ashers name written in large letters at
the top. I hated my brain. I couldnt believe these thoughts kept popping into my
head, and not only that I kept feeling my body react. The rich bastards touch was still
vividly fresh in my minddue to all that lack of sleep, I told myself.
Or maybe it was because he had stolen my first sexual experience.
With both hands I snatched the paper up, balling it up into a mess of wrinkled folds as
the broken pieces of the pencil rolled away from me. The table must have had a slant
because both fragments spun right off the edge and toppled to the floor. I followed
the movement of the fall while I stood away from my chair, the paper clasped tightly
in my palm. The rhythmic beat of plunging water grew louder when I moved away
from the tables and towards the front where several trashcans sat beside the
checkout aisles.

171

I hated water. More than that, it was cold outside, another factor that threatened my
ultimate victory. I could stand warm water, if it was in controlled amounts or in a
controlled environment, but cold water falling in sheets like that was way too much for
me to handle. I distanced myself from the windows as much as I could, and
considering my unusual circumstances I decided to make use of my time. After all, I
was in a library, why not read a book?
Shamefully, my first thought was to pick up a book on sex. Disgraceful, I know, but I
had a feeling that my lack of knowledge in that field was going to come back to
haunt me, especially if Asher got his paws on me againbut then did I really plan on
ever seeing him again? No. Nope. So there was no need to worry! Wait, worry? Why
was I worried? I couldnt be, not worried if anything I was merely curious.
I lost my nerve the moment I stepped into the Sex and Sexuality section, when I
noticed a whispering couple sitting against one of the bookcases with a stack of
books in between them. Before they noticed me I whizzed around to the other side
and continued on down the aisles until I didnt know where I was anymore. I
backtracked until I could see topic names again and I made an immediate left into
the Fantasy section. Reading about warlocks, witches and gnomes sounded so much
better than dealing with my own personal problems. All I had to do was get lost in a
book and I could stop thinking about Asher and his crazy companions. Thats what I
hoped for, anyway.
The first book worked, it was short and I blew through it without a stitch. It wasted a
good couple of hours, but when I checked on the window I found that the rain hadnt
let up. The next book was a bit harder to get through; the dragon suddenly morphed
into a clich, beautiful male model and just as I started to think about whether Asher
was beautiful or not, I stuffed the book back into the correct shelf. The third book was
another easy read, and the main character continuously ate pumpkins that made me
crave Pumpkin Muffins. The fourth book had me bored to tears, but the vocabulary
was advanced and kept my mind boggled long enough to avoid thinking about
anything else including the time. I forced my way through those pages until my
burning eyes could no longer follow the sequence of words.
Exhaustion tugged at my muscles, knocking on my bones. The exertion of my run from
the morning had a harsh effect on my legs, as well as my torso, but more than that I
felt a hollow ache in my skull. I couldnt tell if it was the wounds on my face or the
headache from before, all I knew was that I needed to put my head down; so I did. I
curled up against the bottom row of books and curled my knees into my stomach for
warmth as I cuddled my book against my chest. It was so easy to fall asleep.
Not as easy to stay asleep.

172

A range of images smacked against my subconscious the moment I was under,

shoving red, blue and purple in my face; blood, bruises, aches and pains I didnt want
to remember. Fragments burst into mini-movies that erupted from one subject to the
next like the toppling pieces of a well-constructed domino pattern. A faint chime from
far away triggered a familiar screech of tires that led to glass breaking, water rushing
in, screams and gurgles that sounded so much like pleading.
I didnt wake up screaming, I never did, even when I was a kid I just woke up in a
daze. Nightmares werent anything new to me, but I hadnt had any for the past four
years or so and for it all to come back like this It was unsettling, to say the least.
It was still raining, I didnt need to get up off the floor to know that. I could hear the
loud rattling against the windows, the roof, and I felt the cold breeze every time
someone walked in through the front door. I must have been thinking of Asher in some
part of my dream because while I was waking up I came to the foggy conclusion that
my earlier assumptions didnt make sense; Asher couldnt be physically attracted to
me.
It didnt seem that way anyway. Every time hed touched me sexually he was trying to
get me to do something, whether it be to snap me out of shock or get me to say
thank you or to brush my teeth, he always did it to spur me into action. So it was
teasing, then? And I didnt look like a girlwhich was stupid to begin with, if one were
to like girls, why not just do girls? He had Liza, after all.
I was rambling again.
My muscles groaned in protest as I pushed myself up off the floor, up into a sitting
position. I didnt know how I felt about having him be the first thing on my conscious
mind when I woke up, or what it meant. I stretched one hand back to grab at my
shoulder, using my thumb to gently knead at the tense muscle beside my neck as I
trained my eyes onto the deliberate picture of a young hero fighting off the firebreathing dragon. Was Asher my dragon?
Why couldnt I stop thinking about him?
I pressed both eyes shut to focus on the movement of my own hand against my
shoulder, pressing more vigorously with my fingertips. It hurt and felt good at the same
time, such a strange sensation that I doubted could be replicated elsewhere. If I
pushed at just the right angle, I got a wash of relief that rippled in tingles all the way
down my arm.
Young man? Young man! a shrill voice snapped me out of relaxed coma, urging me
to open my eyes. I glanced up to a wrinkled face of a shriveled man, his nose
scrunched in distaste against his facial features like he had smelled something
173

absolutely sour. For a moment I thought I was covered in muck again. Did you not
hear the announcement? The library is closed!
That must have been the chime I heard, probably a librarian telling all the lost sad
souls in the library to clear the premises. I always thought it was ridiculous that libraries
closed at all; why would you put a time limit on knowledge and education?
I sneered up at the strangers face as I dropped both hands down to the floor and
pushed myself up to my feet. I didnt bother putting the book I was reading back into
its appropriate shelf, he could do that himself if he was going to be such an ass.
When I turned the corner I noticed that many of the lights were already getting
switched off, and only two people were in sight. One stood impatiently by the door,
holding it open for me while I took my goddamn time crossing the distance. I wasnt
very excited about leaving the warm, quiet library to step out into the cold world that
couldnt give two shits about me.
Goodnight! the woman huffed triumphantly when she swung the door shut behind
me, switching the latch right into place. Really? I was literally the last one out?
I fiddled with the zipper of the jacket when an icy gust sank into my pores, rushing
through the double layer of my attire to stab at my chest. As I shoved my hands into
my pockets, I felt the presence of the wallet again, still heavy and laced with money
that didnt belong to me. The fact that I was resisting the cash when I had taken the
food, clothing and shelter offered from Asher now nagged me; why not go that last
step? But no, I couldnt. I was going to return the clothes to him when I got some of my
own, and Id pay him back for the food one way or another. And the shelter? Well
that was downright kidnapping so he could just suck it up.
I pulled both hands out again to defy the existence of the wallet further. The sheets of
water were now coming at an angle, so I flipped the hood of my green sweater up
over my head to cover as much of my body as I could. The moment my hand fell
back to my side, I instinctively reached out for the fur beneath the bandana.
It was that hollow feeling that greeted me, the sinking one felt when both feet are
walking up the stairs in the dead of night with nothing to see, and the brain promises
that there are eleven steps but when the right foot comes down after the tenth there is
nothing but air. For a moment, it feels like the entire world just moved, and for that
moment the hollow feeling turns the stomach. That exact sensation overwhelmed me
when I realized that Porto wasnt beside me.
Trekking through the god-awful rain to find some decent shelter suddenly didnt seem
worth the effort. I moved back into one corner of the librarys entrance, still beneath
the cover of the buildings structure. I huddled against the wall as I sank down the
174

length to the floor and quickly curled in on myself like a lonely little cat. How ironic was
it then that all I wanted was my dog.
I must have sat there for hours, though it could have only been minutes. The glare of
headlights rounded the corner at a furious speed, but if it werent for the loud screech
of tires as water splashed up the library steps I wouldnt have given the stopping car a
second glance. The driver door flew open as soon as I fixed my eyes onto the outline
of the deathtrap beneath the glow of a streetlight.
It was the glaring guy.
He looked absolutely exasperated as he charged up the stairs with nothing but blind
rage in his eyes. I thought he would charge right past me, but he came to an abrupt
stop and swooped down like a hawk just as my brain kicked into fight or flight mode.
More like flight mode, extreme flight mode.
THERE you are! he grinned smugly when he got a hold of my hoodie, pulling both on
fabric and hair to get me up on my feet just as I posed my body to run. Alrick said he
dropped you off at the library but I didnt think youd still be here. Lady lucks on my
side tonight!
Lady luck? That was kind of sexist, wasnt it? It could have very easily been Dude Luck,
and if it was the alliteration that was desired, Lord Luck sounded just as cool. But why
was I thinking over the sexism of his statement when it looked like he was about to kill
me?
What the fuck! I screamed the moment my thoughts caught up with the situation.
He was jerking me down the stairs, towards his car, and my stomach flipped at the
idea of getting inside the vehicle with so much water around us. Never mind how the
rain was already wetting my face, but a car? No, I couldnt do that. Let go, you son
of a bitch! LET GO! FUCK! I DONT WANT TO GO BACK!
Michael suddenly froze, half posed in throwing me in through the open door of his car,
half frozen in what could have looked like a stance preluding a punch. Who said
anything about going back? he seethed at me, making a curt turn that led around
the length of the car. There was something familiar about this deathtrap, something
about the lights and the front bumper. I turned to glance at the license plate as I was
pulled towards the back of the library steps.
Well what the fuck are you doing then? Taking me for a walk? This is really not the
best way to woo me, the moon isnt even out, I twisted around to grumble at him
once the license number had been burned into my brain.

175

His fist smashed into the side of my head at an incomprehensible speed. Water
splashed off my face, joining its fallen brothers in their descent to the floor as I too
plunged downward. The splatter of a puddle had my hands completely soaked and
freezing in a matter of seconds, but that icy cold embrace held nothing against the
explosion of pain that engulfed my stomach. I quickly curled my arms up over my
head, my face, protecting what I could as Michael repeatedly buried the toe of his
shoe into my abdomen.
What was he doing? What had I done? And why did people keep hitting me today
over the stupidest comment? I had such better material.
Shut up you stupid shit! SHUT UP! he screamed when groans of pain my brain didnt
register slid out from my lips. His foot relentlessly assaulted my stomach, and when I
curled my knees up to protect myself he kicked at my legs, my calves, my arms, my
head. I finally worked up enough courage to defend myself when the pain grew too
much to bare; I threw one hand out to grab onto his foot as soon as it next came, and
just as I was about to hug it against my body so it couldnt drive into me again his
other foot flew at my face.
I rolled onto my back, the throbbing in my skull blasting shards of agony out to the rest
of my body. The first thing I noticed, past the pain, was that the beating had stopped.
The second? He was crouching over me now, his head blocking off the rain that
should have been falling on my face. One of his hands wrapped around the collar of
my jacket to levitate me up from the ground with an audible slosh, so I was close
enough to feel his breath.
Listen to me you dirty little bitch. Are you listening? His hand came out to give my
face a slap just for good measure, stimulating a fit of coughs from my tormented lungs.
I need Asher completely focused on the deal and I cant have a worthless nobody
distracting him. Do you understand? So you either get lost or Ill my brain wavered,
shifting my attention momentarily from his voice to the continuous pitter patter of rain.
It was getting harder to focus. and rip your tongue out! You hear me?! he gave a
shake to my jacket that had the rest of my boneless body trembling with the force.
Yeah I heard him, my whole body heard him. If I see your face again I wont hesitate
to kill you, he added before throwing me back to the wet ground.
Water had never felt so good. The rain rinsed over the aching, hot spots on my face,
gliding down over my temples to mix into my hair. As the screech of the tires resonated
again, I rolled onto my side and spit a mouthful of blood into the stream of water
slinking down toward the gutter.
Great, more Asher-induced problems, and now I was wet. I think I even pissed myself.
No matter how much I screamed at my body to move, my muscles remained painfully
uncooperative. Liquid seeped into the fabric of my pants, my underwear, gliding
176

down through the opening of my jacket to wet my chest. My life slowed down again,
one rain drop at a time. I watched them splatter through heavily lidded tunnel vision
until the creeping darkness pulled me under.

Everything had been a dream; that was the only explanation I had when I woke in a
quiet environment, dry and oddly comfortable. Had I died? Maybe the beating killed
me.
That didnt explain the faint scent of smoke, or the cold breeze that ruffled my hair up
against the side of my face. I slowly worked my eyes open, furrowing my eyebrows
with the effort it took to actually unglue my eyelids.
At first, I was sure I had gone blind. It took a remarkably long time for my eyes to adjust
to the only light source available, which was the faint moonlight coming in through a
set of fluttering curtains. I couldnt see much through them so I abandoned that side
of the room to scan the rest of what I could make out; a dresser to my right, I wasnt
sure of the color, and a nightstand to my left with a modern looking lamp that
resembled a rectangular icicle. An outline of a glass sat on the edge of the stand, with
a box-like thing right next to it.
For some reason my body was half propped up with a flurry of pillows cushioning me. I
shifted to get a better look and the slight movement instantly popped my dream and
heaven scenarios simultaneously. Neither one of those options could include the
amount of absolute ache that tore my breath from my lungs. It hurt just to move my
arms, never mind the rest of my body. The more conscious I grew of myself, the more
hot spots sprang to life. I had a dull ache in the side of my head, and mostly soreness
in my arms and legs, but if I moved my body or inhaled too deeply a sharp pain
promised to have me in tears. Ooowww, my tummy.
A familiar metallic taste tainted the inside of my mouth, instantly bringing forth the
desire for a drink of some sort to wash it away. The glass was close enough for me to
snatch without extending my arm too far so I took advantage of that fact to grab it, I
didnt care if it was water at that point, I just wanted a drink.
It wasnt water. The smoky taste of oak filled my mouth, but it was barely noticeable
beneath the graze of pure alcohol that killed my taste buds. I choked on the harsh
texture that slid down my throat the moment a cough burst through, never allowing
me a chance to spit it back into the glass.

177

Just as I identified the scent of the real drink I had tasted, I heard a shuffling from
behind the curtains. A tiny bright red bulb burned vibrantly from the other side, floating
just a few inches from a face that took me a few seconds to properly place. He
exhaled a thick mist from his lungs, illustrating that the bulb was just the burning end
of a cigarette.
Asher didnt look as composed as usual; his tussled hair appeared almost blonde in
the moonlight, and the light hit him at an angle that outlined bags under his eyes. He
inhaled feverishly on the cancer stick in his grip, burning a good portion of it before he
exhaled through his nostrils. His shirt hung open in the front where a few buttons had
been left undone, but it looked more graceful than messy even when including the
wrinkles in the fabric and how one sleeve fell at a slant down across his elbow.
I swallowed roughly as I took in his eerie perfection, from the way his posture was
acutely upright to the way he managed to make one of my pet peeves look cool. If
the cigarette company wanted to sell any more merchandize, it would be in their best
interest to hire Asher Pickett. For all I knew, they might have already done just that.
What? I blurted after several moments of silenceno, not silence, there was a faint
rhythm outside. Was it still raining?
He moved forward in a smooth glide, walking right up to the side of the bed to turn the
lamplight on. I stiffened at his proximity, and could anyone blame me? He had
already proven he could do what he wanted to me, no consequences, no holds
barred. His little lackey had beaten the shit out of me, another life-threatening situation
that fell on my head because of Asher, and once again it looked like he was
rescuing me from something that was his fault.
I had forgotten about the bourbon in my hand until he reached out with his free one
to pluck it from my grip. Without a word, he moved back toward the fluttering curtains
as he sipped at the liquid inside that I could now see to be a somber amber color. The
new source of light also brought merit to my earlier suspicion of rain, because I could
see light spots of water on the white shirt he wore as well as dark patches in his sandy
hair.
Wait, where did he go? There must have been a balcony past those curtains, he
disappeared too far behind them for me to follow his shadow. I expected him to return
to me, maybe give me an explanation, but my villain left me alone in the room while
the discomfort crept up on me again.
Okay, so I was with Asherwas I in his house? This wasnt the room I woke up in last, it
was much larger and for once it looked personalized. The blue theme didnt carry over
to this particular area, excluding the fluttering curtains, most of the furniture was black
and brown. Two rows of black frames fell in parallel lines on the right side of the room,
178

dotting the wall with black and white photographs of beautifully angled scenes of
nature. The floor was wood, from what I could see, not carpet so we might have very
well not been in his house. I shifted uncomfortably in the large bed as I hiked down the
comforter from my chest, only to find myself in those ridiculous muffin pajamas from
before.
Out of pure curiosity, I pulled my shirt up to glance at my stomach. Sure enough it
looked as bad as it felt, purple blue and yellow just like the colors in my dreams. I
licked nervously at my lips as I led the fabric up higher to where the discoloration
dissolved into the natural pale of my skin on my chest. The cold air began to chill my
skin so I pulled the shirt back down to tuck in my poor stomach. I didnt mind pain but I
wasnt a fucking masochist, and I wouldnt have minded a few painkillers just then.
I was thankful for my strange positioning; without it I would have had to move to see
anything, which I really didnt want to do. This sounded weird but I felt safe. The bed
was warm, soft, I was dry and if I didnt move all I felt was soreness. I was about to
distract myself by studying the room again when I noticed Ashers shadow loom back
inside.
What? I scoffed when he went right back to his staring game.
The bold son of a bitch was acting like he was mad at me, like I was the one that did
something wrong. I fixed my tired eyes into a glare as he turned away from me to walk
over to what I thought was a dresser, but when he reached forward to flick a blue light
on I realized it was a bar. He had a personal bar in his room? Was this his room?
How did I get here? Err, and where am I? I squinted in his direction, trying to see
what he was doing. He fetched ice from a bucket that fell into a discrete hole on the
left side of the bar, dropping the cubes into his glass before he grabbed a long bottle
by the neck and screwed the top off. Bourbon, probably. I still tasted the bitterness in
my mouth.
Fine, dont tell me, I grunted at the continuous silent treatment. If he was going to
ignore me, I didnt mind ignoring him back! Though sitting in some foreign bed with
pain tingling my body while he got drunk didnt sound like the best option either. I tried
moving my legs, finding them sore but functional. I could probably walk back, even if
it was raining
What were you doing at the library? his voice pricked the air, much colder than the
winter haze.
Research, I said quickly, relieved that he was talking but unsettled by his tone.
Bringing my eyes up, I refocused my attention on his face. He looked tired. How did
you find me?
179

Librarian called. Found my number in your wallet, he sipped at his drink.

My wallet? Oh, right, the wallet, the money wallet that wasnt mine. I almost forgot
about the business card inside. And you came running to the rescue? I huffed
ungratefully.
His eyebrows furrowed at my comment, bearing a bit of emotion I didnt know he was
capable of. Not only did he look tired, now he looked angry and annoyed. That calm
demeanor I expected to find on his face was quaintly absent, and as he reached into
his suit pant pocket to retrieve an opened pack of cigarettes I noticed how utterly
human he looked. A normal human, just like everyone else, no longer prim and proper
and robotic.
The cigarette was promptly lit and shoved in between his lips while his lungs went
through another workout of stripping the tobacco from the cancer stick. A cough
itched at the back of my throat when he exhaled in my direction, reminding me how
much I hated smoke. Do you have to do that? I asked.
He paused with the white tube perched between his index and middle finger, inches
away from his lips. The tip burned dimly against the contrast of the bars blue light,
endlessly tainting the air around it. As I glared at him he lowered the ignited cigarette
to tap it momentarily against the side of the bar, sending a mess of ashes to the
reflective surface. Then, out of what seemed to me like spite, he raised it back up to
his lips and inhaled again.
Youre an asshole.
He ignored me, keeping his eyes and head tilted away. Who did this?
Did what? Make cigarettes? I think the Aztecs started smoking tobacco leaves first
but I dont know who actually <i>made</i> cigar
Muffin, he warned.
I dont know, I sighed.
I was lying and he knew it. A few more puffs of his cigarette rendered it into a stub that
he jammed into the surface of the bar with the rest of his ashes. It felt weird to find out
he was a smoker, especially since I had never smelled anything on him before. Come
to think of it, had I ever tried to smell him?
I smelled bourbon on him all the time, I realized as I watched him refill his glass. His
excessive use of life altering luxuries quickly simmered anxiety in my stomach, making
180

me think that there was more going on then just his annoyance at my presence. His
erratic behavior made me nervous, and considering the night I had, I didnt need any
more worry.
When he approached me I tensed up again, literally holding my breath. He met my
eyes as he came to a premature stop at the foot of the bed, hesitating to close the
distance between us any further. My terror must have been recognizable on my face
because he didnt move any closer.
Are you afraid? His voice was low again, guarded.
No, I spat stubbornly, regardless of what I felt on the inside. Fear didnt begin to
describe it, I knew nothing about this man and my research had left me with more
questions than answers. One of his buddies had just beat the shitor piss, depending
on how you looked at itout of me in the middle of the street and I was once again in
his clutches.
He took another step forward and my body flinched back, the small movement
sending spikes of pain up from my core. My eyes watered instantly. Ow, ow, ow, ow.
I see, he murmured under his breath as he raised the glass of alcohol up to his lips.
Actions spoke much louder than words in this case; I wasnt going to tell him I was
afraid but apparently I couldnt control my reactions either.
He looked put off by my response, almost hurt by it. The unremitting flow of different
emotions I saw on his usually dead, still face was so dazzlingly new that I felt the need
to spark different reactions out of him. Was it the alcohol? He was probably wasted,
thats why he appeared more normal now than ever before. Both eyes were steady in
their gaze though, focused and alert as they stared down at me from the other side of
the bed.
I was researching you, I decided to break the silence again. Ah, surprise! I saw it! He
quickly recollected his composure as he took another small sip from his glass, waiting
for me to continue. And truthfully Im a bit boggled as to why a millionaire needs to
go around killing people on the streets.
No reaction this time, nothing. Damn, I thought for sure Id get something out of him
with my accusation. Instead he gave a calm shake of his head to let me know he
wasnt going to be giving me any answers today.
And the person that attacked you? he simply changed the subject with an
incomplete sentence I was supposed to finish. Too bad I wasnt going to play his
game.

181

Was thorough, I quipped.

Asher stiffened, his grip tightening on his glass as I acknowledged the rage in his eyes.
It was giving me a high to find that I could get so many reactions out of him, mainly
because I had been so unsuccessful in the past. I felt powerful, like the control was
back in my hands. It was such a good feeling to have after getting completely
pummeled.
It wasnt a mugging, he elucidated, throwing that excuse out the window before I
could use it. Good, then I didnt have to pay back the money in the wallet that wasnt
mine.
Logic told me to tattle on Michael and let Asher deal with the situation how he
wanted, but who was to say that Asher would mind once he found out it was his
buddy that did it? I just didnt see a point. Pride told me to lie and say a dozen gang
members jumped me, each of whom I gallantly fought off before I keeled over in
exhaustion. And of course, pain told me to cry until he gave me something to numb
everything.
He caught my wince when I shifted the slightest bit beneath the covers while my back
and legs cramped from my fixed position. I needed to move, but it hurt.
The pills are wearing off, he mumbled against the edge of his glass. After a sip, he
continued, Tell me about the attacker and Ill give you some more.
Why do you care? I didnt care. There was no reason for him to care either. If it was
curiosity, he could go fuck himself, and if it was some macho sense of responsibility
then good, I hoped he would drown in guilt for getting me involved in his mess.
Your safety is now my responsibility, and
Since when?! I gasped in disbelief.
Miss Anna and I have
I cut him off again, rudely talking over his quieter tone while he tried to explain.
Anna? Why are you even talking to her? Why do you have her number? When did
you get her number?
I gave her my contact information. She called me when the Agents came into the
diner asking about you, and weve been in touch since. Enough questions, your turn to
answer one.

182

So that was how Asher knew where I was when the cops bombarded me with the
pictures. Anna must have given him a general area to look for otherwise I doubt he
would have known where to begin. That pissed me off though, even my own friends
were turning against me. Did she know how much trouble this guy had gotten me
into?
That reminded me. The cops, I whimpered as I bit down into my lower lip. They
said ah, Anna and Zack
Theyre fine. He gestured impatiently toward me, attempting to bring the subject
back to the hidden identify of my attacker. Strangely enough, I didnt care about
what Michael had done. I wasnt angry, I didnt want revenge, as far as I saw it he had
treated me any other person should have. I was an annoying brat that refused to give
respect and from his perspective I was getting in the way. It was only understandable
that he try to get me <i>out</i> of the way.
Or maybe he had kicked me in the head too hard.
Yeah, that was it.
You dont know that. What if they get hurt? Like I did! And all because of you!
I hit a button again. He turned away from me, but I noticed the flinch in his features
before he retreated back to his precious bar. The remaining bourbon was completely
drained and the glass refilled with more ice added to the mix. He heaved a grave sigh
from his lips that momentarily tugged at my heartstrings. Momentarily.
Look, I dont know, I paused, not sure of how much information would make him
happy enough to get off my back. I didnt see him well. He just told me to stay away
from you or else. Insert random threat here. Blah, blah, blah.
Ashers face softened when he next looked back toward me. I had no idea why, but a
strange sense of relief washed over me when he relaxed against the bar. My answer
seemed to be enough for him because he didnt ask any more questions.
I noted briefly that he didnt light another cigarette, which I had asked him to stop, but
he continued to down the alcohol. Would he stop drinking if I asked? He was so
fucking strange.
A sigh from my lips brought forth another wince, enough to carry a grunt with it. Asher
quietly approached me as I shifted beneath the warm blanket, trying to get more
comfortable without sending any more spikes of pain through my body. He picked up
a black oval-shaped chair from one corner of the room that resembled a small sofa,
moving it over to the side of the bed. It looked comfortable, and odd at its new
183

placement. A chair like that was meant for living and entertainment rooms, not
bedrooms.
Placing his drink down on the nightstand as he sat down in the comfy chair, he
stretched his free hand down to open the first drawer available to him. From inside, he
fetched an unmarked jar that he slid up next to the box-like thing I had noticed
before. I watched with a frown while he popped the top of the box open and
reached inside to withdraw a bottle of pills. These were marked, doctor prescription
from what I could make out. He dropped two into the palm of his hand before
handing both the pills and his glass of bourbon to me.
Werent you supposed to not take drugs with alcohol?
I wrinkled my nose into my face as I gingerly reached out to take what I assumed to
be painkillers, but instead of accepting the drink I reached inside to snatch one of the
ice cubes. I dont like alcohol, I informed him for good measure.
It hurt to open my mouth past a certain point; my jaw felt cracked, even broken. I
pushed the pills in through a small breach, letting my tongue support them as I coated
my lips with the moisture from the ice cube. The block easily melted beneath my
touch, pooling enough moisture in my mouth to swallow the painkillers with.
I didnt notice Asher watching me until I wet my lips for a second time with the ice
cube. He didnt look ready to jump me, just curious, but it still freaked me out. I
popped the entire cube in my mouth and angrily chewed on it as I whipped my head
away from him.
The friction of the comforter moving away from me made me jump and, again, wince.
I threw one hand out to slap at his when I realized what he was doing, a gesture he
easily ignored. No! I gasped, pushing at his hand to get it away from my torso. If he
thought he could take advantage of me again he was dead wrong. Hurt or not, I
wasnt going to let him molest me again. Keep your hands to yourself!
He frowned at me as he withdrew his touch to the opened jar in his lap. With that tired
look still on his face, he picked the thing up to hand it off to me. Put this on the bruise,
itll help it heal.
Oh. Oops. Well, no, that didnt mean he wasnt going to try to cop a feel while he was
supposedly helping me.
I snatched the jar up with one hand, ignoring the tender soreness in my muscles as I
pushed the blanket back by myself. It occurred to me briefly that he could have
copped as many feels as he wanted when I was unconscious and he assumingly
dressed me, but I quickly pushed that thought of my head. With my shirt hiked up to
184

bare the bruise on my abdomen, I lathered two of my fingers with the oily lotion in the
jar and reached down to gingerly touch the surface of my tortured flesh. My stomach
jumped with the touch, sending another jolt of pain up through my organs. I bit down
on my lower lip as I tried to apply the salve, but whenever I tried to spread the
substance my hand flinched back just as my abdomen lurched with pain.
More than that, it was cold! Just as I was about to give up on rubbing anything over
the agonized area, Asher sighed and leaned forward in his chair. His hand suddenly
flattened itself out over my navel, taking the chunk of lotion I had plopped down in
that area to rub it into the skin. I groaned in pain at the initial pressure as I swiped at his
hand, but he didnt stop and the collision only made his fingers press harder into my
bruise.
Well I wasnt doing that again.
He let me hold the jar while he scooped up more of the substance to lather over my
stomach, from just below my ribcage to the waistband of my pants. I watched in awe
as the salve began to tingle and warm my skin, progressively numbing it. After a while,
all I felt was the smooth glide of his palm over my stomach, moving up and down as
the tingles spread through my abdomen. His hand pet down my side, covering every
inch of the abuse while I slowly relaxed beneath his touch. It felt good, and he pulled
away all too soon.
Asher grabbed the jar from my hand, placing it on the nightstand next to his drink
before he got up to walk back to his bar. From behind a hidden alcove, he grabbed a
towel to clean his hands with. He carried it back to me so I could do the same while he
went back to his magical box of stuff to retrieve a folded piece of thin white cloth.
It was all very nice and proper. He spread the cloth out over my stomach, grabbed
my shirt and pulled it back into place. No molestation, no coping a feel, no rape.
He reclined in his seat as he snatched his drink back up, taking in another mouthful of
alcohol. I tested my mobility while he watched, bending back and forth, twisting my
torso to find my limits. It still hurt, but if I didnt do any aerobics anytime soon Id be
okay.
My eyes wandered back toward him, to the sunken features on his face and the
exhaustion that seemed to literally ooze out of his body. I thought back to my mindmap as I watched him, back to the word that teased me. Cute. Did he think I was
cute? He wasnt bad looking himself. I studied the angle of his cheekbones, the
sharpness of his jaw, following the length of his neck to the subtle bump of his Adams
apple. He could be cute. No, no, that word was much too infantile in describing him,
but handsome didnt quite do him justice either. There had to be another word.

185

The way he carried himself was graceful, probably from years of etiquette school, but
there was something raw about his eyes that always hinted at defiance. The contrast
fit him perfectly; the calm disposition with the sinister thoughts below that drove it
proved to be alluring in the end. I found myself watching him much longer than I
should have while I let my mind wander. I knew how soft his lips felt, how warm his skin
was, so it didnt make sense for him to look so cold and stoic at all times.
How do men have sex? I asked.
He choked on his drink, losing enough of his grace to bring a smile to my face. As he
sat up higher in his seat, I contorted my expression back to one of novelty so he
wouldnt notice how amused I became when he lost his cool. It was kind of fun.
I mean two men, together, I added quickly.
Asher brushed the back of his hand against his lips, his gaze fluttering over my face
before snapping up to my eyes. He was probably trying to figure out if I was serious
and I was, I didnt really understand. Annas Sex-Ed lesson consisted of a speech of
always using a condom and being safe. Zack always shied away from the subject,
and from what books I got my hands on that had sex in it I got the picture that the
penis went into the vagina.
Men didnt have vaginas. Thus the confusion.
I wasnt stupid, I was ignorant, there was a difference and I didnt appreciate the way
Asher gawked at me. Though I had to admit, I loved the look of shock I triggered in
him.
What? I huffed.
How old are you? he frowned.
I dont see what my age has to do with the answer.
Your age determines if Im allowed to give you that answer.
I arched both eyebrows at him, unsure of where this was going. It wasnt like I was
asking him for a demonstration or an example, I just wanted to know how it was done.
Im old enough to know, Ive just never bothered to find out.
He pondered my response for a moment, never breaking eye contact with me.
Well?

186

You really dont know, do you? Asher suddenly smirked at me, that boyish little smirk
that made his eyes sparkle. I was beginning to like that smirk, in a very unhealthy way.
Of course I do, I suddenly snorted at him. I was just pulling your leg. Haha, I cant
believe you fell for that!
Okay, so I really didnt know, but if he was going to hold it over my head then he was
the wrong person to go to. I should have just done the research, it was my own fault.
The books I read were never graphic, they described sex as entering someone,
feeling their insides, a woman taking a man into her mouth, masturbation, that sort of
thing. Very tame, never any detail. They had sex in one sentence and woke up
afterward in the next, how was I supposed to know what happened in between?
Though it wasnt like I ever cared until now, until Asher had peaked my interest enough
for me to feel stupid for never finding out. I was just never attracted to the idea of
getting with anyone, as Jason put it. He always talked about banging girls at his
school, and I always left the room because his very voice irritated me. Now I wish I
would have stayed. How did one bang?
I wasnt immature, thick, or slow. I was just a novice when it came to sex. Though I do
admit that I might have been a bit more sheltered than the average teen. I stayed
away from TV, media, and I never had the privilege of being corrupted in high school.
Hmm, he maintained his grin. He probably knew I was lying, considering that he had
to personally teach me how to masturbate. Come to think of it, didnt he do
something funny with his finger in the shower?
I flushed at the thoughtno way, there was no way a penis could fit in there.
My upper teeth sank into the flesh of my lower lip when a rough chuckle crawled from
his throat, demonstrating more of his entertainment. Before I could snap at him, he
stood up from the chair and turned to head for the door. Where was he going?!
Good night, he gave me a salute with his glass of bourbon, still chuckling, and let
himself out.
I sat there feeling like an idiot as I listened to his footsteps recede. Bastard, I hissed
before throwing my hand out to turn the lamp off. With a grunt, I rolled over in bed
and covered my head with the comforter. He had left the balcony doors open so the
only way to keep myself warm was to completely cocoon myself. More than that, I
was incredibly embarrassed. Though that embarrassment was nothing compared to
what I felt the next morning.
When I woke up with morning wood.
187

A woody? Really?
What did the Universe have against me? I bullied the air from my lungs in a slow,
deliberate sigh as I sat up in bed, one hand pushing against the mattress as the other
brushed the covers back.
I woke up several times during the night due to unnecessary nightmares, but I didnt
remember anything erotic about any of them. Why then, did I have a fucking tent in
my pants? My brain rudely shoved forth an image of Ashers hand on my stomach, his
lips against mine, his hand wrapped indirectly around my cock and my erection gave
a jerk of its own as I tried to shake the thoughts away.
I should have just sat there until it went down, but the persistent pressure reminded me
of the lesson I got in masturbation. I gave a hurried glance to the door, still closed,
before looking back down to the bump in the road that stood out against the
smoothness of my pants. No, I wasnt going to do it. Nope, no way, there was no way
that I would possibly..
Oh who was I kidding?
I shoved my hand down into my pants, curling my fingers around the base of my penis
as I gave a small squeeze to the girth. The pressure and friction of my cold fingers
against the hot, sensitive skin triggered a series of goose bumps along my arms.
My lips parted in an awkward moan, and when it echoed back into my ears I hurriedly
recoiled my touch. My hormones beseeched me to continue but I felt too ashamed
and embarrassed to try. I had to focus on the ache I felt in my stomach again, not yet
back to the full-blown agony from before but progressively getting there. Where was
that magical salve when I needed it?
Ignoring my erection, I lopped over on the mattress to grab the bottle of pills still on the
nightstand. It rolled easily into the grip of my hand, light and senseless in my palm. A
few pills rattled inside, rocking against the container loud enough to show that not

188

enough remained. How many had I taken? I rolled the bottle in my hand until I could
see the label on the back; it was Morphine. Nice, I liked Morphine, but who was this
Alex Sanchez guy that the prescription was designated to?
I shrugged the worry away as I popped the top open to grab two more of the pink
pills, choosing to dry swallow them this time for the quick relief. My body ached when I
tried to sit up, but I was still able to move without too much of a hindrance since Asher
had already drugged me up.
The cloth that had protected my shirt from the lotion-like substance on my stomach
during the night slid away when I pushed myself out of the bed, and since it had done
what it was supposed to do I left it behind. My sore legs trembled beneath my weight,
threatening to buckle under me as I stubbornly fought my way into an erect position.
Speaking of erect positions, my little friend hadnt decided to go down yet, so I
snatched a pillow from the bed to cover my crotch while I shuffled my way to the
door. I really needed to go to the bathroom and I wasnt about to ask anyone for
help, I could damn well do it myself. Me and my erection.
It took a good few minutes to actually get to the door, I was moving at a snails pace,
but that didnt matter; I was moving, I was mobile and independent, thats what
mattered. My free hand twisted the doorknob open to let me through, concurrently
providing my eyes with new ground and detail to take inactually, no, I knew this
place, just not from this perspective. I was in Ashers house all right; all the way down
the hall, to the end, in his room. My head twisted to glance over my shoulder as I
observed the room with the sunlights exposing glow washing over everything. Classy.
Sure, master bedrooms were supposed to have bathrooms, but I didnt want to go
back in to look for something I hadnt noticed before and I knew where the real
bathroom was so that would cut my search time in half. I pulled myself forward as my
muscles warmed up to the notion of movement, one by one loosening up for me to
be able to walk without looking like a total idiot. When I finally got to the bathroom, I
discarded the pillow and pushed myself into the familiar environment. I felt oddly
gleeful at having made it there on my own, and I was even more thrilled about getting
to use the bathroom.
By the time I was done with my business, washed my hands, and splashed a bit of
water on my face, I could feel the buzz of the morphine kicking in. The painkiller let me
fix my posture without the stretched bruise on my stomach crippling me with pain,
which made me want to smuggle more into my pocket just for the hell of it. At this
rate, who knew when Id need them next?
It took some doing, but I eventually led my eyes up to the mirror. A bruise on my
temple and a cut on my forehead that had already been pulled shut with butterfly
189

stitches were the only new wounds I noticed, so I shifted my shirt aside to glance at the
mess on my stomach. In the exposure of the bright bathroom light, the bruise actually
didnt look half bad. Most of the purple I thought I saw the night before seemed brown
now, and that brown branched off into yellow territory. There was also a mysterious
band-aid on the inside of my left arm that I ignored because the skin below didnt
hurt.
Fuck, bruises took forever to heal, and it looked like I was just racking them up on
individual shelves. By the time Asher was done with me I was just going to be a black
and blue pulp.
Tearing my eyes away from my reflection, I hiked the shirt back into place to glance
further down, where my woody had thankfully died. I took my chance then to exit the
bathroom and head back to the master bedroom for further exploration. Just as I
stepped into the hallway, I noticed a petite brunette scaling the last few steps up. She
paused just as I did, but she had a big goofy smile on her face.
Oh! Youre awake, she grinned at me, which confused the fuck out of me. Did we
know each other? Beyond that, what was she holding? I shifted my eyes from her face
to the tray of food in her hands, an absolute array of heavenly goodness. Before I
could say anything, she turned to walk into Ashers room; I presumed she wanted me
to follow because she didnt come back out into the hallway, so I did.
And you are? I frowned at her, resisting the urge to defensively cross my arms
because of my stomach.
Jenny, I work for Mr. Pickett, she answered in a rather chipper tone as she set the
tray of food down on top of the bar. That name rang bells in the back of my head, but
I didnt know why. After a small sigh toward the ashes on the surface, she reached out
to turn the bar light off and resumed to make the bed. I slanted my weight against the
doorway as I watched her set everything back to where it was; the chair moved to the
corner again, the pills went into the box, the jar recapped and replaced into the
drawer. She also moved something I hadnt noticed before, an IV with an empty bag
that she stuffed into a closet. Who was that for?
Youre a maid? I asked. She didnt look like a maid, no traditional outfit, just plain
black shirt and pants.
I prefer Housekeeper, but ya, I guess you can say that. Jenny continued cleaning
the room, first by tending to the bar, then closing the balcony doors and fixing the
curtains.
I havent seen you before I hinted.

190

Oh, I only come twice a week, she paused what she was doing to glance over at
me, where I was still standing by the doorway. Arent you Oh! she squeaked,
startled by something unseen. Im sorry, this is for you, she turned to gesture towards
the bar. I followed her as she ran back and grabbed the tray of food, but instead of
giving it to me she placed it down on the foot of the bed.
Thanks... I guess, I frowned at the display when I noticed the absence of coffee. The
food still appeared delicious though; two mini poppy seed muffins, sunny side eggs,
strawberries, and what looked to be toast smothered with grainy stuff. I think Anna
made something like that for me once, was it French toast? To down it all, she had
given me orange juice. Ugh. Dont you have any coffee?
Jenny smiled at me again, like wed been friends for years and she just caught me
lying to her. I think she had brain damage. I was given clear instructions not to give
you any caffeine, she chided. I half-expected her to waggle her finger at me.
Dont fucking talk down to me, I snarled with full knowledge of where she had
received her clear instructions. Stupid Asher! Im a fucking guest in this house, and
youre not my babysitter, youre a maid, so know your place and watch your fucking
mouth. As her smile faded, my lips stretched into one of their own. Now I was just
being a dick.
Sorry about that, she apologized politely. Her face fell in a slump, lips pouting, eyes
to the floor as she nervously rubbed her hands in front of her. Was I supposed to feel
sorry? Too bad, if she was going to keep me from my coffee I was ready to give her
hell.
But she had made me breakfast.
Its fine, I gave a wave of my hand as I walked over to the bed. Just dont do it
again. And get me some coffee.
I could already tell Jenny and I werent going to be friends, not that I wanted any
friends, but she was another link to Asher that I didnt need. I knew I had lashed out at
her, something she didnt specifically deserve, which made me feel grumpy with guilt
when I picked up one of the fresh strawberries. Oh well, I wasnt about to apologize
now, might as well move on.
Wheres Mr. Prick? I popped the fruit into my mouth, bursting the delicious juice from
its thin skin by crushing it between my tongue and the roof of my mouth. It tasted so
good, I immediately grabbed another to shove into my mouth.

191

Mr Pickett is at a meeting right now, she divulged like a proud secretary, He

should be back soon, but, ah, Jenny bit down on her lower lip as she continued to
wrangle her hands. I should call him.
Fear prickled down my spine, spiking the tiny hairs on the back of my neck. No, I said
quickly. Thats thats fine. Ill wait, no need to call him.
She caught the unease in my voice, and probably from a new sense of vengeance I
saw the determination thicken in her expression. Damnit, I shouldnt have snapped at
her. No, no, I should call him. He would want to know that youve woken up.
Why would he need to know that? I growled at her as I grabbed the toast from one
corner of the tray. My hunger roared as loudly as my anger, and I tried to feed them
both while the maid tried to one-up me.
Well youve been sleeping for three days, so I d
What?
My body tensed up at the new information. As Jenny repeated her words, my heart
sank at the proposition of how much time I had lost. Three days? Three days? How
badly had Michael beaten me? It all happened so fast, I didnt realize there could
have been so much damage done. It wasnt like he wailed on me for hours, it was
literally a dozen kicks and a punch. And a slap, oh yeah and a kick in the head.
Ugh, I rubbed at my head with my clean hand, pushing the longer bangs out of my
face as my eyes pressed shut. So it's Monday now?
Tuesday, she corrected.
Three days.
Thats fucked up! I yelled, my voice startling her. She frowned at me as I tossed the
half eaten piece of toast aside and wiped my hand on my pants, pants that she was
probably going to end up cleaning. Hah. Wouldnt it technically be two and a half?
Jenny furrowed her eyebrows at me, her eyes narrowing as she tilted her head to one
side. Fine, I was just trying to make myself feel better, she didnt have to look like she
thought I was retarded. Are you
Im fine, whatever. Fuck, this sucks. I didnt realize he hit me that hard.

192

She was at my side in a flash, her hand resting on my thigh in what could have been a
gesture of comfort, but it just pissed me off. Do you know who did this to you? she
whispered. I felt like a rape victim.
Jesus fuck, I hissed as I used one hand to swipe hers off my leg. Give them an inch
and theyll take a mile, eh? No, what the fuck. Look go back to pouting in your
corner, okay? And no touching.
The stupid maid replaced her hands in her lap, but she didnt remove herself from the
spot on the bed next to me. I hoped to what ever god was out there that she wasnt
about to give me affection and attention because she thought I was a victim,
especially since she looked ready to forgive me for my earlier outburst.
Apparently, she was. Do you need anything? she whispered gingerly.
Solitude.
Jenny fought back a scowl to maintain the understanding look on her face. I sneered
at her as I picked up the glass of orange juice, raising it up to my lips to quickly down it.
My mouth kept feeling dry, I had no idea why. Plus, orange juice was better than
water.
After I had drained the liquid, I resumed glaring at Jenny. It took her a few seconds to
take the hint, but she finally nodded and stood up to leave. I waited for the door to
close behind her then went back to devouring everything on the tray. Three days,
wow, no wonder I was hungry. And that explained the IV, and the band-aid on the
inside of my arm, I would have died if I went that long without any liquids.
With the last strawberry in my hand, I strode over to the balcony to promptly grab the
glass doors handle and pop it open. Cold air instantly welcomed me; it wasnt a gust,
just a small breeze. The rain from the night before left the air damp but fresh, and I
inhaled the morning atmosphere into my sore lungs as I walked out to the iron railing a
few steps away.
The view was absolutely fantastic. From my position, I could see mountains that
stretched on for miles, melting into groves of wild flowers and wild grass that arched
upward into a garden built specifically around a fountain. As beautiful as it was, I
could tell the garden had been neglected. Hedges seemed overgrown, weeds uncut,
and leaves from unkempt trees littered the magnificently carved stone of the fountain.
With his house so tidy and clean, I pondered why Asher hadnt hired a gardener to
take care of the rest of his property. He didnt seem like the guy that would leave
things half-assed.

193

The door popped back open behind me and as I turned to see who it was, I noticed
Jenny walking in with a phone pressed against her ear. I smashed my jaws together as
I internally damned her; she had called Asher, I knew she had. Stupid whore, why
couldnt she just mind her own business? Though I probably was her business in this
case.
I snatched the receiver out of her hand when she outstretched it in my direction,
making a point to knock into her shoulder as I charged out of the balcony. She closed
the doors behind me while I plopped onto the bed to purposely ruin her hard work at
making it look perfect again. The landing hurt my stomach, but I kept my expression
solid. What? I barked into the phone.
Im pleased that youre feeling well enough to give Miss Jenny trouble, Asher voice
came from the other side.
Yeah, well, she wont give me coffee. Which is bullshit, I paused, thinking about
Alrick and his kind streak that let me have what I wanted. When is Alrick going to take
me back?
He isnt.
A shiver rushed through my body at his cold tone, spreading a tightening in my throat
as I sat up in bed. What? Why? Alrick wasnt hurt, was he? Did he die while I was
asleep? Fuck, what about his daughter? His wife? His family? Was he okay?! ...
what? I choked out.
He isnt taking you back. You will remain there.
Why the hell do I have to do that? Why wont he take me back? Was Alrick mad at
me?
It seems that when you return to the city, you tend to get into trouble. Id rather not
risk it until youre healthier.
Risk it? How was it his risk to take? Never mind that all my trouble was due to him, but
now he was literally going to lock me up? And that was an interesting choice of words;
he had said healthier instead of feeling better. He probably knew what my argument
would have been.
Fuck you, Im not staying here! I exclaimed as I pulled myself off the bed. I
immediately moved out of the room, towards the stairs, and peered down over the
railing towards the closed door.

194

I dont see where you have a choice. He had a point. Damn that magical lock of
his.
What the fuck am I supposed to do? Im not going to wait around for you to come
back like some fucking housewife. This is kidnapping, you know. I can fucking press
charges.
By all means, do so. Perhaps you can explain to them what you refused to tell me.
Fuck off, I retorted. With a careless toss of my hand, the phone flew over the railing
and plunged down to the first floor. A loud cracking sound echoed off the walls,
bouncing back to my ears to assure me that I had destroyed his means of
communication. I grinned to myself; I heard him begin to respond which meant he
would get a nice little dead beeeeeeep in return to whatever snide remark he made.
Hah! Take that!
You could have just hung up, Jennys unexpected voice came from my right,
triggering a jump out of me.
Not as fun, I pointed out as I turned to face her. Hey do you have a key?
She gave a light shake of her head, bashing in my hopes and dreams before even
speaking. Mr. Pickett lets me in the morning and I leave when he returns. Sorry, youre
stuck here with me.
Great, so what the fuck am I supposed to do? Im going to go out of my mind with
boredom. Does he have a Television? Jenny shook her head. Computer? She
hesitated, then shook her head again. Blackberry? Nintendo DS? Gameboy? God,
what is this, the medieval ages? How does a millionaire not have tons of useless
electronics lying around everywhere never to be touched?
Mr. Pickett isnt home very often, I suppose thats one of the reasons. Ive never asked
him personally.
So? Since when was that an excuse for rich people to not buy stupid shit they dont
need? I thought the motto was If you have it, flaunt it. Alright, thanks, I grumbled in
a stride past her. I didnt feel like dealing with her, particularly because she had called
Asher to tattle on me.
The ache in my stomach pounded mirthlessly against my flesh, almost like it was
worried that I had forgotten about it. I hadnt, and I invaded Ashers room for more of
the fancy pills in his nightstand box. Before I popped the top open, I turned the bottle
in my hand to skim over the warning label I had bypassed earlier.

195

You may not be able to take this medicine unless you are already being treated with
a similar opioid pain medicine and your body is tolerant to it. Talk with your doctor if
you are not sure you are opioid-tolerant. Morphine may be habit-forming and should
be used only by the person it was prescribed for. Morphine should never be given to
another person, especially someone who has a history of drug abuse or addiction.
Keep the medication in a secure place where others cannot get to it. blah, blah,
blah. I didnt bother reading the rest. Habit-forming stopped my thoughts of taking
more pills in its tracks, especially with the factor of overdosing. If I ever got away from
Asher I didnt want to come back to him because I was hooked on morphinebut I
could see how one would get addicted. The stuff was amazing.
I guess my body was tolerant to it now, anyway. I didnt know what happened the
three days I was out like a light, but Id find out later.
A long stretch of time was wasted with me messing up Ashers bed while I stared at the
ceiling just distracting myself by thinking of all the coffee I could get when I got back
to Anna. Had she missed me the past three days? Did Asher keep in touch with her like
he promised? I really hoped she wasnt worried. I came to an abrupt stop in the
middle of my daydreaming when I heard Jenny from downstairs. She was greeting
someone.
Careful for my stomach, I swung both feet off the edge of the bed to pull myself into a
stance and snuck my way over to the door.
Here, let me take your coat, Jennys voice echoed into the room when I cracked
the barrier open. My attention remained on the sounds coming from downstairs while I
stalked over to the railing as quietly as I could.
Asher stood a few steps away from Jenny, his hands peeling his tawny coat off his
shoulders before he folded it on her outstretched arm. He whispered something to her
and she signaled up, towards the stairs. His head slowly tilted back to raise his grey
gaze in my direction. Just as I was about to throw a snide remark at him for leaving me
there without entertainment, two other people slid into the house.
Of course. Of course it was Michael and his little nameless friend from before. Rage
shot through my arms so quickly that they flew out in front of me without permission in
what could have very easily been a choking motion, except I slammed my hands
down onto the top of the wooden hand rail and dug my fingers into the surface. The
resulting effect was surprisingly loud, announcing my presence to everyone in the
housethat included Alrick, who walked in last.
Michael met my glare with an acid one of his own, his lips curled halfway against his
teeth in a rather unattractive snarl. The dark eyes burned black with the hatred
radiated from his very core, like he would have turned me into dust where I stood if he
196

had the means. I found myself comparing his dark gaze to Agent Smith from that
Matrix movie. Fine, then Id be Noah. Or Neo. Oh, whatever, I was too pissed to think.
What is he doing here? Michael whipped his head to Asher with a tinge of betrayal
on his face.
I was fucking invited, I replied angrily. A lie, I know, but I wanted to piss him off and
so far me being Ashers guest did just that so why not continue the trend?
He shouldnt be here, Michael continued talking to Asher, who consequently kept
his eyes on me.
Yeah, youre completely right. I should go back to the rock I crawled out from. Want
to help me find it? I could taste the blood in my mouth again. Maybe its under
some stairs. At the library.
The dark gaze blasted up in my direction. Judging by the blank expression on
everyone elses face, Michael had kept the story of my beating as hush-hush as I had.
Bastard. Ill do more than help, Ill fucking shove you under.
And we all know how good you are at shoving your way around the world, dont
we? The railing creaked against my weight as I leaned into it, my breathing and heart
beat speeding up at a remarkable rate. But then again I think all that shoving is giving
you delusions of competence.
Dont get smart with me.
Hah! Im surprised you know the difference!
Thats enough, Asher groaned, causing Michaels next comment to die in his throat.
Stop riling everyone up, he directed his words and eyes straight to me.
The fault he easily dropped onto my shoulders brought a burning sensation to my eyes
that I instantly wanted to deny. I wasnt riling anyone up. Considering my behavior in
the past I could see where he would mistake my absolute hatred towards Michael for
the simple kind of annoyance I protruded towards Vincenzo. The two were very, very
different. It wasnt like he would notice the distinction, and I tried not to blame him for
the growing lump in my throat, but his comment only went to prove that if I told him his
buddy beat me up hed just say it was my fault.
Im sorry about my behavior, Michael decided to throw some ass kissing in there, just
to irk me. With everyone looking up, he was safe to grin at his triumph.

197

Yeah, well Im fucking sorry that you survived the abortion! I screamed. I was so
fucking furious! That man had beaten me so bad that I was unconscious for three
days, and Asher demanded that I stop riling him up. How dare he! My hands shook as I
charged back into the room, fingers trembling beneath the force it took for both arms
to slam the door shut. I drew an uneasy intake of breath as I listened to my own
wavering voice bobbing against the back of my throat.
I needed something, anything to calm me down.
I didnt realize I had shut myself up in Ashers room until I saw the lack of blue all over
again. Well that was going to make things awkward laterbut Id deal with that when
it came up, for now I just wanted to break something. Maybe the pictures on his walls.
Yeah, thatd make me feel better! Or the lamp, the nightstand, even the bar
The bar! Thats it; I would waste his precious bourbon.
I rushed towards it, grabbing the nearest bottle from a neat stack in the back to tug it
towards me; I was going to fucking pour it down the sink. Both of my hands resumed
shaking with my wrath when I wrestled with the top of the bottle, trying to pop the
stubborn little cork out. It slid out of my grip several times, but I finally succeeded when
I used both fingertips and nails to rip it free. The tube piece of bark dislodged with an
audible pop, spiraling away out of my grip in its descent to the floor.
With a soft knock, the door split open, letting a second body I hadnt invited into the
room. I glowered at the sandy haired businessman as his eyes snapped to his stupid
bottle of bourbon in my clutches. I wanted to spite him, I wanted to just pour it all over
the floor and tell him to lick it up if he wanted it so much, but there was no time for any
of that when he quickly closed the distance between us.
There was just one thing I could do before he wrenched the bottle from my hand;
break it. Alcohol sloshed up the curve of the bottleneck, splashing against the
aperture as I swung it down against the edge of the shiny, polished bar. Brilliant,
jagged pieces of glass flew in every which way, plummeting through the air while the
alcohol spilled onto the wooden tiles beneath my feet.
Watch it! He grunted. His hand lashed out to wrap around my waist, squeezing on
my bruise as he picked me up off my feet and threw me onto the bed. I was sure hed
be pissed about the bourbon, but when I glanced back up at him I saw the concern
on his face as he looked down at the wreck on the floor.
Youre worried about your floor?! I stifled.
Shut up, he commanded sharply. The anger in his eyes hazardously reminded me of
Michaels fury, so I did just that. I shut up.
198

Warm, soft material molded itself to the outline of my body, but the comforter did
nothing to calm the tremor in my hands. I was still so perplexingly pissed. And my
tummy hurt after his god damn abuse. I hissed beneath my breath as I tried to slant my
body enough to avoid further contusions, balancing my weight on my elbow while I
used the other hand to cautiously rub at my stomach. I watched him from the corner
of my eye as he pulled his pinstriped blue and white suit jacket off his shoulders and
spread it out over the area with the broken glass. It puzzled me why he would stain his
expensive jacket when he was so worried about his floor, but I didnt give him the
satisfaction of vocalizing my curiosity. I hoped it was expensive. I hoped the bourbon
cost him hundreds of dollars and that his jacket was exceptionally stained. My own
spite surprised me when I found myself hoping everything Id broken was
irreplaceable. Including the phone.
I was definitely losing it! I couldnt keep my cool like Asher, and while I spent half my
life trying to push other peoples buttons, I kept having my own pushed. This fucking
sucked!
My bruise kept pulsing with the pain he left behind after the brief pressure on my
stomach. It wasnt intolerable, but it was the only thing on my mind now and that
made it ten times worse. I wanted it to stop, so I rolled onto my side and scooted up
the length of the mattress to the nightstand.
Im relieved you didnt... hey! Hey! he rasped when he heard my hand rattle with the
box, my grip almost toppling it over in my haste. I heard glass crush beneath his shoes
just as I jerked the bottle of morphine pills free of the confinement and tried to pocket
it, but the cylinder barely touched the palm of my hand before his grasp closed
around my wrist. He stole my pills. Just like hed stolen my lemon square, my coffee,
and my life.
Give it back! I wailed, sitting up to follow the ascent of his thief of a hand away from
me. He used his hold to keep me reined back by my wrist, so even as I contorted my
position to accommodate the twist of events I was still unable to reach my goal.
You insufferable brat, he chortled with a slight smirk on his face. How many have
you already taken today?
Not enough, apparently because just looking at your face pains me. GIVE IT BACK! I
swiped at his hand again with my free one, infuriated. My frustration appeared to
amuse him, which made sense, really, it was probably so much fun laughing at the kid
that needed painkillers. Ha ha, hahaha.
Give it back! I need it! I screeched again.

199

You clearly dont, you seem to be moving just fine without it.
Just one more. Come on, fuck! Its the least you can do, you son of a bitch!
The least I could do? he scoffed in disbelief.
Yes, the very least, especially after he took Michaels side. I didnt need any more pills,
the overdosing aspect hadnt been forgotten, but at that moment I wanted to take
something from him. Anything, be it the medication he kept away from me or the
sense of superiority he felt at pushing me around. Breaking something else in his room
didnt sound like a bad idea, either.
I dont quite understand your tumultuous behavior. Although substantially amusing, it
is proving to be a nuisance, he stated. I also cant have you upsetting all my
employees. First, you will apologize to Michael, and when
I stopped listening. The impact of his suggestion smashed into the side of my skull, just
like the bastards punch against my temple. My anger didnt let me think anymore, it
grabbed me by the throat and pulled me down so far into the dirt of my subconscious
that there was nothing left but raw horror on my face. You will apologize to Michael
flipped, weaved, and repeated horizontally across a marquee. I was in the Twilight
Zone, wasnt I? I had to be, and Alfred Hitchcock was going to step out any moment
to tell me just that.
What is it? came instead, and not in Hitchcocks voice.
You want me to. To apologize after he
After he what?
My eyes refocused once I caught onto the blank slate of his voice; no anger, no
curiosity, nothing. What suspicions he might have had, he wanted me to conclude. He
wanted me to say it. He I squeaked quietly as the moisture in my mouth departed,
dispersing with the rest of my nerves. Working out the correct words to say had never
been more excruciating then at that moment, with his hazy eyes glaring down at me.
Speech failed me. I knew he wouldnt believe any of my allegations and for some
reason I didnt think I could bear having those eyes scrutinize me any longer, not with
disappointment in them.
I pursed my lips together, prompting an angry clench in his jaws.
Fine, well try this your way. Ill answer one of your questions, and then you can
answer one of mine. Deal? He tightened his hold on my wrist.

200

Uh, no. No deal. I didnt know where he got the idea that a trade of answers was my
way. All I knew was my attempts to wriggle away proved to be futile, so I fell back to
the bed in a heap and bent my hand back to tear free from his hand. Asher didnt let
go, but that didnt mean my hand didnt follow my pullin fact, it came twice as fast
when he pushed it in my direction until the movement toppled me off my center of
balance. The bed rocked unsteadily with our weight as he joined me, one knee on
either side of my torso.
Fuck.
Oh jesus, wrong word. My brain suddenly filled with all the wrong words possible;
straddle and mount topped the list.
Wh- I barely exhaled before he pushed his lips against mine, consuming not only my
words, but my breath and voice. I didnt taste bourbon, or cigarettes; it was a new
flavor that overwhelmed my taste buds as his tongue poked into my mouth. Too bad I
was comprehensive this time; I bit down.
Asher jerked away just as my jaws flexed together, dodging the full retribution of my
teeth. I did manage to graze the tip of his tongue though, and that fact had a goofy
smile on my face when he sat up to survey my expression.
Didnt you want to know how men had sex? he asked nonchalantly.
My smile faded. I parted my lips like a dying gold fish, molding them into words without
a voice for support.
Thats what I presumed, he nodded gravely. He kept his grip on my wrist as he bent
over me, using his other hand to set the pills down on the nightstand and slide one of
the drawers open. I didnt see which one, I was busy staring up at his chest where the
buttons fell away to bare smooth, pale skin. Sex?
He shifted his body again, this time planting his ass down onto my crotch as he
released my wrist. My first reaction was to sit up, but with his weight on my lower body
the strength needed to do so would have to come from my abdomen, my stomach,
which I realized as soon as my elbows moved to help me up. Even if I did sit up, it
wasnt like I was going anywhere. Asher proved that quickly enough by reaching
down to flatten one hand onto my chest and pin me back down. Stay, he cooed.
Rape, rape, rape, my mind screamed at me as I stared wide-eyed up at the
predictably impassive face. A single, crooked smirk was all it took for all that stoicism to
melt away in oblivion, a single smirk that had my heart drumming in my chest like
fucking Donkey Kong.

201

He calmly unbuttoned his cuffs, grabbed each white sleeve and rolled them up to his
elbows. The friction against my crotch already had my revived hormones firing off
individually, one brave soldier at a time. They lined up for their death, star eyed and
determined to make something of themselves, of me the problem was that they
were making an idiot out of me. I was getting hard and he hadnt even done
anything.
Eager to play? he maintained his smirk as he gave a small nudge to my arousal by
rocking his weight. Shouldnt he have been pissed? I had broken and ruined so many
of his things. Didnt he care? wait, what were we playing?
My brain clicked back into its proper holding when he reached down to hike up my
shirt with both hands. W-wait! I asked for an explanation, not a demonstration! my
voice finally slid free in a pathetic yelp.
My explanations come with demonstrations. If youre good, I wont make it an
exhibition. Now listen and learn. He pushed at my shirt and I slapped my palms down
on top of his knuckles, attempting none too successfully to replace the thin piece of
cloth where it belonged. Tsk, he clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth,
consciously letting me watch his smirk fade while his eyes dangerously narrowed. My
endeavor did nothing for my situation except annoy him further.
Oh crap. I did it now. I pissed him off. He was going to beat the life out of me like
Michael.
I think your interpretation of this situation may be distorted, he stated in his signature
firm tone. He released my shirt to grab my struggling hands, which he raised to either
side of my head and pressed harshly into the mattress. This isnt the Muffin parade.
Ive been aptly patient, but if you insist on acting out then I will take it into my own
hands to discipline you.
Discipline me? How dare h
Stay with me, he tightened his grip on my wrists, not letting my wandering mind get
far. If you wish to have a civilized discussion with me, I will perhaps extend my
patience even further than necessary. Do you find yourself capable?
You basta
I didnt think so, Asher observed.
Nnghh a frustrated groan tightened my throat. He was talking down to me, which
fit considering our difference in status, but it pushed my growing aggravation into a
whole new category when I failed to escape. I quickly found out, through trial and
202

error, how much my body actually used my stomach to move correctly. Pulling up on
my legs had my abdomen tensing up, giving me even more pain in the long run each
time I tried to thrash and kick behind him. Oh and I tried, I tried. Needless to say, I
settled down after a few minutes of no results and heightened agony.
He gracefully glided his hands down over my arms from my wrists, over my elbows, my
shoulders, and came to an abrupt stop at my chest. I sucked in my breath when his
large palm flattened over my frantic heart. Whats this? Our hero, the valiant,
obdurate Muffin nervous?
I didnt even know what obdurate meant! Shut up, you fucking pervert!
Hmm, Asher grunted with both hands out in front of him, reaching for my shirt again. I
bit my lip as I twisted my torso in a half-assedbecause it hurtattempt to squirm
away. He stubbornly kept his weight on my hips, so when my upper torso coiled a
series of cracks ran down my spine and an agonized yelp slid past my lips. Alarmed by
the ghastly sound that came out of me, Asher made the mistake of raising his support
to his knees.
I took the small window of opportunity to flip onto my side and scramble up the length
of the bed. My hand barely grazed the opposing edge of the mattress when his touch
came down on the small of my back. The comforter met my face with a soft thump,
and I groaned again at the light pressure on my bruise just as new weight
supplemented onto my newly cracked spine.
He was holding me down with his body, trapping me like the wild animal I must have
vocally resembled. I grunted, crooned and hissed in a frantic attempt to get away; I
was trying to make it up to myself, since I had miserably failed to pull off any sort of
defense against Michael. I had to get away from Asher, even though in the back of
my brain a voice insisted that he wouldnt hurt me.
Sshh, shh, he chuckled carelessly. The larger body maneuvered itself around mine,
keeping me pinned against the bed while one hand snaked around my waist and the
other smoothly cupped my hip. With one firm tug, he flipped me so that his chest
pressed against my back in a tight spooning position. I wailed as the hand on my joint
dipped in between my kicking legs and slid right into the loose holding of my pajamas.
The heat that pulsed from his fingertips to the tip of my cock labored a sensational
feeling that pooled warmth in my crotch.
I didnt want to shh, but I didnt want to moan either. As much as I found the whole
situation wrong, I couldnt deny even to myself that it felt heavenly to have his warm
hand wrapped around my penisand the fact that I felt safe enough to allow that
pleasure frightened me. It scared the shit out of me.

203

He moved his hand down in a smooth stroke to the base of my shaft, causing my balls
to tighten as he exhaled his unkindly hot breath against the side of my neck. Those
same fingers lightly kneaded the flesh during a caress upward, milking moisture that
literally escaped the tip of my member. In a half-hump against the palm of his hand, I
realized how fast he was pulling me into an unfamiliar haze.
Stop! I pleaded. Stop, stop, Ill tell you!
Coward. I was nothing but a coward. The unexplored territory he promised to teach
and touch was horrifying to me. I would tell him anything he wanted if he just stopped,
if he didnt prove how much I craved the attention he guaranteed. I didnt feel
threatened, just terrified of the unknown, and that fear damned all my chances for a
whole new world as Ashers hands slowly withdrew.
Yes? he urged. I rolled onto my back, turning to face his looming body while he
rearranged himself so that his hands and knees supported him. Beneath the inspection
of his grey eyes, I felt my heart sink again. He wouldnt believe me, I knew he wouldnt.
What was the question again?
Asher gave a light growl that vibrated through his throat and his lips, both
consequently grazing against mine, lightly kneading the surface of my open mouth.
Go on, he murmured, brushing his lips in what should have been a kiss, but it was
much too airy and fleeting. Tell me, the low rumble continued, its tremor evoking the
pleasant reactions in my poor neglected penis.
When did I start thinking of my penis as neglected?
My self-control flickered in and out of focus when he gingerly brushed three fingers
over my temple, up through my hair to tuck a few strands behind my ear. A trail of
nervous goose bumps outlined the back of my neck when I very very consciously let
him kiss me again. Tell me, he whispered against my mouth, making the words sound
so utterly delicious with a smooth graze of his tongue. A stubborn part of me grunted,
but it had no chance once Asher murmured against my lips again. The sensation was
damning, I loved to feel his words.
It was Michael he hit me I whispered mindlessly.
Those magic words caused everything to stop, from the light friction against my dick to
the shower of attention against my lips. As quickly as he had jumped me, Asher
withdrew, a satisfied look on his face. He raised the hand in my hair to tap twice
against my cheek in light slaps, as if he were waking me from a deep sleep, but all he
said was, There. That wasnt so hard, was it?

204

Saying I was confused was an understatement; I was horribly lost. He sounded like he
had known the entire time, and I gaped at him as he sat up to undo my petrified
fingers from his shirt. He gave a light pat to smooth out the wrinkles then turned to slide
off the edge of the bed and my brain struggled to keep up with the turn of events with
one dominant question; what?
You knew? I ventured.
I made an educated guess when you stated your attacker informed you to stay
away, he replied.
A-and you wanted me to apologize to h.. him?
Of course not, he mirrored my frown, making it seem like I was the one out of my
mind. I only wanted you to say it. It would be a very serious allegation if I were to
accuse him of such an act without proof or proper incentive. But the situation will be
accurately assessed now.
Oh, I whispered, unable to think of anything better to say.
Asher quietly bustled around the room, moving from drawer to closet to dresser,
picking out bits and pieces of a new outfit. I watched, half dazed, attempting poorly
to come to terms with everything he said. What exactly did accurately accessed
mean? I caught myself before I could worry about Michaels well beingthe bastard
hadnt spent a second to think about mine. No need to waste my time.
The trajectory of the turn of events caught up with me like a hard smack in the face.
How easily he had managed to manipulate me was both pathetic and comical. Not
only did he get me to say what he wanted, he got me to talk at record speedjust
like he had gotten me to say thank you, though please was still mine. The little
game of Cat and Mouse proved to be frightening though, especially when the mouse
had no chance in hell to get away or pull one over the cats eyes. I was going to lose.
No, as I sat there like a stupefied troll, I was presently losing.
So I pushed myself off the bed, trying to preserve whatever courage I could call from
the depths of my pitiable existence as I resisted the urge to wince at my bruise and
crossed my arms over my chest. I cant believe you manipulated me like that. So
much for civilized conversations Youre as bad as those blackmailing cops, I
grumbled accusingly.
He paused in front a mirror on the inside of the closet door, where he was avidly
adjusting a tie around his throat. Through the reflection, he gave me a crooked, cocky
grin. Ah, but I dont need blackmail to possess you, Muffin, he purred effortlessly.

205

My heartbeat went into overdrive again, each pump of blood as vociferous and
grating as the last. As I struggled to keep my expression scornful, I felt my brain split off
into separate marathons; one part shoving the word Cute in my face, curled C and
all, while the other stamped the word possess against the back of my eyeballs. I
watched the word simmer and settle into place just before my common sense
threatened to explode. Luckily, I managed to recollect myself before Asher turned
around to peer down at me.
E-excuse me? I strangled out.
And now that I know you enjoy our encounters, perhaps I wont hold myself back so
much, he embellished. Just as I was about to deny his claim, he outstretched a hand
to run the back of his fingers over my crotch, which simulated an uncontrolled gasp
from my lips. I lurched back, earning a stroke of pain through my stomach, and
knocked into the nightstand behind me as I defensively hoisted both hands.
I d-do NOT! I gasped feebly. The extent of his cockiness had no bounds in the
manner of his voice, and his grin hadnt departed either. All the vulnerability from
before caught up with me, even as I told myself to pop his ego bubble. Damning him
to hell somehow didnt equate the degree of his comment; which sucked for me, I
didnt have anything better up my sleeves just then. Go to hell!
As much as I would enjoy providing another demonstration, he gave a quick glance
to the silver watch on his wrist, I have a meeting in fifteen minutes. A pause followed,
the silence only accenting the eerie grin on his face. Fifteen minutes is adequate
time, however he trailed off, shifting his grey eyes back to me.
At that moment I didnt know if I was excited, nervous or scared; I didnt know
anything anymore. My own feelings were a mystery to me, particularly because the
way he kept pulling my strings tainted my opinions. I struggled with my words while he
silently watched me, that poisonous grin still twisting his warm lips back. What was I
supposed to say to that? No seemed so ineffective.
Later, then, he chuckled at my expression. With another glance at his watch, Asher
pulled on a fresh suit jacket and shook his head before turning to exit the room.
The door closed with a soft click that retaliated against the chaos in my head. My
denial toward what he made me feel battled the apparent duh echoing in the back
of my head; I liked it, my logic argued, I liked how he treated me so ruthlessly and
preciously at the same time. Yet pride led me to believe that I would never enjoy such
harsh treatmentnot that he had really been harsh... Asher never directly hurt me,
sure he led me into danger but ever since he brought me back to his home hed been
nothing but Ugh! No, no, I was not going to let my villain step out from the tablet I
had already built for him. He was a jerk. A heartless bastard that killed dogs, murdered
206

people and kidnapped innocent bystanders! Any physical reaction to him was simply
hormones. Right?
But all my confusion and self-doubt melted into obscure oblivion when I realized one
very important fact; I had just been seduced by Asher Pickett.
Damn it damn it! How could I let him get to me like that? He jerks me off once and
what, he can suddenly jerk me around? God, I was such an IDIOT! To think that he
purposely led me astray with somewhat undesired sexual advances and got me
to do what he wanted, it was infuriating. That was probably what bothered me most,
that I actually listened to him.
I self-consciously chewed my lower lip, my attention locked onto the door as I tried to
recollect myself. My life was so much simpler without Asher in it; so was breathing
and dealing with my bodys natural responses. As the silence ticked away, I relaxed in
my corner of the room and slowly relented to sitting down on one corner of the bed.
A few minutes later, the door opened again, this time without a knock. I tensed up in
fear of the added presence but when I only saw Jennys diminutive form squeeze itself
in I calmed once again. She gave me a strictly polite smile as she lugged in a broom
with a matching dustpan that she dragged over to the area by the bar. The jacket
was carefully removed, and the brooms bristles put to good use in gathering up all
the stray strands of glass. As I numbly watched her clean, it clicked why Asher had
thrown me so briskly away from that area. Oh, right, glass. Pointy. Sharp. Dangerous.
It was hard to perceive anything he did as nice when I constantly thought the worst of
him.
Hey... I whispered, drawing the maids attention to me. Do you think Im cute?
Jenny paused in the midst of tying a plastic bag she filled up with the broken pieces of
the bourbon bottle, raised one eyebrow toward me and suddenly smiled. Cute? she
echoed, running her eyes over me. Yes Mr. Alex, I think youre cute, she giggled. I
opened my mouth to respond to her, to ask if she was joking, but my voice faltered
and died in the back of my throat. Jenny quietly got up to exit the room as I found yet
another question added to my ongoing list.
Who the hell was Alex?

207

Did she just call me Alex?

I bolted off the bed to follow her out the door with the strong intention of questioning
her. As I passed the threshold of Ashers room, past the door I practically threw open, I
bumped into a flesh wall. The slight impact rattled me off balance, sending me back
against the doorframe as two steady hands came out to catch me.
Whoa! You okay? Someones in a hurry, Alrick grinned down at me. He seemed to
be grinning a lot latelynot that Id known him for long, but the first day I met him he
was so serious and businesslike. Now all he did was grin, which really took away the
scary-bodyguard-slash-thug aspect; the fact that I knew he had a kid probably took
away from that too.
Yes. I am. Im absolutely thriving with life so can you please get your hands off of
me? I growled.
Alrick quietly withdrew his grip from my arms and raised one up to mess up my hair
before he shoved both into his jackets pockets. As I watched the movement, and
pushed my bangs out of my face, I acknowledged the details of what he was
wearing; a dark brown jacket with white stitching, a black shirt and plain jeans. Very
dull and casual, nothing a gangster in my head would have worn But what about
Asher? He didnt dress like the regular gangster eithermore like an ordinary
businessman, or a lawyer. It surprised me that I even remembered what he wore; but
the more I thought about it the more I realized how much attention I actually paid to
Asher. I could recall everything about him, his hair, eyes, lips, hands, clothing, shoes,
but I didnt even take into account what color eyes Jenny had.
That was a creepy thought.
At least I knew what Alrick looked like: blonde-hair-blue-eyes-big-broad-shoulders,
perfect stereotypical German.

208

Do you hate Jewish people? I balked suddenly.

With an unintelligible stutter, he struggled to catch up with my entwined thoughts,
understandably unable to comprehend where I had pulled that comment out from; it
was hard to control my thoughts sometimes, I really needed to stop talking oh but
that was so hard!
Why, are you Jewish? he finally asked.
Nope. I was just thinking about how, I paused when the sound of clinking glass from
downstairs caught my attention, Never mind Listen, the maid just called me Alex.
Who is that?
Oh, thats you, Alrick answered, Its the name we gave the doctor Muffin didnt
seem like the best name to put on the prescription. I hope you dont mind.
As a matter of fact, I do. Whats wrong with my name?
Ah, well
I sighed at his visible hesitation, my annoyance level heightening. Honestly, what was
wrong with my name? People named their kids Sunshine, August, America, Kitty and
even Mercedes but Muffin was such a stretch for everyone? Really? I scowled at his
obvious conformity then kicked myself mentally for thinking anything in Alricks life
was even remotely similar to normal.
Forget it. Ill just wait, why are you here? The Prick said you werent going to take
me back today, I voiced my thoughts, and only after the fact did I realize I should
have kept my big mouth shut. If Alrick was going to take me back, I should have
fucking let him. Damnit. Damnit.
Im not, he chuckled.
Get lost then, I snarled, pushing past him to head down the stairs. It seemed like the
right thing to do, to storm off again, though in retrospective I should have gone back
to the balcony and just jumped off then.
Downstairs, I heard hushed, hurried voices hissing back and forth from the room over,
and my curiosity lugged me the couple of steps across the ballroom-like area to the
doorway that led to the living room. Stealth would have been smart but I didnt think I
needed it as I barged into the room to find Michael and his nameless friend hunched
over a piece of paper, both of them pointing at some text scribbled across the top.
The nameless one noticed me first from the corner of his eye, which resulted with his
palm smashing down onto the paper to block it from sight. Simultaneously, Michaels
209

shoulders stiffened as he spun around to face me, his hatred as livid as expected. He
might have lunged at me again if Alrick hadnt followed me into the room.
Still here? he gritted through angrily clenched jaws.
Still alive? I retorted, glaring back at him. For once I consciously appreciated Alricks
presence, he really did play mediator, and this time he also played the role of flesh
shield. Michael took a step toward me with clearly violent intent, and Alrick reached
out to put a hand on my shoulder as he led me into a step back.
Dont push your luck, Michael. I dont care how long youve been friends with Asher,
touch this kid again and I wont hesitate, he warned. It should have been an empty
threat, but the fact that he didnt mention what he wouldnt hesitate to do brought a
chill into the air. I chewed on my lower lip as the two men mentally weighed their
odds, the nameless one frantically glancing from me to Alrick while Michael kept his
glare focused over my shoulder. I wasnt sure what I had done to piss Michael off to
such an extent, it wasnt like he was the only one I annoyed with my comments, but
he was acting like I did so much more to him, like I ...killed his dog Ugh.. I felt sick.
Like Id waste my time. We were just leaving, anyway, Michael growled after a
prolonged period of silence. His eyes shifted down to me, probably because he lost
the glaring contest with Alrick, and he looked me over with a disgusted expression
before hissing something unintelligible to his friend. The paper was whisked off the
table, shoved into a pocket, and the two men moved to scuttle out of the room. I
turned to watch as Alrick followed them, only to see him open the doorwith a
<i>key</i>.
You have a key?! I gasped at the vague box-like object that he slid off a chain on
his keys and jammed into the door. Michael audibly damned me before slipping out,
and Alrick ignored my presence until the two extra bodies completely left the building.
With the door leading to freedom still open, I lurched forth to the opening; and just as I
tasted the fresh air, the barrier swung shut in my face. NO! I gasped, reaching out
both hands to grab at the handle. The door barely creaked, but the exertion of effort
vibrated a tangible ray of pain through my abdomen.
I immediately dropped my grip to cradle my bruise, using my tongue to press against
the back of my teeth so I could swallow my oncoming scream; the wounds were
becoming more of a burden than I originally thought.
Open the door! I ordered, furious. Use your little key thing and open it! I want to
leave!
I cant do that, he frowned, his German accent peaking with the solemn thickness
of his tone.
210

Why? WHY? Give me one reason why I have to stay here when the guy that beat the
crap out of me gets to walk out, and by the looks of it, scot-free! He doesnt even get
a slap on the wrist? I fucking knew it, he just
Calm down, Michael will get his own, Alrick attempted to soothe me, but his tactics
sucked.
Yeah, in a gift basket, I scoffed.
Listen, this is all very complicated. Michael and Asher have a history together. There
isnt much we can do for now, Sashas given him an alibi that we know is bullshit but
we cant prove any different. Hes been relieved of his duties, which has been a long
time coming. Michaels kind of like a loose cannon if you havent noticed, he smiled
again, but it didnt touch his eyes.
You want proof? I got proof! I released a hysterical laugh as I grabbed the bottom of
my shirt and hiked it up, letting the supposed father see the mess on my stomach. Is
that proof enough for you? IS IT? WELL?
Muff he paused, giving a glance over his shoulder where Jenny was watching us
from the doorway of the kitchen. <i>Alex</i>, he corrected himself, I understand
your frustration, and well get to the bottom of this, I promise you. His calm voice
bothered me, so did the steady look in his eyes. He wasnt surprised in the least by the
bruise on my bodythough he had probably seen a lot worse in his line of work. I felt a
tinge of guilt when I thought of poor Vincenzo, most likely still locked up in the hospital.
Dont call me Alex. And where the hell is The Prick? I thought he was going to
<i>assess</i> the problem, I grumbled as I dropped my shirt back down, getting
another confused look from the German bodyguard.
Hes in the conference room, he pointed over a shoulder, obscurely gesturing his
thumb in an unknown direction. I took the liberty of stepping past him to follow that
invisible line with the goal of throwing every door open until I found him, but Alrick
stepped into my way. Hes in a meeting, he added.
Do I look like I care? I mumbled. It made sense though; I assumed Asher left the
house to go to his meeting, but he said it was in fifteen minutes and it took a good
two hours to get back to the city so he did what? Had a conference room in his
house? Made everyone else come over instead? Selfish bastard.
No, but thats beyond the point. Youre not allowed in there, he sighed as he
blocked me again when I tried to sneak past him. You can see him after the
meeting.
211

I dont want to see him, I want to yell at him!

Yeah yeah, come on, he hushed, reaching out to wrap one hand around my
shoulders. I grunted against his hold as he pushed me back into the living room, away
from the hall that contained a room Asher resided in. If he hadnt spoken next, I would
have chewed his ears off. I brought you entertainment.
What? TV? Movies? A computer? I turned away from the blockade of his arm to face
the table Michael had previously blocked with his body. An overwhelming sense of
nausea hit when I saw the stack of board games sitting on the edge of the polished
wood, most of them still wrapped.
No, I coughed out a short laugh, No way. Im not playing Monopoly or Candyland
or Clueless with you.
Clue, Jennys voice came from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to give her
my best glare. Its Clue, she remedied. Not Clueless. And Ill play, Alrick.
No one asked you, my brattiness came out before I could stop it, so I tried
backtracking before she got too offended. But thats great, you can play with him
now, and Ill just be on my way. Key please? I outstretched my hand out toward the
German.
Alricks expression fell into one of disappointment, melting with depression, and a sane
part of me internally jabbed at my insides for being rude to the person exerting
kindness toward me. I got over it quickly enough, Anna and Zack had given me years
of practice. I was almost immune! ... Almost Before I knew it, I was trying to rationalize
why I would give him just one game; he tried to save Porto and me from the shoot out,
he stood up for me against Michael, and hed gotten me coffee. And a ride. And
chapstick. And coffee. I liked coffee.
Fuck, fine. One game, I held up my index finger, waving it in his face. Just one, got
it?
The more time I spent around this particular goon, the more I saw him as an overgrown
child. He practically burst into smiles when I conceded, like I was agreeing to give him
the whole candy shop instead of just one lollipop. I scowled to show my irritation while
the two moved over to the table to pick out a gameI didnt want to play, so I didnt
pipe into the deliberation, I chose a comfy seat that faced the doorway so if Asher
and his meeting people came out I could see them. Yes, I was going to play watch
dog.
How about Risk? Alrick asked no one in particular.
212

Too long, Jenny responded.

Scrabble?
I saw the maid throw me a quick glance before speaking. No. How about this?
Apples to Apples?
I was never good at that game How about..
Oh jesus, what is this, rocket science? Just pick one! I heaved a sigh. As the two
glanced at me in surprise, I leaned forward to grab the box closest to me. How fitting
that it was Clue. There, well play Clueless. Lets go, one game.
Its Clue, Jenny corrected me again. She was making it too easy for me to annoy
her.
Yeah, right, whatever, Clueless, lets go, I mumbled as I pulled the top of the box off.
Alrick cleared the rest of the table while Jenny glared at me, clearly infuriated by my
lack of compliance. I pointedly ignored her and reclined against the blissfully
comfortable chair, tucking the pillow previously behind me up alongside my stomach
to keep it warm. Several times my eyes wandered toward the empty fireplace, willing
flames to instantly burst to life, but they were disappointing and I was disappointed.

The game went by slowly; I barely paid attention. When Alrick handed me the dice, I
rolled, moved, and marked down facts I caught at random. My wandering mind
continued to compel me to glance at the doorway, continuously searching for the
familiar face I had already committed to memoryah, that reminded me! Refocusing
my attention onto Jenny, I studied her face while she laughed at something Alrick said
in an attempt to learn her eye color, but I got distracted by the downright flirting I saw.
She kept touching his shoulder, laughing at things he said, and batting her long black
eyelashes at him. Wow, she looked like Sandy when she tried for bigger tips.
Alrick, are you married? I asked, which quickly put a stop to her laughing.
Uh, no, divorced, he glanced at me with a puzzled expression. Jennys smile didnt
return, but she visually relaxed against her seat. Why?
No reason, I mumbled as I glanced down at the bright blue feather in Mrs.
Peacocks hair. The killer was Miss Scarlet.. probably, it was always the whore. She just
213

had to kill someone to piss everyone else off or because she didnt get her way. Mr.
Black probably dumped her. Hah, Liza would be a good Miss Scarlet. And Alrick? He
would be the sweet looking Colonel Mustard. Jenny, of course, would be the maid,
Mrs. White.
Who would I be?
Your turn, Jenny frowned as she pushed the dice in my direction.
I know who did it, I accused without proper preparation. Miss Scarlet, with the knife,
in the kitchen.
Both my playmates glanced down at their cards, trying to disprove me, and sure
enough Jennys face suddenly lit up with a grin as she pulled up one of her cards.
Nope, she waved the Kitchen card in my direction while Alrick reached out to grab
the tiny yellow envelope from one corner of the board. He pulled out the cards, face
up, to show Miss Scarlet, with the knife, in the ballroom. Go figure, I should have known,
Ashers entire house was a ballroom.
Oh well, looks like Im out, I dropped my cards as I scooted back into my seat.
But no one won, Alrick frowned. Almost on cue, Jenny reached out to gently brush
her fingers against his arm as she suggested another game. He agreed after a
moment of hesitation and I let my mind wander with my eyes once again fixed on the
doorway.
I felt lazy and achy. I could have downed a few more morphine pills and tried to rope
a few sheets together, like in the movies, to climb out of the balconybut I wasnt sure
if my body could handle it. What if I fell? Overdosed? <i>Died</i>? Was that really a
better option than to... get another lesson from Asher? Lesson was definitely the
wrong word, what else could I call it? Tutorial?
God, that made me feel dirty. Tutorial.
Alrick and Jenny were playing Uno now, with Alrick clearly winning. Did she let him
win? How did this crush thing work, exactly? Was it always like in the movies? I needed
Google.
I diverted my attention when Jenny put down a reverse card, which didnt make
sense because they were only playing with two people, and came to the conclusion
that she was definitely letting him win. My eyes wandered over the room, picking up
details I had missed when I first came in sleep deprived and freezing; the blue theme
continued here, with a light cerulean shade in the chairs and couches but darker tints
in the color of the walls. All the pillows were black with pale, hand-stitched designs
214

that matched the faint carving in the white wood of the table, the frame around the
mirror over the mantle, and the soft ivory marble of the fireplace itself. The room was
actually very tastefully designed, blue or not.
My eyes eventually dropped to the ground, and the items Alrick had cleared off the
table. At first, I looked over it, to the books weighing it down, but my eyes darted back
to it when I noticed Ashers name in big bold letters across the top. Quietly, I shifted
forth in my seat to push the books back and free the newspaper.
In a small corner picture, Liza stood arm in arm with The Prick, and under that was a
bigger picture taken by a crappy camera of Asher and me. I squinted at the fuzzy
image of my own face, bloody and unconscious. The perfectly suited businessman
was in the midst of picking up my broken corpse from the floor in what seemed to be
really bad lighting, but everything was too fuzzy to make out. I wouldnt have
recognized everyone in the picture if I hadnt read the heading. At the top it read:
Millionaire Asher Pickett Abandons Charity Banquette to Rescue Unknown Teen.
What is this? I jerked up the newspaper towards Alrick, poofing his smile into oblivion.
About that he paused, giving a quick glance to Jenny. Sorry Jen, could you give
us a minute?
Sure, she suddenly scooted back in her chair, placing her cards face down on the
corner of the table. Ill get us some drinks, she smiled straight at the German before
turning to walk out of the room.
Well? I urged.
Well we didnt know the librarian took the picture. She must have used a cell phone.
By the time we found out, they were already printing, he shifted nervously while I
gaped at him.
Youre kidding me.
Asher didnt think it was too bad. The media was going to catch onto you sooner or
later, and it was better this way, where we had some control over the story.
Oh he didnt think it was too bad? Is that so? My rage was already boiling.
He has a point, Muffin. They were bound to notice you hanging around Asher Pickett.
It was a miracle he even went this long without anyone recognizing him at the diner. I
told him not to go in, but he blah blah blah, I didnt care, so I cut him off.

215

I dont care! What the hell kind of publicity is this? I shook the newspaper violently.
Who said I was hanging around The Prick? He is kidnapping me, he is not a hero. He
didnt rescue me. Ugh! I grunted in disgust and threw the paper as far as I could. So
what, you guys can keep a fucking gigantic explosion hush hush but a nobody bum is
bound to be noticed?!
Keep your voice down! Alrick barked, for the first time using the same authority he
had first shown in the alleyway. I flinched back at the power in his voice, the
dominance he hadnt used with me before, and scooted back into my seat as he
stood up. Freaking out isnt going to help anyone. We have everything under control.
Youre fine, arent you? he asked tentatively, making me wonder if he was asking
about my bruises or state of mind.
I gave a nod and he backed off, sensing my unease. After getting hit one too many
times, I freaked out if a bigger, taller, stronger, older killing machine decided to tower
over mewho wouldnt?
Im sorry, I shouldnt have yelled, he sighed, dropping his voice lower after a glance
to the door. But Jenny doesnt know, and she doesnt need to. Okay?
Yeah, okay, lets protect the perfect little maid that can come and go as she pleases.
It was probably because she could flirt, thats why she got everything she wanted; like
Sandy, and probably Liza. I shrugged at his questioning look as I tilted my head away,
having once again reverted to chewing on my lower lip for emotional and physical
comfort. The flesh grew raw soon enough from my abuse, so I switched bad habits
from biting my lip to biting my nails.
A few minutes later, Jenny returned with three glasses and some Banana Muffins on a
silver platter. She set down orange juice in front of me, coffee for Alrick, and soda for
herself. Right, that looked fair. Awesome. Can I have some? I reached out for Alricks
bigger mug.
Mr. Pickett said no caff Jenny began.
Mhmm, thanks, I snatched up the cup before either person could react. The maid
glowered while I settled back into my seat, the coffee resting against my curled up
legs and stomach so that I could steal most of its warmth.
Its alright, Alrick smiled as he reached out for my orange juice instead. He didnt
seem as bipolar as Asher, but the speed of which he switched from nice-teddy-beardad-wanna-be Alrick to I-will-kill-you-where-you-stand Alrick had me questioning how
often my villains had to change who they were in their line of work. How many people
did they deceive everyday to keep secrets?

216

I sipped at the coffeenowhere near as good as Annas batchwhile they went

back to their game. I glanced at the crumpled newspaper, and the folded edge
where Liza smiled toward the ceiling. A few minutes of silence passed before I
decided to vocalize my thoughts again, essentially ruining the moment. So whats the
deal with Liza anyway?
What do you mean? Alrick asked. He kept his eyes on the card he was putting down
while Jenny spared me a quick glance.
I mean, your boss keeps touching me, I paused momentarily when Jenny choked on
her soda and Alrick whipped his head up toward me in shock, So Im guessing hes
not exactly into girls. Just a guess, though I trailed off as I redirected my eyes to
Jennys; they were brown, I mentally noted. Brown eyes and brown hair. There, now I
knew.
MAlex, stop, Alrick grunted. Did he think using a name someone else coined for
me would make me listen? Silly gangster.
I dont think I will, I grinned suddenly, struck with an idea. I wasnt trying to be an
immature brat, but maybe if I kept talking about sex they would give me more detail
about how the birds and bees actually exchanged the seed process, and how the
birds did it with other birds. Did that even make sense? Shit, I didnt know. And dont
call me Alex.
Alexander, then, he grumbled with a barefaced glance to Jenny. If you have
questions about Ashers personal life, go ahead and ask him. Damn. There went my
plan.
Not like hed tell you, I heard Jenny mumble.
What? I snapped at her, exploiting what she didnt mean for others to hear.
O-oh.. nothing Its just that, well, Mr. Pickett is a man of few words, she explained.
No hes not, I realized it when I said it. He wasnt, actually. Well, he was, but he
wasntwhen he was alone with me, he babbled like a normal human being, but
when we were around other people, he seldom spoke. Why was that? He also grinned
a lot around me, and touched and kissed Okay, no need to go down that path.
Hes not, I concluded.
Jenny and Alrick both exchanged a glance before they grinned back at me. I winced
at their united actions, hating that I couldnt read their minds. What? I huffed.

217

Come to think of it, he has been more active, since you showed up, Alrick mused.
More talkative.
What does that mean? I wrinkled my nose into my face in distaste.
That your comments are enough to push even Mr. Picketts buttons, Jenny mumbled
again.
She might have been trying to insult me, but that only made me grin. Really? I got to
him? That made me so giddy, in a sick and twisted sort of way. It wasnt conventional,
but I could probably work with it, piss him off further. I realized that my grin might give
the wrong impression though, and wiped it off my face when I noticed Alrick studying
my expression. I redirected my eyes to my coffee cup as I resumed chewing nervously
on my lip.
So wow, I was in the papers. That was new.
Well, no, not really. I dislodged my teeth from my lower lip to take another mouthful of
coffee in hopes of distracting myself from the oncoming flood of memories. Two of my
fingers entwined into my hair, looping the clean strands repeatedly as my gaze
fluttered to Jennys face. She had called me cute, hadnt she? Probably just a tease,
payback for me yelling at her before; she seemed nice though, we might have been
friends in a different world. I might have been Alricks friend too in this idealistic world,
maybe even Vincenzo, or Asher
Asher, who was standing behind Jenny and staring right at me with his awkward
grey eyes. My hand rattled against the hold on the coffee mug as I quickly sat up,
simultaneously shoving myself back against the cushioning of the couch. The
amusement I expected to see on his face didnt appear, he simply turned toward
Alrick and gave him a nod.
Excuse me, Alrick whispered to the maid, pushing his cards aside before he got up
to exit the room. As soon as they disappeared past the doorway, I put the coffee
down and stood to follow them.
What are you doing? Jenny gasped.
Eavesdropping, so shut up, I hissed at her. With one hand against the doorframe, I
tilted forward to peek around the corner until I could make out Asher and Alrick
whispering to each other. I couldnt hear anything, so I felt safe that The Prick hadnt
heard anything I said either. Though chances of embarrassment were becoming less
and less likely with all the shit he kept doing to me.

218

You shouldnt be doing that, Jennys voice came in a whisper. With a hesitant touch,
she tugged on my shoulder but I jerked away from her. Come on, stop it! Its rude.
They deserve privacy!
Privacy? Thats a laugh! I turned to lean away from the doorframe as I fixed my glare
on her face. Its not like they give me my privacy. You dont even know what youre
talking about. Youre just an annoying and inadequate cunt that obviously has the
hots for the bodyguard. Make yourself useful, go mop up the floor.
Jennys face flushed, in anger probably, and she balled her fists at her sides as she
gave a hard shake of her head. And youre a vile brat! You dont listen to what
anyone has to say, youre rude and disrespectful and and ungrateful! I tried being
nice to you but youre impossible! she vented, frustrated tears pooling in her eyes.
Before I could possibly try to fix anything, the moisture fell in streams down her cheeks.
What did I say about riling people up? Ashers cool voice grazed my ear. I jumped
when he rested a heavy hand on my shoulder, moving me out of the way so Alrick
could walk in and save the day. The goon immediately wrapped his arms around the
maid, coddling her out of her hysteria.
I didnt even say anything I sighed.
Ive never met someone so mean! Jenny sniffled.
You should get out more, I yelled at her, earning myself a jerk by the hand on my
shoulder.
He pulled me into the hallway before I could say anything else to her, and I let him
lead me into an open doorway a good few feet down while Jenny choked out
another sob. Shes just milking it now, I snarled as I swung my arm up to shrug Ashers
hand off my shoulder. The larger fingers rolled with the harsh movement, relocating
themselves down the length of my arm, above my elbow, where adequate pressure
was applied to lead me further. I almost tripped over my own feet when he jerked
me into the next room.
Cant leave you alone for long, can I? he sighed while effortlessly tossing me against
one of the walls. My spine arched against the hard surface, bending me forward with
the backlash of the original blow; I immediately bent forward to clutch at my
abdomen, but Asher didnt miss a beat. He bent forward with me, until he was down
at my level, and as I winced he hovered dangerously close to my face. His nostrils
flared with a deep inhale, then: You had coffee.
Like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar, I recoiled from him in a guilty daze.
One hand was slapped against my mouth, blocking my breath and any scent of
219

coffee beans while I continued to cradle my stomach with the other. He grinned at my
reaction, then continued to lean so his tongue grazed the back of my knuckles when
he opened his mouth to exhale.
Knock it off, I snapped quickly.
In an act of retaliation I twisted my hand so the palm faced out and pushed forth at
his facealmost instantly Ashers hand mimicked the movement, but instead of
missing the target like I did, he grabbed onto my chin and smacked my skull against
the wall. The brief, unexpected collision stunned me long enough to give him the
opening he wanted. I recognized the head-tilt before the kiss came. It was such an
intimate embrace I shouldnt have felt so familiar with.
The kiss was brief, just a small peck. Before I could deny him he retreated, which
ironically enough left me aching for more. I flattened my body against the wall so my
jumping nerves didnt send me flying after him. Black coffee, he noted, giving a lick
to his upper lip.
Asshole.
He moved over to the door, poking his head out in a rather relaxed manner to call
down the hall. I didnt understand what he said, it wasnt English, but Alrick responded
in a similar dialect. After a slight chuckle, Asher closed the door and turned back to
glance at me.
Have a seat, he gestured to the left, toward the rest of the room I hadnt bothered
to examine. Following the movement of his hand, I glanced over to a wooden oblong
table, stretching over the width of the room with six individual computer screens on
each side. Fancy office chairs lined up with the screens, but there was only one at the
headand at the opposite end a gigantic screen devoured the wall. It was safe to
assume that this was the Conference Room Alrick mentioned by the looks of it. But
why was I in it?
Why? I prodded.
Youre welcomed to stand, though I imagine itll be tiring, he stated on his way to
the head of the table with the lone chair. Taking his place on his throne, Asher leaned
forward to push a button at the bottom corner of his screen, turning it on. His index
and middle finger rapped against a small pad beside him, which brought life to the
big television on the wall and turned the lights off in the room.
I remained rooted in my spot, devoured by the darkness as my eyes snapped up to
the big blue screen. The solid color soon dissolved into a strip of black that promised

220

something was in the midst of loading, and Asher hit another button that brought back
a dimmer source of light.
What is this?
Board meeting, he explained.
Of course my curiosity instantly peakedbut it still took a few solid seconds for me to
peal myself off the wall. I wanted to listen in on his meeting, that was a given, but
every time I was near him he touched me so I singled out the seat furthest away
from him, closest to the giant loading screen.
As I sat down, the screens around the table lit up one by one. A pie chart with
abbreviations I didnt recognize flickered up in front of me, along with a statistics chart
smashed in under it. I barely skimmed the numbers when the loading screen above
dispersed into identifiable outlines of humans. With my bare feet pressed against the
carpet, I rolled back in my chair so I could get a better look at the similar oblong table
on screen and the people sitting around it.
Hello Mr. Pickett, a man sitting closest to the screenthe camera?addressed him,
then turned a bit in his seat to glance at me. And uh? he struggled to place my
face as I edged myself back further, not wanting to be in shot of the camera that was
obviously projecting our image.
Hello Mr. Jackson, Asher responded politely, never bothering to introduce me. Lets
get down to business, shall we? he leaned forward to tap on a keyboard I hadnt
noticed before. The slide on what I assumed to be a PowerPoint changed, from the
pie chart to an even more obscure graph. I watched the screens light up one by one,
identical all the way down the length of the table.
Ah, yes, of course, the Jackson character shifted in his seat again, this time ruffling
through papers in front of him. When he picked the right one, he gave a glance to the
computer screen on his right. As you can see here, our corporate-based data tables
display the results of active corporation branches reporting
Oh god, it was a real board meeting? Not a secret gang one about taking over the
world and all the poor humans in it? No wonder he was willing to let me sit in, I wasnt
going to learn anything. I swirled in my chair to glance at Asher, who was now reclined
in his seat as he listened intently to the incomprehensible information given to him. I
couldnt understand how he sat there and listened to statistics, it was so boring, so
ordinary, so unlike him.
I cupped my hand over my mouth as I licked at my lips, wondering if it really tasted like
black coffee; it didnt. Or maybe it did and I couldnt tell.
221

A few more minutes of mindless ramble about results and I wanted to shoot myself. I
sighed as a cursor ran along a scaling line before the six screens on my side changed
again, from one chart to another and that was when it clicked. Asher was typing, on
a keyboard. I glanced up to see the people on the screen glancing at their own
computers, listening to the speech.
Computers. Not just screens, but individual operating systems! Scooting forward in my
seat, I ran my hands up over the table in search of a hidden keyboard. When I didnt
find one, I dipped my hand down under, where I found a little drawer that slid out with
the glossy mouse and keyboard sitting patiently on the surface. How did PCs work
again? Ctrl, Alt, Del? Yeah, there it was.
Minimizing the PowerPoint, I popped open an Explorer window and shot straight to
Google. It sucked royally that I was stuck in this hellhole, but at least I could use my
time to my advantage! The first word I typed into the search box was obdurit. I spelt it
wrong, which is why Google suggested obdurate. I clicked on the bright blue link to
pop onto a new results page, with the definition of the word as the first option.
It meant stubbornly persistent in wrongdoings, hardened in feelings, resistant to
persuasion/softening influence, according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary. I
scowled at the classification before I gave a quick glare to Asher, where he was still
staring at the screen in front of him. I thought I saw the slightest grin on his face but I
didnt linger to study his expression any longer than necessary, the glance at his lips
had already given me a new idea.
Back on Google, I typed in my new search; kissing. The first result was a Wikipedia site,
which I avoided when I saw a much more interesting link. The Art of Kissing? I quickly
entered the site to find tales of DVD instructions on how to kiss. Really? Sure, I didnt
really know how to kisshence the search itself, but to think of a step-by-step tutorial
was unnerving on its own. There was a section on how to get boys to kiss you, flirting,
kissing with braces, how to French kiss all of which I skimmed before clicking out of
the site.
So I started another search: How do men have sex? The results sucked. I didnt know
what bareback meant, and I didnt care about sex with a bicycle, so I adjusted my
search. How do men have sex with other men? Again the results had much to be
desired, no one said how. It was all jibberish, I didnt read all of it; I backtracked
instead. I looked up bareback sexmore annoying Wikipedia sites, but a lot of results
with a familiar keyword. Gay. Gay bareback sex.
I typed it in; gay bareback sex. The second link assured videos and pictures, so I
clicked on that one right away. Pictures spoke a thousand words, after all, didnt they?

222

What an understatement that was. The pictures left nothing to the imagination.
Modesty prickled at the back of my skull as I scrolled through the page, quickly
learning just where the penis was inserted. A low chuckle ruptured from my right and I
jumped up in surprise as I let my gaze flutter to the owner of the voice; Asher was
grinning intently at his screen. He didnt glance at me, but his grin grew even larger
when I glared at him. What? What was so funny?
I glanced over to the computer screen closest to me, where a small window had
popped up at the bottom of the presentations slide. It was a miniature version of my
screen, gaybarebacksex.com and all. Heat rushed into my face as I threw my hand
out against the mouse, quickly clicking out of the site. Somewhere along the way,
everyone had stopped talking about their stupid statistics, which I hadnt noticed
before but understood most perfectly now: Everyone could see my screen.
Was it possible to die from embarrassment?
I didnt want to look up at the screen towering over me, I didnt want to see the
expression of the strangers that had just witnessed my humiliating research project.
Why hadnt anyone said anything? Why didnt they stop me?
I didnt know what to do, so I just sat there, mortified.
The silence dragged on for a few painfully harsh minutes before Asher finally decided
to speak. And the reports from the previous week? he asked casually, like everyone
hadnt just seen the extent of my perversion. I sputtered helplessly as I tipped my head
into my hands, hiding my face.
and were going to be launching an aggressive campaign to resume
Maybe if I tried hard enough, I would teleport out of the room, or turn completely
invisible. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can
Thank you, that will be all, Ashers curt response cut through my thoughts. I dragged
out enough courage to peek past my fingers when I heard the television switch off,
and a chair creaked in its roll away from the table. Both hands dropped completely
from my face when I didnt see him in his seat at the head of the table, allowing me to
widen my depth of perception.
My body tilted forward to slide out of the chair and two flesh bars came down to
immediately put a stop to my action. I jerked back into the seat in surprise, instinctively
tilting my head up to find the owner of the arms resting on the chairs handles. He
loomed predictably close to me, with no sense of personal space, and bent down to
mold his face to mine; I managed to turn away before he kissed me again, but his lips
just continued down to my ear, completely ignoring my rejection.
223

Such a curious little boy, he murmured, his breath sinking into my skin.
I just wanted to learn about it, I winced as I shrugged one shoulder up, blocking my
ear off.
You should have said so earlier, Asher chuckled. With his hands still on the handles,
he swirled my chair around to face him. I drew my legs up into me protectively or I
tried to, but he grabbed my left ankle and tugged it out before it could join the right. I
squeaked at the rough jerk that had me halfway off the chair and slanted at an
awkward position. My hands scrambled to correct my posture, to grab onto the
bottom of the chair in a counter pull against gravity and Ashers hand, but he
grabbed at my wrist with his free hand. I fell off the chair before my fingers even had a
chance to grab onto their destination.
His manipulative hands caught me before I completely collided with the floor,
effortlessly hoisting me back up to what I thought was my feet, though I quickly ended
up on the edge of the table. He pushed my chair away with one foot as he stepped
up to the rim of the woodworkhis movement was so fluid and rapid that I didnt
realize anything was wrong until he forced his hips in between my legs and wrapped
his grip around my waist.
My brain fought against denial to keep up with his actions; there was that constant this
isnt happening to me echo in the back of my head. But honestly, I needed to get
over that if I was going to survive around Asher Pickett.
Stop it, I barked predictably.
He gave a crooked grin, the twist of the lips so sinfully delicious on his finely chiseled
face that it made my arms feel wobbly when I reached out to push at his chest. You
wanted to learn, Asher almost accused.
Through research, I breathed, retreating from the tilt of his body into me.
Consider this field work, he replied calmly. His words made me want to grin, it was
awfully clever, but the hand he carefully placed against the inside of my throat froze
my expression. Lesson one, the lecture began, the promised demonstration readily
hand-in-hand with the oncoming explanation. Kissing. As soon as he spoke the word,
he brushed his lips against my mouth, urging a response from me, but my brain shorted
out again.
Move your lips against mine, he vocalized when I remained stonily frozen. To spur me
into action, his thumb drifted up from beneath my chin, up to my lower lip, where he
dug the tip of his finger into my flesh and slowly pulled down. I groaned wearily at the
224

next brief touch that came, because I could taste him, the obscure mix of bitterness
and sourness that tinged my taste buds. Tactfully, he brought his lips down on my lower
one, suckling the flesh in a comforting fashion; simultaneously his teeth grazed my skin
in a nibble that felt strangely appealing. Move your lips, he purred into my mouth.
I did. I brought my mouth down on his upper lip, mimicking the movement he showed
me. Thats it, he assured me in a cooing murmur. At that moment I honestly thought I
was doing a good job, it didnt matter what I was doing, just that I was doing
Good, he whispered. My heart fluttered anxiously in my chest with the travel of his
other hand, from my waist to the back of my head. He gathered a fistful of hair in his
grip and lightly tugged, sending prickles of goose bumps down the back of my neck.
It felt captivating, but unfamiliar, like the fuzzy edges of an unfocused photograph. I
knew what was supposed to be there, but I was unsure of its meaning. Was it abuse or
affection? His actions tinkered in between, completely blowing away my poor
adolescent mind. His lips felt so loving, so soft and sweet that I thought I would just melt
into them, but the constant pull on my hair kept me aware, never letting me slip into
any sort of daze. I wanted to slip into a daze, see, because then I could just blame my
lack of self control on something else, but he kept me actively participating at all
times.
And then his tongue came, which I didnt think I would ever get used to; it felt so slick
and alien, always invading on my personal space. I groaned as I twisted away from it
and for once he let me, probably because he figured he had me hooked already.
He was right.
The escape was momentary. Asher soon followed, licking at the surface of my lips,
caressing the skin that already felt dry and brittle without his warmth. There was no kiss.
He was pulling my strings once more, elevating my breathing to a dangerous level as
he teased me with his fleeting touch. The urge to take what he was no longer giving
built up in my stomach, pushing its way up to my throat, stabbing my insides with tiny
pins that tensed my muscles up the longer he kept his proximity. There was no kiss. I
didnt try to rationalize my thoughts this time; my hands lashed out to his shirt and
pulled instinctively.
He grinned into my lips while I tried desperately to recreate the embrace from before,
the safe, comfortable touch that felt so strangely unique I felt the need to hold onto it.
I must have graduated with honors in my eagerness, because he suddenly pulled
away and held up two fingers in front of my lips to stop me before whispering, Lesson
two.
Fuck, what was I doing?

225

I paid no attention to the slight pang of pain in my stomach as he pushed me flat on

my back on the table. My mind didnt drift, didnt race, didnt wander, I was
completely focused on Asher when he climbed up to join me. Foreplay, he finally
headlined the second lesson. A lump shot up in my throat with the presence of his
hands on my sides, not hiking up my shirt like earlier but instead just peeking under the
fabric. I sucked in my breath beneath the pinprick of his touch, already able to feel
the discomfort rising.
He considerately returned his mouth to mine to distract me, where I got a chance to
continue practicing lesson one. I didnt know how to arrange my hands in the new
position, so I brought them up to his facethats what everyone did in the movies,
after all. When I made contact with his cheeks and felt the faint hints at a stubble, it
suddenly became blaringly apparent that I had <i>never</i> intentionally touched
him before. It was such an unnerving thought, to think that this was my first voluntary
contact with him; every other time I was trying to defend myself, I never wanted to
touch him before.
It freaked me out, so I withdrew my hands back to my sides. Asher laughed quietly into
my mouth, sending the ripples of vibration from his throat to my lips. Shut up, I hissed,
flustered.
Youre quite amusing, he murmured against my skin. Are you afraid to touch me?
No, I grounded out stubbornly. He pulled back enough to let me see his face, with
that dastardly grin still curving his lips. Im not, I insisted. Before I saw the hole I was
digging, I reached out to grab onto his tie, determined to prove myself; it didnt come
loose at first, I didnt know what to do to undo a tie so I only ended up repeatedly
tugging on his neck. He laughed at my clumsy hands and lack of experience again,
shamelessly mocking me.
I failed to figure out the voodoo magic of his tie even after several tries, so he finally
reached up to loosen it for me; first he tugged to the left, slid the widened loop to the
right, and tugged left again. Ooh. Thats how you did it.
I didnt remember where his hands were until he replaced his fingers back under my
shirt, on either side of my abdomen. Foreplay, my brain reminded me. We were still on
lesson two.
Whats foreplay? I hastily asked when he started leaning back toward me. I had a
faint idea, but hey, if he was willing to teach why not ask?
Stimulation, the answer came abruptly, very short and to the point and vague.
Asher didnt disappoint though, he kept up the pattern of giving an example of
everything he brought up; as he spoke, his hands drifted up over my ribcage, evading
226

the bruise on my stomach to go directly to my chest. Just like in the shower, his rough
fingers ran over my nipples, flicking the peculiar body parts I didnt quite understand.
Why were they there? Their function flew over my head, I never found nipples very
useful. Not for men.
My shirt was rolled up to my collarbone, stuffed under my arms to completely bare my
torso. I winced at the cold air that grazed my bruise before I gasped at the
contradicting warmth that touched my skin. So that was what nipples were forokay,
probably not, but it felt unusually enticing to have his mouth wrapped around the
sensitive flesh. A moan ruptured through my throat when his teeth grazed the
hardened nub, bolting shards of familiar electricity down my torso. I didnt want him to
stop. Ever. In a frantic attempt to keep him there, I tangled both set of fingers into his
hair and pushed his face into my chest.
Disapproving of my actions, Asher reached up immediately to unravel my grip from
the light brown strands. With my hands tightly in his grip, he lowered them down until
they were back in my personal bubble and then silently reached up to my sides. The
domineering act pissed me offthough it might have been just the result he was
looking forit annoyed me that he was so aggressive in his advances but when I tried
to dynamically experiment he made it look like we had to stick to his unspoken rules.
Well, that wasnt going to happen.
My new irritation racked up enough bravado to kick-start a new stream of
stubbornness. I purposefully grabbed at his hanging tie, yanking on it to bring him back
down to my level as I picked my head up off the table. His hands flew off my sides to
slam against the table, balancing him before he could topple over from my
unpredicted force. I could still feel him grinning when I tried to kiss him with the same
fluid motions he demonstrated; suckling, nibbling, I tried them all. He didnt cave into
my lousy seduction like I fell victim to his, so I pushed my limits further. Just as he had
regained his composure, I shot my hand up from his tie, to the collar of his shirt. As
quickly as I could, I undid the first two buttons, and with my goal in mind I shoved my
hand into the depths of his shirt.
I could picture the smooth skin Id already seen, the pale casing that seemed so
untouched and snow-like to me. I was going to reenact his second lesson, but the
angle of my arm didnt let me really reach for his chest. I would have to twist my arm
awkwardly to get any sort of friction. Consequently, I looped my arm up around his
torso instead and bent it at the elbow so my fingers could clutch at the flesh below his
shoulder blade. He bucked against my action and my nails raked down his skin,
slipping from the soft flesh to the rigid outline of his ribcage.
Something in him snapped. He lost the slow coolness of his actionssuddenly he was
roughly dragging me down the length of the table, closer to him as he jerked up on
227

my thighs to elevate my ass off the wooden surface. I choked on my air supply, my
head spinning with the fervor that flooded my senses. His hands wrapped my legs
around his waist while he blatantly ground his crotch against mine, a thrusting motion I
now realized meant he wanted to enter me. Oh fuck, and now I knew exactly where
he wanted to go.
My spine very quickly tired of my uncomfortable position half-twisted off the table and
half-bent beneath his towering form. I mewled painfully with his next dry hump, which
sent the discs of my spine into a collision, but his feverish actions continued.
In that moment he needed something, and from the way he pawed at me it seemed
like I could give it to him. Barebacksex.com faintly reminded me of what it could be:
how bad would it be? Would it hurt? My thoughts muddled while he pulled on my
body again, driving one hand under my weight to cup the small of my back and
levitate me higher, tighter against him.
I surprised him again when I dug my blunt nails into his back. He gave a soft moan to
my rough playwas that the same as foreplay? and suckled on my lips while he led
one hand from my thigh into the breech of my pajama pants. The tips of his fingers
stroked my brooding erection, teasing it with a transitory touch.
I wondered what his penis looked like.
It was then that I knew Id completely lost all my sanity, my self-control, when that
abrupt thought spiked my libido through the roof. How big was he? How thick? What
would it feel like if he were inside of me? I whimpered desperately against his mouth.
Within a few blurred seconds, he dropped my lower body back down to access my
arms. He fished one of my wrists out of his shirt and snatched the other from clutching
the tie, moving them both into the grip of one hand that escorted them over my
head. My upper torso stretched gradually in the new position, making me feel even
more vulnerable than before.
What? I panted, squirming uncomfortably. Why did you stop?
Thats sufficient education for one day, he purred.
I was completely stunned. It took me a moment to find my voice. What?
Another day. His voice dripped with condensation. If he werent talking to me, I
would have supposed he was addressing a child.
Fine, then Id act like a child. Thats not FAIR! I growled suddenly, kicking my legs out
against his sides in a building temper tantrum. You fucking bipolar bastard, stop
228

switching your multiple personalities! My whining spurred another chuckle out of him,
a pleasant sound regardless of how much inclining hatred I had bubbling for him. It
was a stretch to say I wanted to get fucked, I didnt even know what that meant, but
to bring me on such an euphoric high and then abruptly retreat was not only
manipulative, it was downright cruel. Hed taken me too far. I wanted a release.
Fuck, my erection hurt.
You cant just stop! I wailed as I tried to writhe my wrists free.
Lesson four. Im the teacher. What I say goes, he instructed. With one more futile kick
from me, he released my wrists and backed off to give me a chance to sit up. I
obligingly followed, rocking my weight so I could sit in front of him at the edge of the
table.
Maybe Ill get a different teacher, then. I had no idea why I was playing along with
his metaphor. It was a horrible choice. Youre fucking fired! Never mind that I hadnt
directly asked him to be my teacher.
Asher readjusted the front of his shirt, buttoned the collar back up and fiddled with his
tie to tighten it as he looked me over. His grin was as pompous as his speech, the
bastard. With a self-assuring cough, he patted at his suit jacket to send ripples through
the expensive fabric that had the wrinkles shaken out of existence. Ah, but you wont
find a better teacher elsewhere. Both grey eyes pointedly shot down to the tent in my
pants.
I followed his gaze, and with embarrassment shoving heat into my cheeks I slapped
both hands down to cover my hardened cock. Youre such a pretentious prick, I
panted.
And you, my little Muffin, are an ordinary, horny, hormonal boy thats going to be
begging me to fuck him by the end of the week, he promised confidently.
The dam holding my dignity together instantly ruptured. No commonsensical
explanation could shed light on why I felt the urge to molest and murder him at the
same time. If his plan was to sexually frustrate me, he had succeeded. If his plan was
to make me detest him so much that I would willingly conspire in his assassination, he
had succeeded. I hadnt decided which need would win though. Not yet.
Im pleased you dont disagree, Asher commented when I didnt snap back
immediately.
Okay, kill. Yes, I really wanted to strangle him.

229

Youre nothing but a prudent tease, I lashed out, perturbed. It was so unfair, why did
he keep teasing me? With my brief outburst, my audacity leveled substantially. I bet
youre impotent.
That wiped the crooked grin off his face! Hah! He gave an almost irritated glance to
the silver watch on his wrist, like he was checking to see if he had enough time to
prove me wrongmy hormones were hoping beyond hope that he did. I tried to keep
my own expression from teetering into the needy zone as I spoke, Or maybe your
penis is just really small and youre afraid to show it to me. I paused, not sure if my
tactic would work. He only dropped his hand back to his side, unaffected. Damn, I
should have stuck with impotent.
Are you finished? He didnt sound like he was going to be incensed by my juvenile
attempts.
I dont know, are you going to finish what you started? I grumbled as I resisted
pointing at the erection I was still trying to hide.
I believe you already know how to do that, he went back to grinning. I didnt think I
would ever miss his stony stoicism but that dirty grin had me second-guessing myself.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Fine. Yes. I knew how to masturbate now.
He lingered for perhaps a minute longer than necessary. I had to wonder if he
planned on watching, if there was some sick fetish he had that I didnt know about. I
bit on my lower lip as he finally turned to walk out of the Conference Room, leaving
me alone with all the dead computers.
I pushed my hand into my pants as soon as the door closed. Thinking of the second
lesson, foreplay, did wonders in helping regain what arousal I had lost with the crude
discontinuation. I rubbed my member vigorously with one fist while I lowered the fabric
of my pants with my other hand to free the aching erection. It jutted upward, rigid and
in desperate need of immediate affection. I ran my thumb over the slit, gathering up
the emission to add moisture to my stroking hand. The skin-on-skin appeal didnt feel
bad, just weird, not at all like the smooth way Asher caressed my penis in the shower. I
blamed it on the lack of moisture, not the lack of Ashers hand.
My lips felt lonely; they wanted to either twist into a moan or suckle on something that
wasnt there. I compensated for that-thing-I-didnt-want-to-think-about-or-admit by
grabbing a fistful of the fabric of my shirt to shove it into my mouth. Even the familiar
throbbing of my bruise couldnt stop me now; I was too far gone, so close to the edge.
I tried to speed up the momentum of my hand but my arm was already beginning to
cramp. I wasnt used to this. I didnt know how. I couldnt..
230

Oh god! Yes I could. I moaned into my shirt when the feeling finally hit me. My balls
tightened against the table, sending a fury of semen up through the length of my
penis and into my awaiting hand. I cupped my palm over the tip as my legs flew out
to the chair closest to me, balancing me while my hands were otherwise
preoccupied.
I panted bitterly against the material in my mouth as a knock came to the door.
Alex? Are you okay? Alrick, of course. He really insisted on calling me Alex.
Dont come in! I squealed in fear the moment the door cracked open.
Oh, uh.. okay.. We were just leaving and I was wondering if you needed anything?
Fuck did he ever choose a bad time to show up. I hastily jerked the shirt off my back to
clean myself up, first my hands, then my crotch. I balled the spoiled cloth up beneath
my arm as I tried a confident stride over to the door with the impending feeling that I
looked horrible. To the best of my ability, I tried to put on an angry and annoyed
expression, not wanting to give away what I had just done on Asher Picketts stupid
oblong table.
Alas, I was already counting how many days were left until the end of the week.
By the time I opened the door, I convinced myself that I wasnt confused: I knew what
I wanted. I knew what I wanted to get from Asher. My handle trembled lightly on the
doorknob as I tilted my head back to glance at Alricks puzzled expression, with my
mind attempting in a bittersweet way to soothe my insecurities.
I had to wonder though, what was lesson three?

231

Fucking.
Yeah, fucking was probably lesson three. It was the logical step, unless there was one
after foreplay I didnt know about. Come to think of it, I didnt know much about
foreplay either. The couples in my books always just fucked.
I needed to read better books.
Yeah, I do need something, I piped up the moment I noticed Alrick giving a peculiar
glance to the rolled up shirt in my possession. Could he smell the sex? Did sex have a
smell? We didnt technically have sex
What is it? His eyes snapped back to my face.
To leave, I tried, but he predictably smiled and shook his head. Fine, then can I
have some books? Im going to go insane staying here. Its so boring. What a horrible,
horrible lie. Nothing about being around Asher bored mebut when he left, I did get
bored.
Sure, Alrick broke out into smiles again. A heavy hand chucked its way to my head,
and I winced in anticipation for him to mess my hair up but instead he smoothed the
strands down the side of my head. It was too intimate. I didnt like it. I was barely
getting used to the fact that Asher kept touching me like that, so I threw one hand up
to push his away. What kind? he laughed.
The sex kind. Uhm How to put this delicately? I wasnt sure if I could ask him for SexEd books. He might start treating me younger than whatever age he thought I was,
which I assumed was ten at this point. If he dropped me to age five, he might start
carrying me around. Fuck, I couldnt do it. New releases?
No problem, he beamed, an action that faintly reminded me of Zack. I felt a pang
of longing churn my stomach, pulling the curtains on my short-lived orgasm high. I
missed Anna, Zack, Sandy even Cassandra. I missed my diner.

232

Are you sure you cant take me back? I whispered in a tip forward. Just for a bit?
He hesitated, but only for a second. No, he sighed. I cant. Reporters are searching
for you right now like rabid hound dogs. Itd be best if you stayed here. When he saw
my fallen expression, he added, If you go to the diner now they might get publicity
they dont want.
Wasnt any publicity good publicity?
Being selfish was never an attribute I consciously admired about myself, but its part of
humanity and therefore inevitable. So I didnt mind rudely sneering at Alrick when he
denied me. So I have to stay here because you fucked up? No, wait, I held up a
hand to stop any speech on his part, Because Michael fucked me up. Yeah, that
sounds right.
Sorry kid, mumbled Alrick. After another small pat to my head, he turned to walk
down the hall where Jenny was waiting for him. It only occurred to me then what he
said before. We. He said We were leaving. Did that mean the maid, too?
Wait, shes leaving too? I blurted.
Almost on cue, Asher appeared at the doorway of the kitchen. I caught sight of him
past the railing of the stairs when I followed Alrick to the front door. He had a drink in
his hand, which he casually sipped at as he watched Jenny put her coat on. It was
probably bourbon. Jesus, he was such an addict.
Yeah, its getting late, Alrick answered for her.
We were going to get some food, Jenny piped in. I dont think she wanted to hurt
me this time, there was no malice on her face, but she dug that traitorous knife right
into my spine. Jealousy overwhelmed my senses.
I want to go, my voice cracked. Everyone was leaving? I was going to be left alone
in the house? A desperate sense of yearning throbbed in my chest, that familiar ache
that convinced me I was claustrophobic and needed to get out. I wasnt kidding
before when I said I couldnt stay indoors for long, the very idea of being trapped
somewhere had my skin crawling.
All eyes switched onto Asher, the clear leader of the pack, the one who called all the
shots. A tremble loosened the tight muscles in my knees when I saw him turn away,
slinking back into the kitchen. The answer was a clear, blinding no.
Within a matter of seconds I had charged my way into the kitchen with him, ready to
bite his head off. I couldnt stay here, didnt he understand? Didnt he know it was
233

cruel to keep me caged? His outline faded behind the open kitchen door, his body
bent at an awkward angle to peer inside. Why are you doing this to me? I quivered.
Ill give you a proposition, he hummed as he corrected his posture. Two bottles of
water emerged from behind the closing fridge door, both beaded with cold
perspiration. He sat them down on the black marble counter and slid them in my
direction. Drink both and Ill take you out later.
When is later? I gritted.
He stole a quick glance at his watch then looked back up at me. I have a dinner
reservation at eight. Youre welcomed to join me, a pause, If you drink the water.
The ridiculous crusade to get me off of caffeine and keep me hydrated made
absolutely no sense. It was none of his business. A single drop of water trickled down
the side of the bottle as we slid back into an encasement of silence. Behind me, I
heard the door softly click shut: it didnt take much to guess that Alrick and Jenny had
taken their exit.
I was quickly running out of options.
I dont like water, I stated stubbornly.
I didnt tell you to enjoy it, just to drink it. Another pause. Is it the taste?
The room rocked violently to one side, then tipped unsteadily to the other. I stumbled
the last few steps to an empty stool and plopped down so I wouldnt end up meeting
the floor with my face. The soiled shirt under my arm was quickly relocated to my lap,
where my fingers stabbed into the soft surface. No, I breathed shakily.
His hand wrapped quietly around one of the bottles, leaving clear trails behind with
one efficient stroke down the length. Once at the base, he pushed it closer to me.
Phobia?
That word triggered an unwelcomed memory that quickly blurred my vision: Anna
stood quietly in the doorway, wringing her purse in both trembling hands. The man in
the white suit touched her arm, murmured something in her ear, and she choked out a
sob with a frantic glance thrown my way. She ran two fingers through her hair,
brushing it back to tuck it repeatedly behind one ear: an action I later learned meant
she was worried. I could barely hear the doctor Aquaphobia may manifest itself
through a traumatic water experience. A near drowning or just having witnessed one
is enough. The instinctive fear is

234

The present world dissolved back into focus, bringing the puzzle pieces of Ashers face
together. No, I repeated once I reclaimed my breath. I wasnt afraid of drinking
water really, I wasnt
The color? he tried again. I decided to humor his fascination: I nodded. The grey
eyes gave me a thoughtful look, not yet positive if they trusted me, but after a faint
sigh Asher turned back to the refrigerator. I watched him shuffle through the hidden
items inside before he fetched another bottlea grenadine bottle. Memories gushed
into my head again: Anna used to do that, she changed the color and taste of water
so I would drink it. Jason once added an unnecessary amount of vanilla extract, and
Zack grounded him for a week.
Wow, that felt like yesterday.
I raised a hand up to the back of my neck, stretching four fingers across the steps of
my spinal cord while I curled my thumb against my shoulder. Thinking about the past
always made me so tired. My chest brushed the edge of the counter when I lowered
my head closer to the surface, my hand quietly rubbing at the side and back of my
neck. Asher kept his head tilted away from me, one hand cracking open the top of
the first bottle and steadying it with the other as he released a few drops of the
grenadine past the opening.
Why are you so insistent on keeping me around? I pushed through my drying lips.
You amuse me, he stated without missing a beat. I was a television set, a book, a
pet, just amusement. I assure you this is all voluntary. I keep you around because
youre a source of entertainment. Keeping you healthy maintains that leisure. Now
drink. He pushed the water closer to me.
Jerk.
And the whole lesson thing? Thats for amusement, too?
Yes.
You dont have to make me feel worthless all the time, you know, I groaned as I
turned my face to bury it against the inside of my arm. I wont hold it against you.
Wouldnt you?
I grinned at the question, unable to deny the implications behind it. Youre right, I
probably would, I snickered as I picked my head up.

235

The silence that came wasnt uncomfortable nor inviting, it was a dangerous in
between quietly hinting at an equal tolerance that shouldnt have existed. Cats and
Mice werent supposed to agree on the meaning of life.
I disrupted the moment by reaching out to the bottle sporting newly pinked liquid. The
soiled water sloshed against the structure of the plastic, rippling through the ridges
denting the container. My lips wrapped around the tip to keep the fluid sealed inside,
and while Asher watched me I tilted the bottle up to send the water down my throat.
After a few breaths through my nose, I drained the first bottle and stabbed the empty
recyclable down on the container just as my host diluted the second bottle.
It was hard to finish the succeeding one, my stomach was already bloated with the
initial amount of fluid and my bladder knew it would have to pay for it later. The
awkward discomfort I should have felt sitting half naked in front of a man I practically
just jacked off to essentially caught up with me. My wavering attention focused on the
rhythm of a distant clock, ticking in sync with my escalating heartbeat.
Ill go get dressed, I supplied. Asher gave a small nod and I hopped off my chair.
Right, that wasnt awkward or anything. I followed the trail of stairs to the hallway,
back to the confinements of the original blue roomthe one with clothes that fit me. I
didnt care what I wore, I grabbed jeans, a shirt, a hoodie and I was out of there. After
littering my old clothes on the floor, I stopped momentarily in Ashers room to steal the
morphine pills and then returned downstairs to linger by the door, itching to get
outside again.
He was still in the kitchen, his cup cradled in one hand. Are you going to drive
drunk? I asked.
Its tea, he pointed out, tilting his drink toward me so I could see the dark fluids
color.
Sure it is, I clicked my tongue against my teeth. He gave a shake of his head and
chuckled before he gingerly set his tea down. His hands trifled through his pockets, on
his way toward me, their touch resonating the sound of metal clashing as he towed
out his keys. I briefly searched for a replica of Alricks key, then realized that he had the
print to open the door without the box-like object.
He demonstrated the fact flawlessly, gliding his finger over the latch above the handle
which triggered a soft click from the lock. Shoes, he pointed out quickly, before I
could rush into the outside world. I scowled at the command but complied with fresh
air just within my reachthe green converse Id been given before sat haphazardly
against one corner leg of an antique looking, small table. I snatched them up, thrust

236

my feet into them, and once again overlooked lacing them as I stomped over to the
door.
Although cold, the evening air felt absolutely exhilarating. A smile tugged at the
corners of my lips as I bounced down the stairs, away from the large house behind me
and to the faint road leading the way away from pavement. Asher stalked past me,
leading the way to a navy blue car parked to the left of the house. I didnt follow him; I
had just gotten out, I didnt want to go back into something, so I wandered off
towards the gates.
The sound of the engine blasted an uncomfortable tremor through my skin, reminding
me that I would have to get inside the deathtrap to get back to my own territory.
Wheels lopped over the cement and sand, crushing it with the car rolling toward me in
reverse. Im afraid walking isnt an option, he yelled from the drivers side as both
front windows rolled down.
I took in a deep breath to steady my insides, to silence the voice at the back of my
head that screamed for me to run <i>away</i> from the car. I could do this, yeah, Id
be fine! Regardless of my forced determination, my hand shook when I reached out to
open the door for myself.
The tremble in my fingers continued even after I was buckled in and safely tucked into
the car. I made a point of leaving my side unlocked, in case of emergencies, and
pressed my back as tightly against the chair as I could to ground myself. The cars
lurch forward sent most of my intestines into my throat. Desperately in need of a
distraction, I picked the first thing I sawwell, heard. Youre so predictable, I
groaned at the echo of classical music that leaked from the cars speakers. What is
that? Chopin?
Close, he grunted, reaching out to push a button through the lowered window to
open the iron gates. His pupil.
I grinned at the memory of a faded voice that gave me the information Asher
omitted. Carl Filtsch.
Surprise flickered across his face, momentarily tensing his muscles. The look he gave
me hinted that I wasnt supposed to know that detail, and I hunched further in my seat
as I rejected his gaze. Oops.
If Asher was curious, he didnt voice it. There were no questions, so I gave no answers.
The CD changed from Filtsch to Chopin to Beethoven, and he drove at a steady 80
mph down the windy road leading toward the freeway. The expensive car barely
creaked when the car boosted to 110 mph, so I didnt notice the transition until I stole
another glance at the speedometer.
237

Slow down, my voice cracked.

Youre safe, he promised.
Anxiety spread thorns in my stomach, even blooming a bright red rose that clogged
my airway as the car whizzed through traffic. I pounded my feet down into the floor of
the car and squeezed my eyes shut, attempting futilely to hold back the urge to
hyperventilate and pass out in the seat. SLOW DOWN! I screeched.
Momentum dislodged my heart from my body, levitating most of my internal organs
into the air before my body caught up with it. The screech of tires compelled me to
open my eyes in time to witness the scenery whizzing by at an angled blur. I gasped as
the car slowed from 110, to 80, to 60, and then finally to a steady 30 mph. My eyes
dashed to the red traffic light overhead, which was probably the only reason Asher
eventually came to a stop. My heart beat erratically in my throat.
Oh my g I panted. The car lurched into motion again, sending my voice rolling
down my throat. We hit another deserted road past a few more traffic lights, resulting
in an undeserved sense of nausea on my part, and by the time we reached actual
streets the sun was past its setting point.
Asher pulled up in front of an intricately decorated restaurant. The valet threw me a
dissecting glance when he opened the door for me, and once my attire came to his
attention he looked more confused than anything. I cupped one hand over my mouth
to help keep my urge to vomit at bay, which the guy in the red vest noticed so he
quickly moved out of my way.
Good, I wanted to make my escape as soon as possible.
Oh, Mr. Pickett, the valet piped up, sounding pleasantly pleased. I realized why
when I noticed Asher slip him a big tip along with his keys. Ill take good care of her
for you, sir, he gave a jingle of the keys.
Thank you, Michael, Asher replied. I scowled at the familiar name, gave a glare to
the valet, and turned to strut off. Wrong way, the pale haired businessman huffed as
he reached out to grab onto the hood of my sweater.
Speaking of Michael, I snapped, twirling around to free the fabric from his grip.
What happened to <i>assessing</i> the situation?
I havent forgotten.

238

I tried to study his face, to measure his sincerity, but his mask was already locked in
place. You... I growled. My voice trailed off when a set of voices rose above the
already booming sound of traffic and the bustling public. Asher and I both turned to
glance down the sidewalk, where a couple stood adjacent to a pole and a bum
sitting against it.
Did you see that? He touched me! the woman screeched. Arent you going to do
anything about this, Jonathon? she balked at her companion.
Hes such a filthy low life, Jess. I dont want to catch anything, he hissed loud
enough for the passing pedestrian to hear.
Im sorry, the bum mouthed, pulling back his upturned palm in shame.
Callous, arrogant bastards.
My eyes burned with repressed emotion that pulsed through my fingertips, all the way
up my arms, to the lump forming in my throat. No one stopped the man from inching
forward and kicking the bums cup, toppling the cheap Styrofoam and the change
inside it over onto the sidewalk. No one stepped in when the woman screamed at the
bum again, making him huddle further into a tight ball. No one cared.
True to my bad habits, I acted on whim, with little thought supporting my rash
decisions. I was never one for chivalry, I cared nothing for the womans yelp when I
reached out with both hands to grab onto her shoulder and topple her off her
expensive stilettos. Her partner barely caught her before she collided with the pole
behind them.
What do you think youre doing?! She bellowed at me.
Shut up you coldhearted bitch! I seethed. What the fuck is your problem? Hes just
a helpless old man!
Hah, she twisted her face into an expression of scorn. Hes not a <i>person</i>, hes
trash. And he got my brand new Leoffler Randall shoes dirty. Do you realize how much
these cost? She pointed down.
Did you just compare a human being to your shoes? I gasped.
Theyre worth more than he is, she dismissed him carelessly. I watched the old man
pull tighter into himself, probably embarrassed beyond recognition.

239

You conceited whore, I coughed a dry laugh of disbelief. Do you honestly think
youre better than him? And all because you can afford expensive clothes that arent
really worth shit to begin with?
Whoa there, her spineless boytoy finally piped in. Watch it, kid. Dont insult my wife
like that. Why do you care anyway? Hes just an addict that wants money to buy more
drugs, or alcohol.
Haughty son of a I panted, rage taking my ability to shape complete sentences.
From my right, Ashers form calmly strode past me to make his way over to the pole.
The bitchy couple took a step back to allow him room, where he knelt down to the
withered old mans level. Even past the onslaught of traffic, his voice was clear:
Would you like to join us for dinner?
An uncomfortable warm feeling exploded in my chest. I couldnt tell if it was respect
for my villain or triumph over seeing the simultaneous shame and shock on the
offending couples faces. At that point it could have been both.
The old man hesitated at first, unsure of the offer, but Asher gave him all the patience
in the world to make his decision. He even started to pick up the fallen change,
replacing it in the dirty cup. We wont go far, he added, in case the stranger
thought he was going to be taken somewhere and chopped up for his organsmuch
like I had.
Sensing a trustworthy trait in Asher I never had the pleasure of seeing, the man agreed.
With Ashers help, he unfolded himself from his dirty little heap and shakily leaned on
the taller form.
Hey, arent you? the rude woman with the Randall shoes whispered as Asher
passed her. He ignored her beautifully, seemingly focused on helping the dirty
homeless man work the cold out of his muscles the few short steps toward the opening
of the restaurant. He missed a step, almost toppling over, so I dropped my crusade
and rushed over to grab his other hand.
I expected trouble with the matre d', but he took one look at Asher and opened up
the door for us. From there, he led the way to a large table towards the right side of
the restaurant, with a perfectly extravagant view. Asher helped the old man into a
chair that I pulled out, and the matre d' quietly fetched three menus. Meanwhile, the
rest of the customers threw uneasy glances at us, which I doubted anyone at our table
wasnt accustomed to.
What is your name? Asher inquired politely.

240

Walter, the old man answered.

Samson, may we have a warm drink for Mister Walter? he raised one hand, signaling
a well-dressed man over. I hesitantly sat down across the table from him, next to
Walter, unsure of what to do. A few seconds later, our Asher-professed waiter returned
with a hot cup of I dont know. I had no idea what it was, but Walter seemed to like
it.
The full set of crystal champagne glasses on the table dazzled the eye, reflected back
by strategically placed mirrors that made the restaurant seem much larger. The beige
color of the chairs accented the maroon streaks that designed the carpet and walls,
some of which were black, some wood. Black metal skillfully crafted into twists and
turns separated a fountain from the eating area, with tactically placed lights that
spread the designs as shadows across the walls. I shifted uncomfortably in the luxurious
scene, feeling understandably out of place.
I had to admit, I didnt expect Asher to take this specific course of action. Violence,
maybe. Indifference, very likely. But this?
Walter chose something he couldnt pronounce on the menu, so Asher ordered for
him. My own appetite wasnt on my mind, Id never technically planned on joining the
dinner reservation, but Id once again gotten myself roped into Ashers business. I
gravitated my eyes toward him, to the menu he held propped up in front of him. Thin,
curved print spelled out <b>le ciel noir</b> at the bottom left corner: I knew that
word, noir<, from my movies. It meant black in French, right?
Would you like anything, Muffin? Asher peeked over the edge of his menu.
Not hungry I whispered quietly.
This is awfully nice of you, Walter chuckled throatily. I was glad for his interruption; it
took the grey eyes off me.
My pleasure, Asher replied.
The waiter fetched water for me, brought a dead animal on a plate for Walterwhich
he hungrily attackedand filled one of the wine glasses for Asher. I thought I saw a
few people pull out their cell phones to take pictures while the three of us sat in
awkward silence.
Twilight Zone, anyone?
My uncharacteristic diffidence wasnt because of embarrassment or discomfort, only
humility. The respect Asher received baffled me; no one bothered us about Walters
241

smell, filth, or presence; no one kicked me out for not wearing a suit and tie, and no
one asked questions unless it pertained to our preferences of food and drink. More so, I
hadnt expected the act of kindness.
The hum of conversation soon swept up the other side of my table. Asher indulged
Walter in an exchange of information, letting the withered old man speak about his
past and hardships.
I glanced down at the menu in front of me, using one hand to gently brush my touch
against the outline of the binding. The material was beautiful, glittering a different
shade of gold when the light hit it at different angles; I focused on the abstract design
of the paper so I wouldnt but I wanted to and eventually my eyes inclined
towards Asher.
His gaze ceremoniously met mine, then drifted over my shoulder. Before I knew it, he
was standing up and reaching towards meover me, where his hand locked into
another. I shrank into my seat as he greeted someone behind me in a language I
couldnt quite place, though it sounded awfully close to French. The newcomer
walked around my seat, pulled out a chair beside Asher, and graciously greeted the
rest of the table.
I didnt look at the new stranger, but I did notice some papers he pulled out, with a
pen, for Asher to sign.
Excuse me, I said in an undertone. The two bottles of water had already caught up
with me so I made a quick get away to the bathroom, which took me several minutes
to find. I had to stop and question two waiters to point me in the correct direction.
So there really had been a dinner meeting? Asher was such a busy entrepreneur, I
didnt know how he had time for anything else.
Relieving my bladders pressure felt absolutely blissful. I washed my hands, splashed
water on my face, and snatched a mint from a gold bowl at one end of the sink. My
fingers wrestled with the candys wrapper on my way back out of the bathroom
when I got lost trying to find the table again. I couldnt exactly ask for directions this
time
But I didnt have to stay, either.
Your party is waiting for you by the door, sir, the familiar matre d signaled me out
before any escape plans could be formulated. I groaned lightly at his overachieving
perceptiveness, angry that he remembered my face, and made my way towards the
only obvious exit. Walter was chatting excitedly with Asher, who actually didnt seem
to mind the rant. He leaned in a relaxed pose beside the tainted cover of the front
242

doors, his coat draped over his arm, nodding in sync with Walters words. They both
glanced up at me when I approached them.
What? I grumbled at the unwanted attention.
Asher ignored my sourness. So youre sure you dont want that ride? he turned back
to Walter. The old man, looking much brighter than when he first walked in, gave a
shake of his head. Right, then. My offer still stands, dont hesitate to call, he droned
on. I didnt know what they were talking about, but the insinuation warmed my
unwilling heart. Asher politely stretched out his hand for the grubby man to take and
after a moment of shameful hesitation, Walter accepted.
Weird, I murmured after Walters quiet exit.
What is? Asher cocked an eyebrow, his body slanting toward me.
You, being human, I stated numbly. I didnt waste time exploiting the waver of
confusion on his face, I just wanted to get out of there.
Wait! was the only warning he could give me.
A barricade of bodies lined the street. Worse than that, blinding flashes and roaring
questions boomed into the air the moment I stepped outside, sweeping over and
skyrocketing my thought process. I hiccupped back a step in surprise, knocking into a
warm wall that instantly corrected my balance. Wincing at the tug that followed, I
twisted away from the bursts of light, to the concerned face hovering over me. His lips
moved in a question, but I couldnt make out his voice from the uproar behind us.
Mr. Pickett! Who is your companion?
Mr. Pickett! Over here! Is it true that you
Mr. Pickett, do you have any comments on the
I gasped against the sea of voices, the blitz of the questions that threatened to render
me deaf. The relentless chant of Mr. Pickett! Mr. Pickett! Mr. Pickett! flooded my ears,
slashing through my conscious as an arm wrapped around my shoulders. I kept my
hands plastered over my ears to block out the sounds while my body was edged into
a speed walk down a pathway I couldnt see. Blotches of light tainted my gaze, even
when I squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as possible.
The voices grew louder, muffled by my hands but still perfectly audible, then drifted
further away. Asher pushed me into a confinement that blocked the flashes
instantaneously, so I dared to open my eyes only to squeeze them back shut. I was
243

in his car, back in the deathtrap I didnt seem to be able to escape. Something
rapped against the windowpane and the car momentarily rocked, slamming nausea
into my stomach and curiosity into my brain. I peeked my eyes open.
Who are you? a pair of painted lips mouthed from behind the glass, her voice barely
perceptible with the others still screeching behind her. The car rocked again when a
few security guards moved to divide the prying paparazzi from their designated prey.
Are you alright? Ashers voice echoed in the interior of the car. Before I could
respond, the car roared to life, jerking forward. I caught sight of the valet in the wake
of a flailing reporter, not the same Michael guy from before but a shady looking
character that grinned as we drove off.
Well, I was glad someone enjoyed the show.
Are you alright? he repeated.
Yes I spoke slowly, testing my voice. When I was sure it wouldnt die out on me, I
continued. What was that about?
Public curiosity.
Does that usually happen to you?
Yes, he paused, throwing me a quick glance over his arm. But not to such an
extreme.
Spots continued to line my vision, refusing to fade regardless of how many times I
blinked. I stretched a hand up to rub at my eyelids as I gave a stubborn shake of my
head. So what was the special occasion this time?
You, he admitted. I stiffened at his answer, and the tension in my body reminded me
that the seatbelt wasnt looped over my chest. Asher hadnt put his on either, he had
probably rushed to escape the unsolicited shower of attention.
My hands fumbled quietly with the band, pulling it down to fasten it into place beside
my hip. I realized faintly that his tawny coat was draped over my lap. When did that
happen? Why havent I seen any of them outside your house? I pushed the
conversation in a different direction.
Restraining orders, private property and sufficient security, he chuckled at an inside
joke I didnt understand, But Im not usually the center of attention. Perhaps if I were a
celebrity the situation would be much worse. For now, their catalyst is only curiosity
regarding your identity. The hype will die down soon enough.
244

I hoped so. One second of imagining that kind of media assault on Annas Diner and I
was instantly thankful for Alricks paranoia.
I bet that Randall-shoes bitch ratted you out, I sniped resentfully.
Unlikely, he paused, giving a quick glance over his shoulder as the car smoothly
switched lanes onto the freeway. In all probability, the restaurant staff was
responsible.
So any publicity was good publicity. Though that restaurant seemed to be doing well
on its own, did they really need to rat out one of theirI assumedbest customers just
to get some pictures of their establishment out there? That seemed so cheap. Ah, that
reminded me.
Why did you invite that man to dinner? I switched subjects quickly. Considering how
Asher was <i>not</i> in my head, and could not follow my thought process, it made
perfect sense why he looked bemused by my lagging question.
To impress you, of course.
I sucked in my breath through my teeth, unable to stop the tinge of shock that
touched my face. Really?
No, he grunted.
Mother fucking son of a bi Youre an asshole.
He seemed to be at peace with that; being an asshole, I mean. No glance came my
way this time, the car just kicked up into a higher speed and he swerved through the
lanes to bump in and out of traffic. I redirected my eyes to the darkness in front of us,
trying not to focus on how quickly the gravel whizzed by beneath the exposing
headlights. The beams didnt help with spots still tainting my vision so I redirected my
gaze.
The soft whirr of the window caught my attention, along with the cold air that seeped
into the car. I shivered against the oncoming wind as I threw my eyes to his
speedometer: 80 mph.
Slow down, I groaned.
Youre he trailed off, though for the life of me I didnt know why; we both knew
what he wanted to say. Youre safe, like he was the Pope and knew God didnt

245

want me dead today. Cocky fuck. I twisted a bit in my seat to see him tilting toward
the steering wheel.
What is it? I followed the incline of his body toward the speedometer. 90 mph.
A growl ruptured through his throat. The speed kicked up to 95 mph.
S-SLOW DOWN! I screamed. 96, 97, 98 mph: the little dial just kept rising.
Im not accelerating, he snarled, sending a spark of icy fear up my rectum. Muffin,
he called, drawing my attention before my brain completely clicked out. I need you
to listen to me very carefully. Steadying the wheel with one hand, Asher stretched his
other hand toward me, shoving his thumb against the latch in my seatbelt to free it.
We dont have time, so dont argue with me.
I inhaled deeply, my eyes wide and focused on his face.
I need you to jump out of the car.
NO FUCKING WAY, my brain screamed. Asher immediately leaned over my lap to
grab the door and throw it open; with a whoosh of resistance from the wind, the door
smacked back shut. We swerved and a car honked behind us.
Muffin, he drew my attention away from the door, back up to his stern gaze. Tuck
your head under your arms, angle your body to the side, and jump out. Do it now.
No no no no no. There was no way in this fucking hell I was going to do that. No way.
He must have seen the thick blank screen of fear on my face, because he cursed
under his breath and gave an uneasy glance to the road in front of him. His hands
scrambled to the side of wheel, attempting to turn the keys, but they jammed
dangerously against his touch. More honks filled up the silence our panic left behind,
with car after car ready to protest our climbing speed.
Hold on, he warned, taking an oncoming exit off the shoulder of the road.
The car moaned in objection of the turn that came, dangerously swerving to the left
as Asher tugged the wheel to the right. My heart managed to break the speed limit
hand in hand with the car, now going 110 mph.
The fact that he couldnt slow down on the slight turn had my body flailing around like
a rattlesnakes tail, no seatbelt to protect me. Trees, bushes and random signs whizzed
by outside my window, continuously reminding me of the increasing speed. One sign
advertised a family owned restaurant, another reminded fishermen to have their
246

license with them. My knuckles whitened from the force I applied to the dashboard in
a conscious attempt to magically wish the engine to slow down the car.
I had two options available to me: freak out and scream my head off, or focus on a
solutionI decided on a compromise, I freaked out while focusing on the speed dial;
115 mph now.
Vomiting was another very possible option.
After stabilizing the car on the new road, Asher reached out to a button on his left. His
chair lurched back, moving further and further away from the pedals and wheel until
he was steering with just his fingertips. Sure enough, his foot wasnt on any of the
pedals.
Switching hands on the steering wheel, Asher reached out with his right to wrap his grip
around my torso and pull me up, over the emergency break, straight into the area in
front of his lap. I didnt care about the awkward position, my eyes were locked in
horrified astonishment at the dial on the dashboard. 120 mph.
I was going to die.
I was, I really was.
His grip tightened around my waist as the car reeled to the other side of the road,
where the pavement broke off into the wildlife of trees and brushes. A few anxious
glances were given to the road in front, his hand still barely keeping the vehicle in
checkthen in one frighteningly quick second he tried to throw the door open,
assumingly so we could follow, but the door swung shut again. He couldnt get
enough leverage with my extra mass, and what was he thinking? At this speed we
would have been pancakes, no matter the landing area.
He obviously thought that getting crushed in the car was a worse fate, because he
tried to throw the door open once more.
Wait, my voice cracked, hollow and lifeless in the back of my throat. Car speeding,
imminent death, mangled corpse, I tried to push all those thoughts out of my head as I
searched for a replica of the sign I had seen before. What was it?
The next sign whizzed, warning me that my only chance was in two miles. Terror fueled
enough adrenaline into my body for me to twist my body and stab my grip into the
back of Ashers hand. Wait, I breathed.
Muffin theres no time for

247

Take this turn, I pointed frantically.

Muf
TAKE THIS TURN!
He didnt take the turn, but the car swerved violently to the right. I trembled against his
chest with both hands clutching the wheel, nothing guiding my knowledge of driving
or cars but memories and movies. Thankfully Asher caught onto my plan when we
passed another fishing sign, so he reached around me to steady the car and keep us
from plowing into a tree.
I was about to recreate my worst nightmare.
The lake quickly came into view, at the speed we were going. There was just one tiny
problem; the <i>pier was tiny</i> and there was no way a car would fit on it. This was
nothing like my films, the car wasnt about to grow wings and fly over the wood, it
didnt have secret throttles or a computer brain. Asher and I both knew what he was
going to do.
I flattened my body over his as he veered to the left, toppling over branches, grass,
and pebbles that lined the original road giving away to nature. The speed of which
the body of water came at me was unbearable.
Take a deep breath, Asher warned as he inhaled softly against my temple.
I closed my eyes.

Somewhere between plunging into the lake and having Ashers arm reflexively tighten
around me, the thin strings holding what little remained of my composure snapped. I
wasnt sure how to reattach them when I woke up, soaking wet, to peer at an equally
disgruntled face above mine. The occasional branch that drifted in and out of my
vision hinted that I was movingthat we were moving, but it took my groggy brain
several minutes to register his arms looped under my weight.
He slowed his walk when I coughed and stammered against his chest, working out the
disgusting taste in the back of my throat. Before I could ask, he bent down to set me
on my feet but kept one hand on my shoulder to stabilize me.
248

Youre alright. He wasnt asking, he was telling.

The hell I am. I didnt recognize my own voice, it was scratchy and faint, like Id
been screaming for hours. Maybe I had. What the fuck happened?
Can you walk on your own? he murmured.
Yes, fuck. Jesus, fucking.. UGH! I screamed. My frustration pulsed through my veins,
warming my blood with the inevitable follow-up of anger. What the hell happened to
the car?!
He sighed, raising one hand to run his fingers through his wet hair.
Nevrrmind, I slurred. I dont want toah. My hand shot up to my chest, to the
pang of pain that came with my inhaling. Oh yeah, I had hit the steering wheel pretty
hard, hadnt I? A faint voice in the back of my head reminded me that Asher had
fished me out, with proper CPR this time. I didnt remember it well, I was already trying
to block the whole thing out. I dont want to know Exhaustion tugged at my frozen
muscles, forewarning oncoming hypothermia. but I probably already do. Its the
same people that hit Porto, right? The ones that stabbed you and made it look like a
robbery. Now theyre trying to make it look like an accident.
Accident?
Did they cut the breaks? I ventured further. Jam the accelerator?
The grey eyes studied me carefully, staring so intently that I was able to recognize the
weariness I felt get reflected back at me. Super gangster or not, Asher was just as worn
out and tired as I was. Should I have cut him slack? No.
Why wont you answer me?!
The familiar, terrifying sound of a live engine approached from the right, zooming
straight at me. I scrambled out of the way, stumbling off the concrete and onto the
dirt nearby as a random car sped down the lane. Asher remained rooted to his spot,
his stupid suit dripping all over the place while his head followed my movement.
This was my fault, I shouldnt have left without the proper provisions, he said.
Fine, fuck you, Im leaving, I snarled. Determined to distance myself from the horribly
bad lucked omen, I stomped down the road in hopes of reaching civilization one day
soon. Hitchhiking was a proper alternative to walking in the cold, but I was
<i>never</i> going to get into another car again.
249

I glanced behind me several times, either to follow the trajectory of cars or just in plain
paranoia, and each time I saw Asher standing in the same spot Id left him. Eventually
my steps slowed, guilt tugged at me. What was he doing? Another car whizzed by, but
this one stopped and kicked back in reverse. I watched it with a sick sense of curiosity
as it approached my little slash of concrete.
Hey there, a womans voice squealed from behind a lowering window.
Hi, I snorted.
Need a ri uh, are you okay? she fumbled, leaning out the side of the vehicle to
peer at me. My stomach flipped at the possibility of her offering me a ride, a ride in her
car, and I assumed her real question came up because of the paling on my face. But
then she added, Youre bleeding.
I followed her gaze down to my sweater, where red substance dotted the folds and
wrinkles of fabric. In a panicked frenzy I jerked the cloth up and over my head to toss it
away from me before the rising sense of hyperventilation could bottom me out. We
were both shocked to find that my bare arms were void of any sort of wounds that
could produce blood.
The driver must have decided that I wasnt such a good candidate for a pick-up
anymore, because they pounded down on the gas and sped away.
Right, like I was the serial killer.
Tracing their departing lights, my eyes fell back on the immobile figure in the distance.
He still hadnt moved, which was beyond freakybut if the blood wasnt mine, not
many options remained. Fuck, I cursed myself as I stomped back the way I came.
What are you doing? I growled once in his earshot.
Thinking, he supplemented.
Are you hurt? My throat tightened.
Yes, he continued his one-word answers.
I didnt ask about the pain, I had a pretty good idea, so I fetched the bottle of
morphine pills still in my pocket and held it out to him.
Morphine thins the blood, Asher informed me.

250

Oh, I whispered as I popped the top of the orange container open. The air-proof lid
had kept the water out, so the pills werent ruined when I pulled two out and shoved
them into my mouth. Hey, at least one of us didnt have to be in pain. Are you just
going to stand here all danight? Shouldnt you call someone to come get you?
Moving faster than I anticipated, Asher snatched the pills from my hand and discretely
pocketed them. My phone and wallet are in the car, he frowned, not at me, but
with me. Too bad we were frowning for completely different reasons.
So?
No matter, itd be best to lay low. If they believe Im dead, Id rather not prove
otherwise just yet. Do you have somewhere safe to go?
Yes, I reverberated. Do you? He arched both eyebrows, taken aback by my surge
of aggression. The slight hesitation that came was enough for me to take control of the
situation. I didnt think so. And you probably need a phone to call Alrick or one of
your lackeys to come get you, right?
Correct.
I sighed as I rubbed at the back of my neck, wondering faintly if peer pressure worked
on stress. If I could convince one muscle not to ache so much, perhaps the next
would
Muffin, he whispered, smoothly pronouncing the name Alrick refused me. I
require your assistance.
Oh really Mr. President? My help?
Require was such a cop-out way to ask. Why couldnt he be normal for once and
say I need your help? Those words were much easier to say.
Sure, okay, Ill help you, I paused purposely, If you answer my questions. Payback
was a bitch.
Ashers visible weariness grew tenfold. He carefully stripped his jacket from his back,
exposing the dark blotches on the white of his dress shirt. I counted two on his left arm,
one on his left shoulder and a thin one on his abdomen before he removed that
article of clothing as well. One, he cruelly limited my curiosity.
Awesome. Whos trying to kill you?
A group of powerful people that dont appreciate my meddling in their affairs.
251

Wha who are they? What affairs? How are you meddling? How powerful? What
kind of shit are you involved in?
If you wanted a name, it would have been appropriate to ask for one, he chided
past the sharp sound of cloth shredding beneath his grip. Strips of the ruined shirt were
then used as bandages for wounds I could barely seenot that I was trying to pick up
any detail. His naked chest also proved to be a distraction. Now I suggest we get
going, he grunted in the blare of another passing car, one hand tightening the knot
of a wrap on his arm.
I asked who, that usually implies actual identification Where are you going? I
grumbled as he put his jacket back on and waltzed past me.
We didnt leave the Interstate in a kindly fashion. It is safe to presume the authorities
have been notified and will be searching the premises. Duh.
Okay, but youre going the wrong way. That stopped him in his tracks. Well have to
cross the road and go past that Elm tree. See the lights? I pointed over the thickness
of the cement. Thats the grocery store. If we go around it, we my voice died in
my throat. I could feel his eyes burning a hole into my scalp. What?
Tell me something, he turned back to face me, both hands in his pockets. Why do
you know so much?
This interaction thing was getting weirder by the minute.
Ive lived here long enough to
No, no, Asher rudely interrupted, That wasnt what I meant.
I waited for further explanation but it didnt come. Just because Im homeless doesnt
mean Im stupid. So what? I goaded.
So you continue to surprise me, he laughed throatily.
That soft sound soothed my jumping nerves, giving me just a momentary stroke of
calm. For someone that had been my tormentor for over a week now, he had a
surprisingly pleasant laugh. I wondered why he didnt loosen up more often to let
others hear it.
We should get going, I murmured, embarrassed. He only laughed again, prickling
apprehension back into my system as I turned to lead the way.

252

We hiked about three miles back to society; Asher had done most of the traveling
while I was unconscious. Once in the streets, paranoia smacked me in the face. I kept
thinking random bystanders turned to stare at him. Given, he actually looked like he
crawled out from the bottom of a lake, but I had a feeling he got most of the glances
because he was walking around with no shirt on. Just a jacket. It was kind of hot.
The temperature, I mean.
His suit was dark enough for the stains of blood to go unnoticed in the bad quality of
the streetlights, but his face couldnt dodge public scrutiny. I was sure someone would
recognize him soon, which would suck considering how we were supposed to stay
low. So I redirected our course to the back streets and open alleyways to minimize
chances of stumbling into the limelight. The extra safety measures lengthened the trip,
but we eventually made it to our destination; and in one piece, which was saying a
lot.
An hour of trekking and Asher hadnt spilled a word, though it never got to the point
where I was worried. I didnt stop to agonize about what might be on his mind, I had to
keep focusing on something else or Id completely fall apart. The car and the lake...
Were here, I interrupted my own thoughts. I doubted Asher cared, but I needed to
distract myself, so I continued my babble. Theyre probably asleep, so be quiet. Just
make your phone call and leave, okay?
Waking Anna up wasnt an option, but frightening Zack with the phantom idea of
thieves would be a dangerous one. It was a risky move to even bring Asher to their
home, I knew that, and if I had been in better shape I might have led him elsewhere
but running back to my original sanctuary was primal instinct. In my head, <i>safe</i>
linked directly to this couple. I was safe here.
I knew where they kept their spare key, so I led Asher to the back of the diner and
snatched the silver object from the bottom of a fake rock. I still hadnt made up my
mind when we cautiously climbed the stairs to the second floor. It would prove
disastrous if they woke up to find two uninvited guests in their home, and I felt
uncomfortable entering without permission but I figured that Asher could just make
his phone call and leave. As for me? Id just take my exit before they found out I was
ever there.
I decided to not wake them up, just to be quiet as possible. Bad luck taunted me
when I poked the key into the lock to unwind it only to find that it didnt turn. I
thought that Id done it wrong, so I pulled it back, pushed in and tried again. Nothing.
Maybe the other way?

253

The handle suddenly rattled, twisting as the door unlocked on its own accord. On the
other side, Anna stood in her daisy yellow nightgown, her long hair bound in a tight
braid over one shoulder. She took one look at me and burst into tears.
Anna? I gasped, hastily accepting the hug she threw at me.
Oh I was so worried! she whined, squeezing me so tightly that she managed to
compress some water out of my damp clothing. She must have seen Asher standing
behind me, because she quickly readjusted herself and gave a pat to her now-wet
gown. Asher, dear, I didnt see you there! Oh look at the two of you, wet and cold!
What on earth happened to you? Come in, come in, she fussed.
Since when did she call Asher by his first name?
Anna ushered us in one at a time, patting our backs with hysterical little sobs as she let
the door slide shut on its own. I edged my way into the living room, where I found the
lights and television on.
The moment the extensive amount of light bared our battle wounds, she started to fret
and nag like a frazzled mother hen. Her dainty hands tugged at the shirt clinging to my
abdomen, wearily studying the stains and tears Id been evading. Her voice hit an
octave that would have only been comprehensible to dogs: the silly old woman
always got like this when she freaked out, she would babble on and on without ever
letting anyone get a word in. Zack was usually the only one that could stop her, but
sometimes she managed to even drown him out. Still, he was a good chance for
sanity.
Wheres Zack? I pouted.
Hes asleep, sweetie. We had a very busy day, and, oh, you know how he is. Sleeps
like a rock, that one, she smiled nervously towards Asher. Can I get you anything?
Some coffee? Tea? Why on earth are you two wet? It isnt raining, is it? Oh you must
be freezing. Zacks clothing should fit you dear, why dont you go to the bathroom
and Ill bring you some?
What was happening?
Okay, one question at a time. Anna, I reached out to stop her before she
disappeared down the hall. I assumed she was worried because she hadnt seen me
in a while, so I tried the next thing on my mind. Why are you awake?
I couldnt sleep, sweet heart, she cooed, drawing me into another vice-like hug.
Asher didnt call me tonight. He calls every night to tell me youre okay, she
murmured against my shoulder, and I felt her smile.
254

He did?
Miss Anna? he piped up on cue. May I use your phone?
Of course, dear! She withdrew her hug to answer him, then shot her gaze back to
me. And what have you been up to? No calls, no letters, nothing? The tears started
again, tugging at my heartstrings. I was suddenly appreciative of her rambling; I didnt
know what to say to her. Why if it wasnt for Asher her words came to an
immediate halt, urging me to follow her gaze over my shoulder.
Asher, dear Annas tone shifted into one I recognized, flaring all my internal alarms
on.
Ah, yes maam? he examined her over the receiver he held.
You werent thinking of leaving tonight, were you? She said it like it was the most
outrageous thing shed heard all day. There was no chance for Asher to defend
himself; the vibrant little woman rushed right past me to steal the phone. No, no.
Youre going to stay here, rest up. You both look absolutely exhausted. And its the
middle of the night, I wont have you waking up some poor soul to come get you
when there is a perfectly suitable bed for you here.
And bam, there it was. Once Anna set her mind on something, No was taken off the
voting ballot. Fate or whatever higher power was out therewith a horribly cruel sense
of humorattached a string that kept Asher tethered to me. Or vice versa.
I couldnt Asher tried.
Ill hear none of it, she griped. Id be horribly insulted if you even thought of leaving,
so Ill pretend that you never did. Now you go on, dear, change in the bathroom. Ill
whip up something for you to eat. Go on. Right down there, door on the right, she
bullied him toward me, past me. He looked comically confused by her pushiness but
he didnt voice his thoughts, still managing to keep to his unreasonably polite ways.
Anna, itd probably be better if he left I mumbled.
Thats quite enough out of you, Muffin. You be nice to that man, hes been nothing
but generous to you.
I wouldnt go that far, my jaws smashed against each other.
None sense. Youre both going to spend the night here, and, oh look at you. My
sweet boy, what happened? she choked on a sob, her gentle hands running down
255

the length of my face. Why are you wet? Her worry didnt help the fact that I was
trying desperately to repress intense emotional shock, one that should have had me
shattered in pieces after the water ride. I had to push her away, to distance myself
emotionally so that her reaction didnt spear me alive; being a juvenile brat was my
defense mechanism.
Before I could alienate her with a crude comment, Asher came to my rescue. Again.
Miss Anna? He interrupted. Waiting for her eyes to zoom to him, he continued in a
ridiculously courteous voice. Could I get a change of clothes?
O-oh! Yes, yes, of course. Ill go get some of Zacks old things for you, she gasped as
she wiped at her watery eyes with the back of one hand. I felt absurdly numb, staring
after her like a complete idiot while she disappeared into the master bedroom. I was
standing on a very, very tiny ledge, and Anna kept chipping away at what little
ground remained. I was going to fall.
Prior to her return, I shoved myself into the door closest to me, the only other bedroom
available in the small home, just to escape her insistent fussing. And frankly, it sucked
to be back in the room I escaped two years ago, the one I used to share with Jason. I
kept the lights off to keep nostalgia to a minimum, and felt around in the dresser
closest to me for available clothing.
At least I had access to boxers.
I grabbed the closest thing resembling pants and a shirt, all the while mentally reciting
the preamble to keep my thoughts busy and dull. We the People of the United States,
in Order to form a more perfect Union
A costume change later I remerged to find Asher on the couch, wearing a t-shirt that
was too big for him and sweats that barely held onto his hips. He didnt look as
awkward as I first imagined; casual clothes actually fit him. I didnt see his face until I
walked around the couch, where I found his eyes shut and his expression calm; it
wasnt stoic, it was relaxed.
Was he sleeping?
I took a seat at the edge of the coffee table beside the couch, practically hovering
over his head. His nostrils gently flared with his breathing, those warm lips hanging just
slightly ajar. A few light brown strands sprinkled into his face and down his right temple.
So strange that this was the first time I had seem him asleep, when he had assumedly
witnessed my unconscious face several times. Even stranger that he looked almost
sweet like this, so vulnerable and helpless. He wasnt the great untouchable Asher

256

Pickett now, not with tranquility on his face and the unfitting clothes on his body. He
was human, just another person, tangible, warm, solid, here. He was here.
I dont know what compelled me to do it, maybe I felt closer to him after our watery
ordeal, maybe it was seeing this defenseless side of him, but I did something recklessly
thoughtless.
I tipped my weight forward and kissed him.
It was just a peck on the lips, a small moment of contact, and I regretted it the
moment I pulled back to see the intelligent eyes staring at me. Oh, uhm, I was just I
swallowed my voice when the path of his pupils shifted over my shoulder, compelling
me to follow it: Anna was approaching us with a plate of food in her hand and two
bottles of water under her armsone of them was dyed purple.
Thanks, I whispered, snatching the purple one as I relocated myself to the chair
furthest away from the couch.
Thank you, he smiled courteously, sitting up to take the second bottle.
Now, Annas voice took on a grave tone, Why dont you two tell me what youve
been up to? Why on Gods green earth were the two of you wet?
Uh, the thing is What was I supposed to say?
Muffin has had a very long day, Miss Anna. Perhaps tomorrow morning will be a more
appropriate time for discussion? Asher suggested.
She didnt seem to like the idea, I knew she was just itching to find out why we looked
like train wrecks. But I saw my cue and took it; with one hand stretched over my head,
I reached up to vaguely cover my mouth as I pushed forward a yawn. Yeah Im..
really tired, I smacked my lips together in a lazy manner. Not needing further prompts,
I sank down into the chair and let my heavy eyelids sink down.
Thats alright. Asher, why dont you tell me? her voice stubbornly persisted.
Dont you have to open the diner in a few hours? I popped up angrily, practically
barking at her.
This is much more important than
Hes right, Miss Anna. You should go get some sleep. Muffin will be here for
interrogation tomorrow. I noticed how he didnt say we, just that I would be there.
Jerk, was he ditching me? How was I supposed to explain everything by myself?
257

I suppose she sighed. Ill set up the bed for you, then, and bring some blankets
out for
Ill do it, I volunteered quickly enough. Go to bed. You have a business to run, you
need your sleep. Well be fine, okay? Just go get your beauty sleep, I added with a
sheepish grin.
She finally agreed when I proved I knew where the extra sheets and blankets were by
fetching them in front of her. With a yawn of her own, and two fleeting hugs, she
retreated back to her bedroom. I knew she was ridiculously tired because she didnt
come back outAnna could be more stubborn than me sometimes.
Ill take the couch, he said as I brought a comforter and pillows out to the living
room.
No, I sniped ruthlessly, Take the bed, or Anna will skin me alive. If she isnt going to
already. Plus, the couch is more comfortable. I want it. Not really, the couch was like
any couch, comfy when you sat on it but doomed to give you back pains if you slept
on it. It wasnt a pull out couch, but if I took off the cushions I would fit with no trouble.
Plus, I didnt want to sleep in Jasons room.
A nod came in agreement. On his way past me, Asher bent down to grab a Ginger
Muffin from the plate of food Anna had brought us, which he efficiently raised to his
lips. He let me see a deliberate moment of hesitation before he bit down into the soft
dessert.
Sweet dreams, he whispered.

258

Sweet didnt quite fit my expectation of the night.

I knew my dreams would be one unstoppable wave of chaos after another, so after
setting up the couch for proper sleeping functions, I slouched in one corner to watch
TV. Anna had left the channel on AMC, showing an old black and white movie with
the clich heroine falling effortlessly for her male co-star. He promised her the moon
and theatrically lassoed it for her as I tried to focus solely on the shape of the fence in
the background, instead of the practiced look of adoration on their faces.
My eyes continuously lost their fight against the exhaustion in my muscles, the sense of
dread stabbing thin needles against my eyeballs. Naturally, my body yearned for
sleep, a simple chance to rest and shut downbut I was too paranoid of what would
come to immediately give into my instinct need for rest. I couldnt help being
hyperaware of the details of my situation; the fact that I was back in Annas house, on
her couch, and that the man assumed to be my nemesis slept in the room I previously
occupied for years unnerved me.
Life sucked.
So much had happened that day, the best way my brain could deal with it was to
either completely shut down or use most my energy to keep fine points and facts
blocked. I was steadily running out of energy.
The decision to finally spread out on the couch was consciously made. By the time the
main character ran into bankruptcy issues I was already half way gone. I pulled the
comforter over my body, against my shoulder and my chin as I cuddled my head
against a pillow.
You sit around here and you spin your little web and you think the whole world
revolves around you and your money, well it doesnt Mr. Potter! In the whole vast.
The movie droned on; I fell asleep before he finished his sentence.

259

As expected, my dreams exploded into graphic anarchy the moment I hit REM sleep.
The crash into the lake had definitely affected me much more than I let onI was so
used to just running away from my fears. In the runaway car, my option to run hadnt
been available. And here, in my dreams, I couldnt do anything except take up a seat
at the front row of my nightmares premier. It wasnt just a watery demise anymore,
Michaels dark eyes haunted me, screams knocked against my temples, barking
stroked my breaking heart and laughter that didnt belong to me broke clean through
my strength of mind. The sea took me as its sacrifice. No hands reached out to save
me.
But a hand rested gently against my neck when my eyes flashed open, the panicked
racing of my heart in my claustrophobic chest echoing in my ears. The hand glided
down my throat, poking momentarily into the collar of my shirt before picking up to
relocate against the tip of my jaw line. My back arched to push my weight up, to help
me sit with the surge of terror that rippled through me. Run, run, my internal voice
screamed. But an overwhelming sense of relief bathed my muscles when I recognized
Ashers face in the continuous light of the television, and I flopped back down.
Just a dream, his quiet voice clarified.
The car, the lake, I watched the horrendous imagery rush back at me full speed as I
stared wide-eyed toward his heavily shadowed face. He leaned down closer to me,
his touch trailing a path from my cheek to the arc of my throat. The actions felt so far
away, like he was the dream and my ongoing drowning was the true reality, so I tried
to claw my way back out of the self-misery pool I had single handedly created for
myself; I reached up toward him.
He didnt resist my touch when I hooked my fingers onto the loose fabric of his shirt, not
even when I tugged to make sure what I felt was real. The quake in my fingertips didnt
become apparent to me until I saw its effects on the fabric clasped in my grip. Even
the ripples didnt seem real to me, they could have been water, not the surface of a
perfectly normal shirt, I could have been wet and drowning; I wouldnt have known
the difference. I tugged on the shirt again.
Asher took my second tug as an invitation. Sidestepping the necessity of permission, he
leaned down as he gingerly grazed his lips against mine. The touch should have felt
foreign, but with my current state of mind it felt comforting. My heart fluttered
dangerously as I parted my lips and arched my chin up, letting the grogginess of sleep
carry me through the waves of familiarity he initiated. He was so close, so close that he
had to be real.
Just a dream, he repeated into my lips.

260

Okay, then it was just a dream. It didnt make sense for him to be there otherwise, or
for me to feel so secure in his presence after everything hed done. It didnt make
sense why when he applied pressure against my jaw with his thumb, I willingly opened
my mouth to let his tongue invade my mouth. It had to be a dream.
It had to be.
Shhh, a murmur vibrated my way, surely an attempt to soothe my oncoming
madness, but it only urged that familiar stinging back into my eyes.
Both of my hands yanked at his shirt again, guiding him closer to me as I suckled
helplessly at his lips. Warm, soft, and responsive, they swallowed the residue of my
panic while his hand moved back to my throat, protectively wrapping around the
flesh. Following his lead, I tried to match my urgent panting with his controlled
breathing, in hopes of lowering my heartbeat into a much more rhythmic, human
level. It worked.
As I calmed from the climax of my nightmares, Ashers intensity doubled. He took what
could have been nothing but innocent kissing to a completely different level by
jamming his hands under the comforter bunched against my torso, dipping his touch
beneath the tail of my shirt. The cold fingers against my skin instigated a gasp out of
me, one he thoroughly took advantage of with an anguished flick of his tongue.
Sto I choked out, ready to put a stop to the slippery slope Id started in my
pathetic quest for comfort. His mouth effortlessly silenced me, not only able to stop my
words but also wean the voice from my throat. My demanding sentence melted into a
flimsy, pathetic groan.
One hand spread its palm against the arc of my back, picking my weight up from the
couch in a thrillingly familiar manner as he flattened my bruised stomach against his
torso. My hands unhooked from his shirt to shoot up his shoulders, over the bone, to the
back of his neck; at first, simply to avoid getting crushed between our bodies, but I
ended up holding onto him for support. The effortless way he morphed my body
against his didnt alarm me as much as I thought it would, and his hands stole enough
of my body warmth to ease the discomforting difference in temperature. His other
hand rushed up the steps of my spine, from my shoulder blades to the back of my
neck, adding further leverage to my position.
Instead of coming down to my level, he was pulling me up to him.
I wanted to laugh at the irony, but my mouth was much too busy trying to keep up
with the kiss. Every time my lips were in danger of drying I gave a lick to ease the skin,
and feeling the momentary barrier of the soft organ encouraged his ridiculous trigger.
His fingers occasionally stabbed into my skin, wordlessly informing me that he
261

approved of what I was doing; the thing was, I didnt know what I was doing. If he bit
on my lower lip, I reflexively nibbled at his top, and when he squeezed at the back of
my neck, I pushed my face closer to his. Everything I did was a reaction, he was in
complete control of the situation.
Which became utterly obvious when he broke the kiss to recoil from me. Considering
our rather close positioning, I found no trouble feeling the prominent bulge in the
crotch of his borrowed sweatpants, so there wasnt a doubt in my mind that he was
enjoying himself. Why did he stop?
Get some sleep, he whispered, answering my unasked question.
No, I never wanted to sleep again. Aside from that little fun fact, I didnt want him to
go, not after the instant relief he brought with his presence. Maybe if he stayed a few
more seconds, maybe if I felt him near me, then maybe I would calm down enough to
be able to repel the terror that came with closing my eyes. He presented a link to the
present that helped me avoid a past I didnt want to remember, so I tightened my grip
on his shoulders when he set me back on the couch.
Dont go, my brain screamed what my lips were too stubborn to say. I used his body as
leverage to hoist myself up into a sitting position, closer to him. In a moment of shock,
Asher jerked away from me, but I followed his movement with my body and hands. My
madness drove me close enough to feel the warmth of his lips before a persistent
hand moved up to grab onto my chin. With my lips protruding like a hungry fish, Asher
pushed me back to the other side of the couch.
Sleep, he instructed.
What was I supposed to say? I cant! Im scared the boogey man will get me!?
Yeah, that wasnt going to work. Asher was as aware of my unpredictability as I was;
he cautiously withdrew his grip, releasing my chin with his hand still posed to reclaim
my face if I tried to return. A cheesy commercial about male enhancement flickered
onto the television as we stared at each other; one body ready to leap off the edge
and the other prepared to put a stop to it.
It wasnt done purposely, not at first, but I stretched out my tongue to lick at my lips as
the silence bubbled anxiety in my stomach. My nervous reaction easily spurred one in
himI saw his eyes jump down to my mouth and I knew I had him.
Whatever awkward fascination he had with my lips, I was about to exploit. I wanted his
comfort, whether it was selfish or unintentional on his part didnt matter. With Asher
carefully watching me, I jutted my lower lip out the slightest bit, poked the tip of my
tongue out against the flesh and followed up with a brief bite down. The moist tissue
slipped from beneath the hold of my teeth, smoothly falling back into place.
262

I took Goliath down with a lick.

He didnt pounce like I expected, he grabbed at my throat and pulled me towards
him instead. I crashed into his chest as his other hand wound over the back of my
head, snaking into the mess of inky strands. To balance myself out, I reached both
arms out past his torso, resting them on the back of the couch. That held out for less
than a second; the moment I had my equilibrium, he shoved me back down to the
couch. One hand momentarily abandoned my throat to grab my bent legs from
under me and straighten them out.
He was so blatantly saying Were going to do this my way.
I didnt care. I even egged him on by grabbing onto the outline of his face as I
hungrily devoured his lips. His body very casually brought back the heat I needed,
folding down on top of mine as we picked up right where we left off. I usually hated
being touched, but after constant practice I found myself bizarrely accustomed to
his contact. I didnt mind it.
Ashers fingers trickled through my hair, teasing the roots with his fingertips in a velvety
stroke down from my temple to my ear. The gentle movement crudely contradicted
the nasty way his teeth bit down into the thin layer of skin on my lip, like he wanted to
bite the entire thing off. I tried to show him my displeasure with the situation by digging
my nails into the flesh of his cheeks, in what should have been a warning, but that was
definitely not the case. Asher interpreted my ward off attempt as yet another
invitationhe picked up my hips and pulled them into his lap as he replaced himself
on to his knees.
You over estimate my self-control, Muffin, he murmured, keeping his tone hushed in
the darkness of the living room.
What did that mean?
I didnt see what self-control had to do with a little make-out session. It didnt mean
anything, I just wanted his touch and he had an unhealthy appetite for my mouth, so
whatever, right?
I ignored his warning, reverting back my focus solely on the attention his mouth
showered on me. My dreams were already dust in the wind, disappearing through the
window Asher threw open when he climbed in. If he touched me in one spot, my
attention fixed immediately in that area, if he made a sound, I listened; my frequently
wandering mind never went far this time. I thought nothing of it when his hand dipped
into the loose hold of my pants, past my boxers, straight to my penis.

263

As warm as his hand had become, it held nothing against the burning rod that pulsed
against his palm. My pathetic libido needed only a few strokes from his fisted touch to
bring my member to complete attention. I was laughably hard when two fingers
hooked onto the elastic band, pulling them down my legs until they wedged against
my knees. Lost in the moment, and the caress of his lips, I barely noticed him release
my penis to grab the cloth of my pants with both hands. He jerked them completely
off my body.
The cold air biting into my skin compelled me to turn my head away from him, toward
the television, before I tipped my chin down to glance at my lower body. His hands
were already at the waistband of my boxers, hiking them down as he redirected his
mouth onto the alcove of my throat. Wha? I panted.
I dont like you in boxers, he grunted. I didnt know if he meant now or in general,
though both could have fit the situation.
I gave a grunt of my own as I pushed my weight up onto one elbow and twisted my
body, reaching for my clothes. A jerk that slid me halfway down the couch put a quick
stop to that, quickly flattening me onto my back. I could feel the soft material of Zacks
sweat pants beneath my buttocks, chaffing my skin every time Asher shifted in place.
Each article of clothing he removed brought me back, closer to reason, with little
alarms going off every which way, warning me of what might come as a
consequence of my actions.
Are you going to? I asked hesitantly, giving my lips a nervous lick as I threw a quick
glance between our bodies. Was it time for lesson three? It wasnt the end of the
week, and I wasnt begging, but it looked like Asher was willing to overlook those
details. More importantly, was I ready?
Do you want me to? he asked in a hushed tone.
I didnt know. My limited research left me handicapped when it came to the details of
the act itself, but I was so ridiculously curious. What did it feel like?
With beautiful distraction tactics, Asher replaced his warm touch over the head of my
neglected cock. His palm brushed the mushroom tip, gathering the moisture dribbling
from the slit to reduce friction on the next stroke down. I bucked carelessly against his
hand when the fist bottomed out against the base and tightened on the organ,
reminding me briefly of the blissful feeling that came with release. I didnt know if I
wanted to risk getting built up only to be left aching again, though.
At that point, the risk might have been worth it.

264

But Asher did the most peculiar thing after a few more strokes of my member; he
shifted one hand briefly to tug at his own pants, an action that should have tipped me
off immediately, but I didnt realize what he was planning until a wet finger prodded
at my sphincter. Except that all his ten fingers were already back on my body.
Sshh, he cooed the moment I gasped in disapproval. My body tensed up, every
muscle growing painfully rigid as he pushed the tip of something abnormally hot and
large against my entrance. His lips found mine just as I began to stutter out another
objection, this one not so PG-13 Rated, but he selfishly cut me off. Any pleasure I found
in this situation was steadily dying.
S-stop, I panted, stabbing one hand into his face to detour the kiss while the other
futilely smashed against his chest. Stop. Oh god, that hurts, stop it. Stop, it fucking
hurts, I whined.
A growl echoed into my ear as the heat abandoned its invasion, followed closely by its
owners entire body. The couch creaked when he slid off the cushions, quickly walking
around the length and disappearing out of sight. Beyond the voice of a woman selling
beauty products during an infomercial, muffled clicks and bangs came from the
kitchen. I remained panting, on my back, wearing only my shirt while the television
slowly penetrated my thickened thoughts; This particular ingredient tightens your I
stared dumbly towards the ceiling, wondering if Asher had tried what I thought he did.
I knew it couldnt fit in there.
And what if it had? What would that feel like? No, no, it had hurt way too much for me
to even consider trying it over again. The image of a hot, dry poker stabbing into my
arm temporarily came to mind. Well we werent doing that again. I could live with the
other touchy-things, they werent so bad when I got used to them. And the kissing?
Well, that part was fun, actually. There was something unsettlingly exhilarating about
having his mouth pressed so intimately against mine.
Asher had distracted me enough to get me out of the slump caused by my dreams; it
felt almost effortless to close my eyes and let my mind wander. My body was still tired,
it wouldnt take much to slip back to unconsciousness, I just had to get redressed and
tuck myself in. My plans were perfect, or they would have been, if I hadnt forgotten
about the aggravated lion Id teased earlier with fresh meat.
His body cut off the spray of light from the television, casting a thick shadow over me. I
hesitantly tore my eyes away from the bare ceiling to his silhouette, unable to make
out his expression with the dominant light source behind him. But I did notice a new
object in his hand faintly resembling a bottle of some sort. He set it down on the coffee
table to free his hands, both of which he then used to grab onto my hips and jerk

265

me clear off the couch. I barely had time to squeal in surprise before I slammed into
the carpet below.
My brain took several long, lagging seconds to allocate to the new position; I was on
my back, on the floor, and he was already kneeling into place where his hands pried
my thighs open. Even with my limited knowledge, I knew where this was going. An
immediate No! leapt from my lips as I grabbed onto the leg of the table and tried to
pull myself up, but a heavy hand flattened onto my chest to shove me back down.
There was no way in hell I was going to
The light in the hallway flickered on, spiking enough tension into the air to freeze both
of our bodies. We glanced up towards the couch, to the soft shuffling of weight that
edged closer and closer to us. I barely made out the tuff of grey hair from my position,
watching it bob past the immediate sitting area and back towards the kitchen.
Another light flickered on, and when I heard the refrigerator door open, I knew it was
Zack.
Oh fuh I gasped, my eyes spiking back to Asher when I felt the same invading
force from before, except that this time it was freakishly slimy. The hand on my chest
immediately moved to close over my mouth, muffling the sound that tore through my
throat as he pushed the unidentifiable mass in. The friction was much more lacking this
time, he used an excess of lubrication, but the pressure triggered involuntary panic by
my body at the alien penetration. He was going to tear me apart.
Sshh, shh, he advised as he bent down to lick at my ear, directly sending the
vibrations of his voice into my flesh. I wont hurt you, the cooing voice murmured,
and I wanted to believe it. He had stopped moving, leaving the tip inside while he
covered me with the warmth of his body. Relax, the hushed advice continued. But I
couldnt! It felt so so weird. I was sure my skin would rip if he moved even the tiniest
amount, or if I tried to squirm away, so I tried to stay as still as possible. I increasingly
found that if I didnt clench, the pain of his insertion sizzled to a dull burning sensation. I
released a whimper against his palm when he turned his head to kiss at the side of my
neck, just below my ear lobe.
Jaysn?
Oh god. It was Zack, it was Zack. Panic burst through me at an all-new record, burning
through my chest as my eyes grew wide with horror. He was going to see, he was
awake, he was going to fucking find me on the floor, getting entered by Asher. I
couldnt even move; I was pathetically pinned by the larger form. Above me, my
tormentor only gave a sly grin as he quietly retracted his fingers from over my lips.
Answer him, he whispered, giving a light kiss to the corner of my mouth.

266

N-no, I panted, first to Asher, then to the voice from beyond the barrier of the couch.
Its me, Muffin, I raised my volume a bit higher.
Oh, came a tired yawn. Whatre yew doin? he slurred, clearly handicapped by
the grogginess of sleep.
A faintly visible grin creased the edges of Ashers lips as he added another inch into
me, prompting a harsh whimper from my lips. I tried to use the sound to my
advantage, to kick-start my answer so Zack wouldnt get curious enough to approach
us. J ah.. just watching TV I panted.
Mmm okay, he accepted tiredly. Get some rest, you have school tomorrows, he
added, proving he wasnt entirely conscious. The light in the kitchen disappeared and
his weight hobbled closer, bringing a tremble to my fingertips as opposing hands ran
down the contour of my torso. Zack was right there. Didnt Asher care? Wasnt he
scared?
The light in the hallway flickered off, allowing me to breathe a sigh of reliefonly to
have Asher edge his hips forward, taking advantage of my brief moment of relaxation
by inserting more of his length. I tensed up again, stabbing my hands into arms as he
continued to suckle at the side of my neck. It might have been the traces of morphine
still in my bloodstream, or the overload of lubrication, but the longer he remained
immobile inside, the less the pain became.
What the fuck do you think youre d
Oh I almost frgot can you turn the volume downa bit? Zacks sleepy voice
peeked from the hall. I dont know what yer watchin he mumbled, drifting further
away.
Asher and I glanced up at the table, with the remote hanging halfway off the edge.
We both knew the sounds that might have roused Zack werent from the television,
but I was the only one that continued to worry about what that meant. I didnt dare
breathe until I thought I heard the click of the bedroom door closing.
Get off, I hissed harshly, giving an awkward punch to the side of his arm. Get out
and get off. That fucking hurts.
I caught his attention when I mentioned pain, but he didnt look happy. After a
moment of hesitation, he said, Cant.
Why the hell not? It was so hard to keep my voice in a whisper, I wanted horribly to
yell at him.

267

Youre squeezing too hard, he said. His left hand drifted down to my bare hips,
grabbing onto the flesh with four fingers while the thumb tentatively pet at the bone. I
shifted my legs uncomfortably on either side of him, afraid to move my body but
unable to resist the building urge to pull away. You have to relax, his voice came out
in a frustrated growl, making me believe for half a second that I was hurting him. I
should have taken pleasure in causing him pain, it was only fairbut I kept thinking
something was wrong. Bracing myself by clutching at his shirt, I took in a few deeps
breaths and tried to relax around his girth.
Begrudgingly, he pulled out of me, his knees shifting to balance him as his arms
straightened out. The change in position proved to be disturbingly enjoyable; his
angled prick brushed against something that sent an uncontrollable shiver through my
core. My hands tightened on the fabric of the shirt and I moaned.
Catching my own mistake, I guiltily slapped one hand over my mouth. Asher
immediately narrowed his eyes into a disapproving glare, like I had been lying about
the pain before, and sneered. Youll be the end of me, he rumbled darkly.
No! I didnt mean that! I gasped when his hands fell back down to my hips.
Quiet, Asher barked. Unless you want to wake everyone up.
His warning was well placed, Zack and Anna were heavy sleepers but they would
surely come running out if I started screaming. I didnt want them to see me, not like
this. Keeping that in mind, I covered my mouth with both hands as the greased
member slid back inside of me. The penetration proved much easier this time, but I still
tensed up when he added unnecessary inches.
Asher didnt return to his hovering position over me, he remained kneeling upward
while he snatched one of the abandoned pillows beside the couch. Maintaining the
height of my lower body, he wedged the material just beneath my tailbone,
managing to make it support my spine as well. I grimaced when he pulled halfway
out, readjusted his body weight, and pushed back in. Then, I felt it again. About two
inches in, he brushed against something that sent a tingling sensation from the base of
my cock to the rest of my body.
I dug my fingers into the skin around my mouth as my legs snapped up involuntarily,
both knees slamming against the steadily retreating hips. What was that feeling? At
first it felt like I had to pee, but my brain quickly dissected the reaction as a sexual one.
The sensation grew the more I managed to relax; constant pressure applied by his
length sliding in and out was pleasant, but when he jammed into whatever it was, my
toes curled.
What is that? I wheezed past the bars of my fingers the fourth time he hit his mark.
268

Ashers answer came in a knowing grin and a warm grip that wrapped around my
erection. The hand squeezed at my aching member, rubbing the length in a rhythm
that easily matched his thrusting. A combination of the two had my head spinning. My
effort doubled to keep my voice trapped in my throat, a feat difficult on its own, but
now the sounds climbing up were spurred by a reaction I had never felt before. I
didnt know how to handle it. My body didnt know how to handle it. He stretched me
gradually, pushing in a bit more with his inward thrusts, mixing the oncoming pain of
invasion with a pleasure I didnt understand.
It wasnt pleasure, it couldnt be pleasure. Pleasure was a warm cup of fresh coffee, or
sinking my teeth into a delicious, flavor filled muffin. It was the warm licks I got from
Porto when I woke up in a freezing environment with nothing to greet me but his
wagging tail and empty trashcans. It was the satisfaction of knowing I wouldnt get
hurt if I made someone hate me, if I never let them close. It was the insane
gratification I got when I found myself independent and free. No, what Asher made
me feel wasnt pleasure.
It was bliss.
His grip tightened on my hip, dragging me up higher on the propped pillow to give us
both a better angle. The stroking on my erection slowed to a measly hold before the
hand completely fell away. Bending over me, Asher placed one hand down on the
edge of the couch for balance and stretched the other to ground it next to my head.
His face was an obscure mix of shadows, but I could make out the slight part in his lips
as I listened for his breath. Here I was, ready to scream my head off, and all he did was
pant lightly.
I hated him for being able to still keep some of his composure when I was completely
drowningbut I noticed the faint outlines of his face distort the slightest bit when I
spontaneously clenched on his receding cock. He dropped closer to me, pushing his
lips against the curvature of my throat as he wedged in deeper. Dont, the vibration
of the word touched my bobbing adams apple, forcing a stuttering moan out of my
tightly pressed lips.
Why not?
I flexed my taut fingers against my mouth, shifting them to let fresh air into my
repressed lungs as my curiosity peeked. I wanted to do it again. Why couldnt I?
Focusing deliberately on his reaction, I tightened the hold of my muscles on his slow
pumping cock. Two things happened then; he turned his face into my shoulder to bite
down on the vulnerable muscle, and while one hand pinned my chest to the ground
he completely sheathed his engorged prick into my body.

269

Any semblance of control swiftly disintegrated into myths and fairytales. If I was human
before, I was nothing now. My eyes grew hazy with tears birthed from the impact; if
not for the initial pain, I would have shot my load then and there. He filled me entirely
with his girth, and I swore that I felt his member pulse. I must have started some sort of
noise, because when my focus flickered back into place I found his hand cupped
over the both of mine, pushing harder into my mouth.
You dont listen well, do you? he panted against my shoulder, his breath released in
a harsher fashion. I said not to do that.
For some ridiculous reason, hearing him say that drove me up the wall. I was incredibly
turned on. Being capable of making Asher Pickett lose his restraint was awesome.
He kissed at the tender, bitten area as he went back to supporting himself with both
hands, leaving the task of being quiet to me once again. His thrusts picked up a bit
more speed, probably because I was much more relaxed, and my system soon went
into overload with all the new sensations bombarding me. Daring to remove my hands
from my mouth, I tucked my lip in under my teeth and hooked my fingers onto his
clothed shoulders.
In a primitive state of mind, I closed my eyes to focus only on the building feeling in the
pit of my stomach. My hard on twitched against my abdomen, eager for the orgasm I
knew was coming. Asher caught onto my transition and picked up one hand to gently
pet at my side. Are you close? he whispered, to which I gave a mindless nod.
Good, his tone thickened. My eyes flashed open just as the petting hand migrated
to my throbbing cock. The index and thumb formed a ring beneath the weight of my
ballsac, applying ample pressure to the sensitive skin. The ejaculation that should have
rippled through my cock never made it to the tip.
What.. I gasped in disbelief.
Do you want to come? He had stopped moving, fully buried inside of me.
At first his touch was just uncomfortable, but he kept squeezing until the pressure
became painful. As I began to lose my erection, he gave a few quick strokes to
rejuvenate the arousal, then switched his firm grip to the base of my balls. My hands
quivered in a mad dash from his shoulders to his wrist, attempting desperately to pry his
grip off my poor sex. Let go! I whined.
Do you want to come? he repeated, tightening his hold. I squirmed uncomfortably
beneath him, earning myself some delightful friction in the process; except it wasnt so
delightful when the pressure built and I couldnt come.

270

Yes, I relented.
Say please, he dared.
My heart beat shot through the roof, both with rage and excitement. I was literally at
the edge, so ready to explode, but he kept me dangerously teetering. In an act of
pure stubbornness, I bit down into my lower lip and shook my head as my hands
continued to claw his ruthless hold. If he let go just a little bit
Say please, Muffin, Asher hummed, offering a gentle kiss.
No, I grunted past clenched teeth. Ready to show me who was boss, he withdrew
his length the slightest bit and slammed back into me. I stifled my anguished moan by
biting harder into my lips.
Say Please, let me come. I want to come, he paused, giving a lick to my gnawing
mouth. Go on. I want to hear you say it, he mumbled while his hold loosened the
slightest bit, his thumb curving to pet up the shaft.
Why are you such a sadistic bastard? I whimpered at the sensation. Oh god, god, I
wanted it so much. I wanted to come. I did, I did.
Im not sadistic, Im controlling. There is a difference. Now say it, he growled.
This was payback, wasnt it? For licking my lips, for squeezing on his cock when he told
me not to, for for everything. I sucked in my breath, allowing the low volume of the
television to once again become the only sound in the room. Challenging my
defiance, Asher started a series of short, shallow thrusts, chipping away at my
reluctance with every plunge.
Oh god, oh fuck.
The opposing warm lips coyly brushed over mine, not only teasing, but urging me to
speak the horrid request. He kissed and suckled, evil in every way imaginable. The
cruel hand loosened enough to let me build to just the right level before squeezing
again, stealing my orgasm from me. Say it, he murmured into my mouth.
I cracked.
I want to come. Please. Please, let me come, I caved in like the weak idiot I was.
Satisfied with my answer, Asher removed the clutching fingers from my swelled balls. In
one smooth movement, he pulled the cushion out from under me and dropped his
own body closer. The greedy lips locked onto mine, stealing air and sound from my
271

throat as his bucking hips picked up in speed. I didnt realize how slow he was going
before until then, when his impaling cock drove into me at a compelling speed. As if
to make up for his earlier mistreatment, or perhaps reward me for giving in, one of his
hands jacked off my tortured cock until I couldnt stand it anymore.
The earth moved, rocks shattered, I dont know what happened, but I was gone. I
shook so violently against him that he wrapped one arm around my waist to keep me
steady. My sphincter muscle spasmed around his cock, milking an orgasm out of him
as his mouth continued to muffle my voice; he managed to pull out before he shot his
load, though I had no idea how that amount of control was accessible to him at that
point. Any minute now I expected Anna and Zack to come running out, holding a bat
and ready to ward off what they probably thought were intruders. But no one came,
no lights turned on, and as the soothing bristle of endorphins engulfed my body I fell
immobile.
I didnt want to move, not even an inch. I felt perfectly satisfied lying there, eyes
closed, body relaxed, listening to the two sets of lungs breathing. I could feel the
musical beating of his heart against my chest, pulsating through both of our shirts as he
melted against my thigh. I didnt want to think about the grease in my ass, or the
awkward moisture that soiled my shirt; I fixated only on the blissful feeling of my
ejaculation. I felt so good.
Delicious, I heard him say. He kissed the surface of my panting lips and slowly
withdrew.
More than ever, I wanted to sleep. Just sleep. So I did.

I know be a bit rude sometimes

nd child
Yes, and childish, but a sweet boy. Once. get to know him, youll
I barely made out the words as my consciousness came back to me, rousing me from
a delightfully dreamless sleep. My eyes popped open, one at a time, to stare thickly at
some sort of red fabric directly in front of me. The blurred effect of slumber took a few
seconds to dissipate, but when it did I realized I was laying face down on the couch.
Red cushions. Right.
Oh god, my stomach. It hurt.
272

Hes a very clever kid. I remember when he Zacks familiar voice drifted in and out
of my ears, stealing my attention. He was nearby, but not in my line of sight. That didnt
leave a lot of options.
I bent my fingers, testing their strength before I dared to reach up and grab at the
structure of the couch. Following the voice leaking from the next room, I pushed my
upper torso up as I slid my feet off the cushions. The uncomfortable remainders of the
night reminded me of their presence the moment I stoodwell, not stood. More like, I
tried to stand up, but the soreness in my ass spread a weakness to my legs that
instantly buckled my knees. A loud thump echoed in the living room when I toppled
over.
Which I thought would neverWhat on earth? Zacks voice abruptly cut off. His
heavy footsteps quickly approached, sending little tremors through the floor. I grunted
as I pulled myself up by grabbing at the couch arm, managing to lean one hipbone
against the structure just as the bulky man moved toward me. Muffin! You alright?
Yeah, sure, I groaned, trying to ignore the pulsing in my rectum. Ow. That definitely
didnt feel good. He reached out to help me balance, but I waved one hand in front
of me to stop him. Just sore, and I paused, giving a nervous lick to my lower lip.
sweaty. Among other things.
Ah, kids, he chuckled his little Santa Claus chuckle. Well, come on into the kitchen.
Anna set aside some breakfast for...
Sure thing, Ill, uh, be right there. When my ass stopped hurting. Fuck, it felt like a
metal drill plowed into me all night. Oh wait...
I refocused my eyes on Zacks face, noticing the unsure glance offered. It persuaded
me to look myself over to make sure nothing was out of place. Beside the fact that I
was wearing a different shirt, a much longer one, nothing was too off. Pants? Check.
Boxers? Check. I was fully clothed. What? I wrinkled my nose into my face,
attempting to throw a scowl his way.
Your, uh, he paused, chucking an ambiguous gesture towards his own shoulder. ...
you have something he tried, repeating the unclear signal. He was beginning to
make me nervous.
For Christs sake, what?
A bruise, he spat out. I didnt immediately understand why embarrassment tinged his
expression, but as he continued to stare at my neck the little gears in my brain clicked

273

into place. Hastily, I slapped a hand against the inside of my throat, blocking the
evidence I realized must have been there.
Its just a bruise! I rasped, my cheeks warming up.
My Santa Claus suddenly broke into a beaming smile, translating my annoyance as
something much, much more. Thats what I said, he chuckled.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Why arent you at the diner? I huffed, flustered.
Still grinning, Zack threw his eyes down to the watch on his wrist. He didnt push the
issue with my bruise any further, but he kept the strangely happy look on his face
when he turned to disappear back into the kitchen. The clattering that followed
taunted my curiosity enough for me to risk walking; it was predictably uncomfortable, I
was sore and aching and slimy. Enough said.
The throb of my stomachs bruise had me craving some instant relief from the
morphine pills, but no sooner had I glanced around the room did I realize I didnt have
them anymore.
Using every obstacle to my advantage, leaning on a table here, the back of a chair
there, I limped my way over to the entrance of the kitchen. My right hand gripped at
the doorway as I tilted my weight forward to peek inside. At one corner, Zack stood
beside the counter, pouring coffee into a stupid mug I made him when I was thirteen.
It was badly shaped, not even a complete cylinder, with stupid drawings of cats and
dogs on one side, paper airplanes on the other. Why he kept the ugly thing was
beyond me.
On the other side of the kitchen, sitting at the white circular table by the window, was
Anna, beside none other than Asher Pickett. He greeted me with a conceited smirk
and a salute of the commercial mug in his hand. I almost went into a state of shock
looking at him; if my tender muscles hadnt confirmed the events of the night as
reality, seeing him in Annas kitchen sure did. Ugh, I couldnt believe I moaned for that
prick.
Big, big prick.
Youre still here? I blurted out, mostly to stop my thoughts from going down the
wrong path.
Zack turned to follow my glare toward Asher, who gazed back at me rather calmly. It
wouldnt be polite to leave without thanking my hosts, he said.
274

What a courteous young man! Anna beamed, giving Asher an appreciative look
over before glancing at me. Ah, but Ive taught this boy no manners, she sighed
heavily, giving a shake of her head.
I winced at her comment, hating the guilt I felt just by hearing her tone. Good
morning I attempted to regain her favor. How is everyone doing today?
Asher chuckled at my practiced speech, his smile not quite matching the kinder one
that warmed the face of the beautiful, silly woman next to him. He looked so fucking
smug, no doubt pleased with himself for turning me into a gimp. Judging by his wet
hair, I made an educated guess that hed taken a shower. Zack had lent him a navy
sweatshirt and fresh sweatpants; he actually looked like a normal, ordinary citizen for
once. But he wasnt one. I needed to stop looking at him. And thinking about him.
Asshole. God, he was such an asshole.
Did he pop your cherry, Muffin?
What? I gasped, whipping my head over to Zack.
Did you want a cherry muffin? he repeated, a slightly confused look on his aged
face.
I was fucking losing it.
No I spoke slowly, carefully, afraid of my own thoughts. I was about to ask for
coffee when I noticed Asher shifting in his seat. My eyes wandered back toward him,
transfixing on the prepped grace he used to reach out and pluck a cherry from the
top of a lightly frosted muffin. He raised it up to his lips, biting down just at the root of
the stem as he tweaked the green off. I swallowed thickly when he started to chew, a
crooked grin on his lips.
These are delicious, Miss Anna, he groaned in delight, the familiar word and manner
sending a light shiver down my back.
Thank you, she smiled warmly. Youre welcomed to take some with you.
Ill do that, he glanced toward me.
Did um I struggled to break my eye contact with him, but the stern gaze bore
into me with such persistence, I jus I trailed off, the moisture in my mouth quickly
disintegrating.

275

It felt preposterously unsettling to be in the same room with him after what
happenedI just couldnt look at him the same way. We had touched on an intimate
square in our little board game, and I knew there was no turning back from here. I
could have acted outraged with him, I could have lashed out, but the truth of the
matter was that I let everything happen. I let him touch me; I even went so far as to
tease him. I begged for my orgasm. I didnt feel used, I felt responsible. I wanted it. I
loved how it made me feel.
Id definitely do it again.
But where did that leave me? Asher had everything in the world, he could have
anyone he wanted. He had me. So was he done playing with me now? Was I another
notch on his belt? Would he just disappear? And what about me? Was I going to turn
into a sex fiend? Horny and hungry for cock? I didnt know. The unlimited possibilities
scared me; I had no experience in this field and I needed guidance. Still, I didnt want
to seem like a needy, clingy virgin, so I tried to act as casual about the situation as
possible.
Why dont you have a seat, sweetie? Annas warm voice broke the mold,
compelling me to look at her instead of the unrelenting grey eyes.
Her comment reminded me of my soreness, and just as I grunted I thought I saw Anna
blush. She tilted her head away, occupying her gaze by averting it across the table.
One of her dainty hands picked up a muffin from the pile, shuffling it onto the plate
already holding crumbs in front of her. I disregarded the uncharacteristic quiet that
came as I remained by the doorframe, using the structure to balance out most of my
weight. My mind was on getting to the bathroom and cleaning up, but I didnt want
to leave the serene setting just yet. It was kind of nice.
Even with Asher there.
We should get going, Zack sipped at his coffee, throwing a side-glance at his wife.
Where are you going? I piped up. The moment was so perfect, so peaceful, why
were they leaving? I almost forgot that there was a business waiting to be run
downstairs.
We have to open up the diner, kiddo, Zack chuckled, Lord knows we need the
he stopped short when Anna shot him a death glare, turning his words into ash in his
throat. The tranquil mood of the room instantly shattered with the tension bubbling into
the air, suffocating the married couple. I searched their expressions for an answer, but
they both hurriedly avoided my eyes.
What? Need the what?
276

The fresh air, Anna quipped. Her hand pushed harshly at the table as she slid her
chair back, screeching her way up to her feet.
Anna, what is it? I prodded further, worry burning my lungs while I watched her
approach.
Nothing you need to worry about honey, she stretched one hand out to tenderly
touch my cheek, reminding me on contact of the cuts still marring my skin. Sensing my
oncoming inquiry, she leaned forward to whisper the only question that could have
wiped my mind clean at that point; But did you use a condom last night?
My brain shut down. Completely. From her touch, I expected her to demand my story
for the wetness and wounds, but when she brought up a condom, my thoughts
entirely derailed. So did she know what we did last night? How much did she know?
Had she seen? Or just heard? Damnit! Did Zack know too? Fuck, he did now. No, we
didnt use a condom, but he hadnt come inside of me either. What did that mean? I
needed to do more researchwhy was I thinking about research? I was freaking out, I
didnt know what to say.
My reaction was counted on, it had to be; by the time my stunned sanity shook off the
surprise, Anna and Zack had already made their escape to the door. What a
minute! I gasped, reaching towards them. I would have run, but I knew my soreness
wouldnt let me even halfway across the room without threatening my balance.
Bye, sweetheart! There is left over pasta in the refrigerator! Anna called before the
door shut behind her.
Damnit, I cursed at the following click. Foiled again. It sucked that they both knew
how to deal with me, but I cared about them to death. They were the most important
people to me; if they needed my help
You care about them, Asher pointed out like the malapert he was. I tore my eyes
from the door to glance back into the kitchen, where he was still sitting quietly on his
side of the table.
What tipped you off? I growled, furrowing my eyebrows.
He shifted in his seat, rocking to relax his spine against the backrest of the chair as his
fingers gave one roll of drumming. All games aside, why didnt you let them adopt
you?
People kept asking questions I wasnt prepared to answer. Today wasnt going to be a
good one, I could already tell; first the hickey, then the condom, now this? I raised my
277

hand up to self-consciously rub at my neck, already able to feel the ache and
heaviness that came with the past. His serious tone compelled me to reply with an
equally serious response. Because theyre not my parents. And they already have a
son.
They hardly seem the type to mind extra company, he hinted.
Yeah, well, theyre not my parents.
They were your default guardians for six years, he gave another drum of his fingers.
The next step only seems logical.
How the fuck do you know that? I snarled, digging my fingertips into my skin.
The corner of his lip twitched, no doubt hiding a self-satisfied grin. I took the liberty of
questioning Miss Anna. As your new employer, I assured her I needed to know
everything about you. I also put her mind at ease by mentioning it was for your own
good if I didnt approach you directly, he paused, finally letting his grin crack
through. She seemed to agree.
Annas too trusting for her own good, I grumbled. And I doubted she still thought he
was my employer if she had seen Ugh. I had to give him props though; he was more
manipulative than I originally thought. What else did she tell you?
Youre allergic to shellfish, so I should keep that off the menu, he offered an amused
chuckle. My allergies? Really? Since when did an employer need to know that? I was
surprised she didnt mention my deathly fear of waterbut then again she thought I
was pretty much over that; which is why she didnt argue when my job at the docks
came up, or why she didnt freak out when I showed up wet last night. Her continuous
dyeing of my drinking water was just habit now.
What did you tell her? About last night, I mean.
A reasonable explanation. Lets not lose track of the real conversation youre
avoiding. The adoption? he added.
Long-term foster placement, they called it. I had behavioral problems; more like I
was a brat and no one could handle me, or figure out why I was a continuously angry
child. State psychiatrists got sick of me and sane families didnt want me, the only
people I stayed longer than a week with were Zack and Anna. Although initially in no
way certified, they became my foster family. I trusted only them, and they took me in
without question. I might have let them adopt me... no, I might have begged them to
adopt me if it wasnt for Jasons existenceOf course I didnt tell Asher any of this.

278

Why do you care, anyway? I sighed, glancing over my shoulder and down the hall.
Curiosity, he hummed, "You haven't made yourself any less of a mystery over the
past couple of days. No name, no age, no history," he paused, giving a soft tap to the
countertop. "No home. No family. No where to go."
"You're not exactly an open book yourself," I dodged the implied questions.
"No," he agreed. The moment I pictured him frowning, just by the tone of his voice, I
knew Id spent way too much time around him. I didnt know what to focus on again;
the embarrassment of Anna knowing about my extracurricular activities, the light
pulsing in my rectum, or the presence of the man who was to blame for both. I opted
for the third, prying my eyes away from the door of the bathroom back into the
kitchen.
He leaned against the table, shoulders hunched, head tilted toward the cup in front of
him. The image faintly resembled a statue caught in time, just pondering what the past
and future were to him. I found the urge to reach out and touch him, just to make sure
he was real, so I dug my fingers harder into the nape of my neck. The slight jolt of pain
snapped me out of my unreasonable thoughts, but also brought up anotherPain.
Ashers pain. He was bleeding after the wreck, he was hurt, a very delicate detail Id
forgotten about last night on the couch. Not that hed shown any pain, though.
Where was he hurt? His arm and his fuck, I didnt know. How utterly selfish of me.
Do you need a first aid kit?
He tore his eyes away from the cup, centering his attention back to me. I didnt
understand the humor in his eyes, it wasnt like I was offering to patch him up, I was just
going to tell him where the kit was. I pushed my lips into a frown as he shook his head,
refusing my bout of stupid kindness.
I didnt respond, not verbally. If he wanted to sit in pain, that wasnt my problem, but
what was my problem needed to be cleaned in the bathroom. I replaced both hands
onto the doorframe as I slid my weight from one end of the entrance to the other. I
was two steps into the hallway when I heard his voice shred through the silence of the
abandoned house; Stay with me.
My heart rate burst through the healthy parameter, out into oblivion. I hiked my weight
back to peer into the kitchen as I tried to keep my expression as calm as possible.
What?
Stay with me, he repeated in a deadpan voice. I have ample room in my home,
whereas youre lacking one all together. I have a feeling you wont be staying here
any longer than I will. Perhaps less, he gave a gesture to the room.
279

Oh, thats what he meant. I had taken his words much too literally, not that they were
far from the truth. I dont want your charity, I sighed tiredly, refusing his stupid
kindness right back.
Charity? he clicked his tongue against his teeth in a soft tsk. No, no. Youll be
earning your keep through hard and proper work. That was ironic, coming from him.
Miss Anna has mentioned that you make wonderful muffins. This skill will be helpful, as
Ive grown rather attached to her delicacies. Ugh, occupational hazard. Living with
two cooks tended to rub some skills off on the people around them, but my desserts
were nowhere as delicious as Annas. I can offer you food, shelter, he paused,
fishing out the bottle of morphine pills from the sweaters pocket to gently set it down
in front of him. The pills gave a soft clink against the orange container, taunting me
with the relief they promised. Appropriate luxuries, adequate income Protection,
he added.
Protection? I didnt want to think about why I would need that.
And I would be, what? Your amusement? I spat in distaste.
An investment, he grinned brazenly, like he knew something I didnt. At least I wasnt
another notch on his beltin fact, it seemed like I was going up the ladder. First I was a
stray dog to own, then amusement, and now an investment. Next, maybe hed let me
be his butler.
No, I gave a small lick to my lips. Thank you, I snorted at my own mental imagery.
Me, in a butlers outfit? No way.
Very well. His grin faded as he pushed his body up from the seat. His right hand
snatched the medication, stuffing it back into his pocket as he turned towards me. I
pressed my body tightly against the wall when he strode down, his gallant stride
holding no visible imperfection. He was hurt, right?
He stopped short of passing me, purposely angling his body so that my position against
the wall very quickly became uncomfortable. The same hand that had taken away
the pills stretched out to cup my chin, tilting it up towards him. One corner of the warm
lips twitched upward, bringing forth the crooked grin I was growing oddly fond of,
before he leaned down to give a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. I remained
consciously immobile, flattening myself as much as humanly possible; it would have
been too hard to keep the casual-act otherwise.
When you change your mind, you know where to find me, he whispered.

280

I didnt find my voice until he dropped my chin and turned towards the door. You
mean if I change my mind, I retorted stubbornly.
No, he said.
So youre going to drag me off again?
Not this time, he laughed quietly, that soothing, gentle laugh. I watched as he bent
down to grab a plastic bag left beside the door, the material too dark for me to make
out anything inside. I assumed his clothes, maybe even mine.
I knew what he was doing; From now on, if I chose to step into his life, it would be my
decision. My fault. He was giving me a choicewith a few blatant catalysts already in
place. His offer of protection hinted that I might be in danger, and his slip of
adequate before income let me know he was as aware of my foster parents
monetary problems as I was. He had planted so many little seeds, he knew they would
blossom one way or another, and as I felt the ache in my body climb I had a feeling
he was right.
I was just too stubborn to admit it.
His attachment made no sense to me. My best guess? He really was bored with his life
and stepping into mine offered him a distraction from his own problems. He got a
mystery to solve. Thats what I presumed, since he kept saying I was his amusement.
Maybe my uncontrolled tongue was just a good break from everyone in his life kissing
his ass. Maybe he was psychotic and wanted to add me to a collection of human
slaves he kept in his basement. I didnt know. I wished I could see his thoughts, his life,
his past. What exactly went through his head? What was his plan for me?
Not that his plans had been holding up very well; I highly doubted that Asher
planned for his car to freak out, for me to bring him back to Annas, or for us to have
a strangely memorable night in the living room. Life took such unpredictable turns. I
knew that fact first hand.
As my distraction opened the front door, I reached down to selfishly coddle the bruise
on my stomach. Asher didnt spare me a second glance when he closed the door
behind him.
And just like that, he was out of my life.

281

I didnt think I would see him again.

Wait I began, stretching one hand out toward the door. It was the ringing of the
phone that cut my voice off, hollowing the inside of the apartment. With a quick
glance to the door, already closed, I took the two hiccupping steps towards the
receiver and picked it up. Montgomery residence, I sighed.
Stop him, an unfamiliar voice ordered.
Excuse me? I furrowed my eyebrows together.
Accept his offer. Stop him from leaving. Do it now! it roared.
I slammed the receiver down into its hold in a fury, fingers shaking with the small spike
of fear that shot through my veins. Someone was listening to me? No, listening to
Asher. Perhaps even watching him. I twisted to look around the room as the phone
rang again, signaling that the stranger on the other side wasnt about to drop their
conquest so quickly. Honestly, I shouldnt have been surprised. After everything Id
seen, a tap in the house seemed elementary.
Shit, I hissed, growing even more agitated when I realized that they must have heard
last nightheard me last night. Embarrassing myself was becoming second nature.
I tried to think of all the spy movies Id seen, to calculate where they could have put
any bugs or cameras. My body ached too much for me to go running around
checking every nook and cranny though, and I still needed to go clean up. The phone
continued to ring obnoxiously as I cursed under my breath, my hand supporting me all
the way down the hall, into the bathroom. Baths were out of the question after my
water ride, but I snatched a towel to wet and sponge myself with. Fuck the cops, I
didnt care what they wanted me to do. What had I done in the past to make them
think I was going to listen anyway?

282

I spent a good hour in the bathroom licking my wounds after I cleaned up, dissecting
most of them from one inch of my body to the other; a cut here, a scab there,
numerous bruises, hickeys on my neck
The bastard had marked me.
It was already clear I needed to put some effort into covering up his abuse. My attire
would have to consist of long sleeves to hide as many of my wounds as possible, and I
planned on borrowing a scarf from Zack to keep the marks on my neck out of sight. I
was hoping it would also keep them out of mind.
I had to be careful not to say anything because of the apparent tap in Annas
housenot that I liked talking to myself, but paranoia steadily stapled iron wires into
my throat. Id have to do something about that as soon as possible, like. Like what? I
wasnt an expert in taps. Was the phone tapped too? Did they have a warrant?
The phones pursuit of my attention died sometime while I was in the bathroom, so
when I came back out it was, thankfully, to a silent apartment. My eyes wandered
down the hall, my heart half-expecting to jump out of my throat with the inevitable
presence of someone unknown in Annas house. Michael? The cops? I waited with
churning anxiety for some sort of sound, but none came. I was alone.
Good, maybe they realized I was a lost cause. Or they found a better rat. Regardless,
it was time to take care of business.
If Anna and Zack needed money, I had to help them. Whatever trouble they were in, I
planned on killing myself to get them out of it. I pushed my way into Jasons room as I
tried to come up with a plan of some sort, something to solve every problem.
No one had been in the room for months, I could tell the moment I walked in. The two
beds seemed untouched, perfectly made and creaseless. Where did Asher sleep? On
the floor? Light dust lined the shelves closest to me, with all the grand books Anna
once used for my lessons. Some of my old toys were still on the left side of the room,
most of them broken, cracked, or burned from Jasons abuse. I sighed at the familiar
setting, hating the memories that came with them. If I could have flicked a switch to
turn the sunlight off, I would have.
Instead, I grabbed the drawers nearby to jerk them open. Faithfully devoted, Anna still
kept clothes my size in the top two drawers, the ones that were mine. I changed into
plain black pants and a light blue shirt. Not forgetting my strategy to cover up my cuts,
I grabbed a jacket, then ducked into the master bedroom for one of Zacks scarves.
I tried not to focus directly on the pain that throbbed through me, and for some relief I
snatched aspirin from the medicine cabinet. I didnt want to linger for any questions or
283

lectures from my foster parents, though something told me they were more curious
than pissed. Still, I quickly made my getaway. So many places to go, people to see
but the phones cry filled the living room just as I stepped up to the threshold of the
apartment. It was once again beckoning me back to square one. I paused, offering it
a glance, then pushed myself outside.
The stairs were agony; my transportation method had been completely sabotaged,
and hed taken the morphine pills with him. It was for the best, I supposed, because it
already looked like I was going down the addicted lane.
I wouldnt have been surprised to see a SWAT team outside when I finally made it to
the back door, or Michael out for my blood, maybe more of Ashers men coming to
fetch me. I only found trashcans though, and a few crows that fluttered away the
moment I opened the door. My sense of time instantly came chortling back. The fast
pace of Ashers life disappeared with him, and I fell back into the ordinary velocity of
my own existence.
Well, sort of.
The influence he left behind became painfully blatant as soon as I started out my
dayjust turning the corner, I met eyes with a random stranger, and my mind
exploded in seven different lists of why they would be looking at me. Cops? Killers?
Suitors? Did he think I was cute?
Oh for fucks sake, I groaned at myself, shaking my head away from the man
standing at the curb to redirect my eyes down the street. Travel shouldnt have been
an option with the bruises that hindered my ability to move correctly, but I didnt want
to be a useless leech and stay on Annas couch all day. I moved as slowly as possible
while the aspirin accurately masked the pain. Even with its slow help, I didnt walk at
my normal pace, so it was a good thing my destination wasnt very far; I just needed a
phone.
I slowly ventured to the front of the diner, pausing just outside the door to peek in. From
what I could see, only Sandy and Cassandra were in the front. My left hand moved to
push the door open as I poked my head in, once again scouting the immediate area
for my foster parents. When I was sure they werent in sight, I took a few steps inside
and waved Sandy over.
Muffy! she chirped.
Hey Sandy, can I borrow your cell phone?
O-oh! Of course! she exclaimed. One of her hands dashed into her bosom, pulling
out a delicate little pink phone from what I could only guess to be her bra. I sighed at
284

her tactics as I took the warm object in my hand, not bothering to ask why she didnt
just use her aprons pockets.
Thanks, Ill be right back. I was glad she didnt ask why I needed it, my head hurt too
much to come up with any lies just yet. Sandy gave me one of her carefree grins while
I slipped back outside into the busy street, my finger already dialing 411. The public
bustled past me as I wandered off down the sidewalk; waiting for the operator on the
other side to ask me which number I needed and fetch it for me. People came and
went, never touching each others lives, never affecting each other, fluttering into
their own worlds with no real regard. I watched, the usual spectator outside of lives I
would never know, but again I found myself more curious than usual. I wanted to
know; what was his story? And hers? What about them? That family, what went on in
their lives? Were they like me?
Hello? Hello?
Ah, yes, hello, I snapped my head down, away from a mother and child, to refocus
onto the pavement beneath my feet. Is this the right number?
The girl on the other end sounded logically annoyed. Pickett Industries, sir, how can I
help you? Apparently the operator had already connected me.
I need to talk to Mr. Pickett, I paused, chewing on my lower lip. Its an emergency.
The receptionist gave a laugh, obviously finding my blunt request a joke. If youd like
to leave a message, Ill make sure to send it his way.
No, I sighed, shifting my weight uncomfortably. I need to talk to him. Now. Its an
emergency, okay? Can you just tell him that Im calling? Wow, I couldnt believe I
was actually assuming hed care. I need to talk to him, I paused again, I didnt know
how to go about this, its an emergency, I repeated.
I understand, sir, I could tell she was fighting back a laugh, But Mr. Pickett is a very
busy man, so if you just leave your name and number
Look, I growled. I was steadily running out of patience. Just go get him. I dont care
if you have to barge into a meeting and wave a notepad in his face. I need to talk to
him, this is important, to me, at least, And I can assure you Ill have your job if you
dont get off your ass and fetch him right now. Hell be a very angry man if he doesnt
get the information I have, you understand?
The line went dead. The soft click I heard let me know that the bitch had hung up on
me. Fuck, go figure. I didnt really expect it to work, but I didnt know how else to
reach him. I didnt have his business card anymore. So I called the number back,
285

waiting for the girl to pick up. Pickett Industries, Samantha speaking, how may I help
you?
Listen here, Samantha! I need to talk to him! Dont hang up on me! Tell him Muffin
needs to talk to him, and if you dont then Ill keep calling back until you
Just a moment, please, she replied politely. I heard the click again, but it was
different from the first, this one was followed by elevator music. What? Really? Why did
she connect me? unless she was calling the cops. Damnit!
I rocked my weight back against the diners outside wall, resting my head on the
bricks that lined the side of the building. The soft music weaved in and out of my ear,
bristling a sense of eerie calm over me. It was so different from the chaos emerging
from the sidewalk, the discord of feet, the jumble of voices, every busy life moving
onward as quickly as the last; like Asher. He was always on the move, wasnt he? What
made me think he would even be in his office? Maybe he went home first, to change..
or maybe he was in an important meeting or in the middle of another shoot out.
That was fast, a familiar voice chuckled into my ear. Goose bumps rippled down my
spine at the chime of his laughter. That sound was going to consume me.
Shut up, I hissed, tightening my grip on the phone. Im not calling because of your
offer.
No?
No, I huffed, This is much more important. I heard a faint clink, and it didnt take
long for me to imagine him pouring bourbon into a shiny crystal glass filled with ice
cubes. Theres a tap in Annas house.
A what? he laughed again, driving my nerves to the very edge.
A tap, you know, like they put a bug in the house and they can hear everything. They
might even have the phone tapped!
So are you calling to warn me?
My cheeks grew warm with the blush devouring my face, making me oh so glad that
he was nowhere in sight. With an exasperated sigh, I brought my free hand up to slap
my palm against my forehead. No, I groaned, I called to make sure you clean up
after the mess you left behind. My mind ricocheted to all the wrong images of mess,
but I managed to pull myself back before I lost control of the conversation. This cop
thing is your problem, not mine, and not Annas. I dont want Anna and Zack involved,
so do whatever it is you do. Clean out the bugs or something.
286

What did they want from you?

I ground my teeth into my lower lip as an arguing couple brushed past me, the girl
chattering about an arrangement while the guy humbly apologized. I fixed my eyes
onto the back of her head, to the small pompom that bounced off her hat. It became
steadily apparent to me that if the authorities cared enough to put a bug in Annas
house, they would probably have someone watching nearby. My eyes instantly
darted about in a paranoid manner. They want me to spy on you, I whispered.
By all means, the smooth voice purred.
I have to go, I grunted, crushing the phone tighter in my hand. Will you take care of
the problem?
Sure, he chuckled. A door slammed in the background and I heard the clink again,
louder this time. Let them know someone will be stopping by to fix a leak. Ill send
them in the afternoon. Oh, and Muffin? I waited with bated breath. Did you want
my number? For when you change your mind? I hung up.
The nerve of that man was incredible, if he thought I was going to go running well, I
wasnt! If I could have taken care of the bug problem by myself, I would have. I tried
to keep my temper under wraps when I sank back into the diner to return Sandys
phone. Thanks again, I said. She discretely slid the pink object back into the cut of
her bosom, not even bothering to censor the motion as she snapped the bra over the
rectangular object. I shook my head at her as she grinned back at me.
Wait, Sandy? I quickly flung my right hand out, grabbing onto her sleeve before she
could tend another booth. She almost dropped the large Pineapple Muffin she was
carrying. Where are Anna and Zack?
She must have heard the hitch in my voice, because she immediately broke eye
contact with me. But my worry rested on the fact that I was about to lie to them. What
was Sandys excuse? I couldnt help but frown at the reaction; did everyone know
something I didnt? Sandy quickly readjusted the muffin on the plate while she rotated
her body clockwise, back towards the counter. I think theyre in the kitchen.
I gave her a short nod and made a quick beeline to the familiar door.
I wanted to tell them someone was dropping by, so they wouldnt be alarmed, then I
planned on falsely informing them that there really was a leak. They werent in the
kitchen, shifting my destination further to the stock room. A crack in the door spilled a
river of light across the tiled floor, forming a white line that I barely overstepped when I

287

picked up on the quiet sob echoing from the other side. My breath caught in my
throat, reflexively shutting down my lungs to maintain the silence.
through this. We can raise the prices a bit more, none of our regulars will mind,
Zacks voice soothed.
Fifteen years! Fifteen years Ive had this place and they just want to take it all away
from me, came a hiccup in the soft crying. We cant lose this place, Zack. This is
my my she choked, her misery practically tangible. I took another step forward,
peeking past the barrier into the dimly lit room. They both sat in front of some boxes,
their backs to me. Zacks large palm rubbed at her shoulders, her spine, calming her
with his touch.
We can make it through this, love. Dont you cry. You know I hate it when you cry,
my Santa Claus sighed, stretching one hand out to tilt his wifes head up and kiss her
wet cheeks.
A raging headache pounded its way into my temples as I backtracked to the front
again. I felt numb, the kind of numb that hits the body after a dive into a pool in the
middle of winter; quick, cold, relentless. I plopped down on the closest surface while
attempting sorely to keep fragments together. It all seemed so unreal. I was outside
again, looking into the snow globe that had my perfect safe haven inside of it. No
matter what shook the snow globe, the pieces of sparkling paper always fell back to
the bottom, leaving the building in the middle untouched. The diner was supposed to
always be untouched. Always.
I got the hint that they had money troubles, but losing the diner?
My thoughts blurred into each other like sheets of melting ice, overwhelming my poor
tired senses. Taken away? No, I couldnt let that happen. I couldnt. Asher immediately
popped into my brain; what if I called him? Asked him for help? Surely he had the
money. But no, it wasnt his problem, it was minewell, I was about to make it mine.
In the time it took for the couple to remerge from the back, I came up with a devious
plan to help without them ever becoming the wiser.
Hey sweetie, want me to get you some coffee? Anna sniffled subtly, rubbing at her
eyes with the back of two knuckles.
Picketts offered me a job, I blurted. No thought went into my words, I wanted to get
this over with as soon as possible. At his company, I kept my eyes away from the two,
shamed to lie to their faces.
Thats great, sweetie! she gasped, and I heard her hands clasp together excitedly.

288

Hes going to put me in a training program. Says I have potential. Ill be making a lot
of money, I paused, resisting the urge to bite into my lower lip as I stole a glance at
them. I had to be careful, Anna knew my tells, she knew when I was lying. And I was
wondering if I could rent the room upstairs?
Absolutely not, she snapped.
Ill look elsewhere, then, I replied just as quickly and turned my head away.
Muffin, you know thats not what I meant. Your money is no good here, the room is
yours already, she sighed. I didnt correct her, didnt say how it was Jasons room and
always would be. I hated that room.
Sorry, I cant do that. Ive already stayed for too long, but Ill pay for that too. Like I
said, Ill have money, I would be more than able to pay rent for the room. That is, if
youll have me I trailed off, slipping some of the sorrow I felt into my voice. I heard
her sigh again and I knew I was backing her up into a corner. She could take my offer
or lose me again; yes, the choices were cruel but she wouldnt take my money
otherwise. Just do it for me. Itll be one small way for me to pay you back for all the
kindness youve
We never did anything for you that we wanted you to pay us back for, Zack piped in
angrily.
I know that. Like I said, this is for me. So I can feel better about myself. Youll be doing
me a favor in both aspects. Apartments around here are expensive I would be
paying less if I stayed, but still paying, so I wouldnt feel like a leech, I whispered. I just
want to feel a little independent.
Youve always been independent, she laughed tiredly, offering a sweet tilt of her
head. I opened my mouth to utter an ego crippling please when she suddenly
nodded, giving into my request.
Thank you, I forced a grin to my lips.
The right side of the diner had hushed down enough to eavesdrop on our
conversation, but as soon as I turned to glance at the booths nearby the flow of
banter picked back up. I left the not-so-happy couple behind the counter and
removed myself from the diner.

289

I didnt go back to Asher, but I did get a job that night. The Chinese restaurant down
the street needed someone to take out the trash, mop the floors, wash the dishes;
basically the shit work. I took what I could and agreed to start the next night. Three
days later, I found another equally shitty job a couple blocks down to keep me busy in
the mornings. With my schedule, I would never have to step into the room I
hypothetically rented.
I hated that room.
And I cheated; I paid both owners for my rent, first Anna, then Zack, managing to
confuse them by claiming the other asked me to pass on the money. They never
suspected anything; they would never imagine me capable of such manipulation. But
even with that, I had the problem of only paying once a month, which frankly wasnt
going to get them anywhereso I started buying muffins and coffee I didnt need.
I was on a mission to keep my diner in its perfect little snow globe. I couldnt let it
break. Nice people werent supposed to have bad done to them. They werent
supposed to lose everything they had. They werent supposed to hurt. I had to
overcome the selfish refuge in my own little world to help them in theirsno, if
anything, everything I did was more selfish than ever before. By helping the couple, I
was keeping my haven safe and my escape a reality. I needed the diner more than it
needed me.
Asher kept true to his word. Some anonymous nobody showed up to fix a leak, which
I forgot to tell Anna about so she freaked out a bit. But I didnt hear from him
otherwise, and I didnt approach him. Months went by without much of a commotion,
I went to work and back, slept on the couch when I could, and always messed up my
bed in Jasons room so Anna thought I was actually occupying the space. She also
gave me a little speech about safe sex and bought me some condoms. To my
surprise, she didnt seem upset about my sexual experimentation on her living room
floor, more like relieved that I was finally acting like a normal teenager. Thankfully,
Zack wasnt as fully aware as his wife about the situation. I got the feeling that they
tried not to pressure me so they wouldnt chase me awayotherwise they would have
chewed my ears off with questions.
Besides a slight rise in prices, nothing changed in the diner. Reporters didnt flood the
place, killers didnt snipe me, and if the cops were still watching me, they didnt show
themselves. Everything that had happened felt like a dream.
So life went on, and the world kept turning.

290

That one, get that one! a high-pitched voice snapped me out of my thoughts,
spurring me into action. Cold air licked at my fingertips, threatening to snap the nails
off if the wooden box beneath my grip tilted the wrong way. My cut-off gloves did
nothing for my fingers, though I wouldnt be able to maintain a good grip otherwise. I
tensed my healing abdomen as I swung the crate up on top another, building the
stack. The old car creaked miserably when its driver hopped out and slammed the
door shut behind him. That one too, over there! he called.
Keep your pants on, I mumbled.
One job paid every Friday, the other gave paychecks every two weeks. I never cared
much for money and I got rid of every dollar that came into my pocket. Anna found
a hundred dollar bill once in her pocket when doing laundry, Zack got a generous tip
from some rich customer, and I cautiously protected my snow globe. It was all I
thought about; I owed them everything, so I gave them everything.
I knew the treachery of the real world, but I had never worked so hard in my life. Sleep
was a figment of my imagination; not that I was complaining, my dreams had evolved
solely into nightmares or wet dreams. Asher was usually in both.
I dont pay you to stand around!
A train rippling by blared its horn in the near distance, freezing me in my steps as strays
even further away howled at the strange sound. I shifted the heavy box of
merchandise in my grip while another worker brushed past me. A push came to my
back, encouraging me to continue exerting my muscles to their limits, and I thought
dimly of the cold that dug into every crevice of my body. Another push came, this one
from the first worker going to pick up another crate, so I finally moved into action.
Is this it? I sighed as I chucked the load onto the back of the truck.
No, two more. I got it, though, why dont you go get ready? the other worker
replied. His name was Benjamin, a pleasant married man trying to support two kids
and a wife. He knew of my ritual and he waved me off before I could protest.
Thanks, I whispered, shaking my hands free of dirt and wood chippings as I slipped
away from the cold frontier. I had a lot to do before heading back to the dinerthat
included getting into fresh, clean clothes, scrubbing the dirt off my skin, and
bandaging my scraped knuckles. I wanted no chance of Anna discovering my
extramural activities. After weeks on the job Id gotten a bulletproof routine set. I just
had to get my bag, get to the bathroom, change, and discretely take my exit.

291

Hold on, M, the cook called, waving his saucy wooden spoon in front of me just as I
emerged from the back. He refused to call me Muffin, apparently it was below him,
but I was always too tired when I got on this shift to argue any different.
Yeah? I groaned.
Take this to Ren for me? he flicked his spoon down towards a white box near his
workstation, managing to stain the surface with his sticky red sauce.
Actually I was just leaving, I frowned at the box, then threw a finger back toward the
clock on the wall.
Its on your way out, he grunted, cutting me down with his tone. He should be in his
office. And its not heavy. Id take it myself but I have to get this ready.
Damnit Jin, you know I hate that bastard, I growled in protest. I could have stood
there and argued until I got my way, but I was already wasting precious seconds; so I
bent down to pick up the box before balancing it against my hip.
Giving it to Ren was a completely different issue all togetherthe guy gave me the
creeps. Ever since Jin started calling me M, he had tried guessing my name, ignoring
me when I assured him it was Muffin. After a while, Ren started calling me
Marionette, which was creepy on its own. His reasoning consisted of the awkward
observation that my cheeks grew beat red with the ice cold of the night, making me
look like a doll. It wasnt flattering, but he signed the checks and I barely saw him to
begin with so I left well enough alone.
My fingers slipped down the side of the box, my lost grip tipping the balance to the left
before I slammed my other hand out to catch it. One corner gave away beneath my
touch, tearing back the cardboard as I slanted it against my body again. I was so
tired, I started seeing double by the time I made it to the small locker room in the
back. Ginny, the host, clicked past me in her high heels as she offered a lazy smile and
a wave of her hand. I acknowledged her with a nod, though my eyes couldnt quite
place the blurred edges of her face together. Actually, that might not have been
Ginny at all.
I caught sight of her hand waving again, this time trying to stop me when I
approached Rens office door. Hes not in, she said.
Oh, I sighed, shifting the box in my hands again. Where is he?
Hes probably smoking outside. That for him? the blur of her hand moved down,
gesturing to my box. I licked nervously at my lips as I hoisted the damn thing up again,
trying to keep it from slipping to the floor.
292

I guess, I mumbled. More cardboard tore, peeling back with my nails digging into
the solid surface. She said something about after work when I turned away from her,
probably something about drinks, or hanging out, but all I wanted to do was get home
to Annas leftovers and crash on the couch again. I had exactly five hours available
for rest before starting on the morning shift, I didnt need to waste any more time.
The way out the side of the restaurant was, thankfully, on the other side of the locker
room. It was the little alleyway everyone went to for a smoke. I didnt have to go far for
the door to come into view. Looping one arm around the box, I hitched it against my
ribcage as I grabbed the handle of the door and pushed the barrier aside.
Mr. Ren? I called toward the darkness, stepping past a mess of cigarette butts to
venture further into the cold. Mr. Ren, Jin said to bring this to I trailed off when the
door finally creaked shut behind me, showing an absent alleyway. I cursed the blurred
girl as I swung my weight forward to follow the trajectory of the passage, all the way
up to the street. A streetlight flickered ominously nearby, perhaps warning me of the
bad luck to come, but I ignored it when I noticed another body nearby. Mr. Ren?
Sorry baby Ill be rightM! M! a coworker screeched. He slammed his phone into his
pocket, chucking his body in my direction. Is this for Ren? Ill take it to him! Here, can
you give this to the car over there? The blue one, right under the light. Thanks, M!
He switched the saucy box with a warm bag of takeout before I had the chance to
choke out a no, and turned tail to race back into the restaurant. I wasnt a fucking
delivery boy, I had a schedule to keep, didnt these people know that? No one was
around to bitch at though, so I sighed and turned to drag my weight across the street,
to the shady car parked by the streetlight.
Anna always told me everything happens for a reason. I never found the heart to
argue with her, but I never agreed Until that very moment.
If I had never gone into that alleyway to begin with, I would have never met Asher. He
would be dead now, never entwining me in his web, never getting in the accidents,
and I never would have brought him back to Annas in the middle of the night. I would
have never been there to find out about Anna and Zacks monetary problems and I
would have never taken the job at the Chinese restaurant. If Benjamin had just let me
put the final two boxes in the back of the truck, Jin wouldnt have asked me to take
Ren his package, I would have never become the delivery boy, and I wouldnt be
standing there when Alrick rolled down the driver side window.
Ah, Muffin! he gasped.

293

I stood dumbfounded a few steps away from the car, holding the bag of food in front
of me. My eyes stared helplessly, while my thoughts did little to recuperate for the lag
in time and correct my identification sequence. The familiar blonde laughed light
heartedly at my surprise as he popped the door open for himself.
You look horrible, he pointed out with a hint of concern.
I snapped back immediately, as did my arm, pulling the food out of his reach before
he could get a hold of it. Youre no beauty queen yourself, I grunted. Light goose
bumps were already riddling the length of my forearm, prickling beneath my sleeves. I
felt my gaze go to the backseat of the car without my permission. Is he?
What, Asher? Alrick turned to glance at the car, only to return with a grin. No, Im
alone. Just picking up food. May I? he gestured with his hand toward the bag,
reminding me that I still had it in my possession.
Yeah, sure, sorry, I thrust the bag into his hand.
So you work here now? he smiled.
I have to go, I blurted abruptly. I didnt have time for small talk, Id already wasted
enough. With a last glance to the car, I turned to make my way back across the street.
Horrible? I looked horrible? And what if Asher had seen me? I dug my teeth into my
lower lip to remind myself that I didnt care, I had no interest in his opinion.
But he really had changed me. As it were, I truly believed something was wrong; a
secret drug thatd been injected into my system, perhaps, or mixed in my drink. No, I
wasnt horny and out of control like Id feared, but I was so aware now. I picked up
flirting between two individuals like it was a hot fire, just begging for my attention. I
overanalyzed simple comments for deeper meanings. I studied body language for
sexual innuendos.
My mind was a chaotic mad house.
If someone looked at me too long, I pondered if they liked me. What did that glance
mean? Were they flirting with me? Were they spying on me? Were the cops here? Was
Michael around the corner? Id gone from completely careless about the world
around me to pathetically paranoid in the span of one week in Ashers life. I caught
myself reading too much into a hello and rethinking the importance of a see you
later. Honestly, I didnt know what was wrong with me.
Hey M

294

No, I have to go, I growled. I didnt care who was speaking, I wasnt going to run
any more errands. After a quick stop at my locker, I snatched my bag and
disappeared into the employee bathroom.
I had purchased a crappy suit from a mens warehouse nearby, so despite my scuffed
appearance, Anna might just believe I worked behind a desk somewhere shuffling
papers. I still hadnt learned the magical way of ties, so I always left the bright red one
I had hanging loose around my neck. I washed up as much as possible, combed my
hair back, and even changed my shoes. In my new disguise, I escaped through the
side of the restaurant and immediately began my trip home.
I didnt like to admit it, but I threw a few unnecessary glances behind me while I
walked, back toward the light post Alrick was previously parked at. The car was
nowhere in sight; in fact, it all seemed like a dream. I was so tired and it was easy to
pretend I hadnt really seen him at all.
I could have forgotten about him, about them. I could have moved on with my life,
disappeared into the large masses of people that flooded the streets, the faceless
strangers that no one ever knew but tsked and shook their head at when witnessing
their plight on the street corner. I could have vanished. But it didnt matter how much I
ran from the lions, it didnt matter which position I stuffed myself into a box, life was
eventually going to catch up with me.

What? I snapped at Jin a week later, when lo and behold, he handed me a rather
large order to deliver. Im not a delivery boy. Give it to Shawn!
Shawn is busy. Dont you think I would have already done just that instead of standing
here arguing with you if I could have? Now get going, if its not there within the hour
then its free. And if its free, its coming out of your paycheck.
Well arent you just sweet, I snarled. My eyes flickered down to the two plastic bags
on the edge of the table with enough fried rice and egg rolls inside to feed a small
family. This is bullshit.
Tick tock, Jin reminded me.
Fuck off. I should have left it at that, it wasnt like he could have gotten me fired for
not delivering, but I caught sight of Ren making his way to the back and reached out
to grab the bags. Jin slid over the receipt, the address printed at the bottom, before
295

ushering me out of his kitchen through the backdoor. Rens heavily accented jabber
soon echoed through the cracks of the walls, letting me know that my decision was a
good one; better to get away and not hear the owner bitch about how everyone was
a slacker. I shifted both bags to hang off one arm while I thumbed the receipt open,
first snooping on the money spent, with a Master Card, then to the customer name,
Alex. The address wasnt far, just a couple of blocks down. Id easily make it there in an
hour.
So, shifting one bag to each hand, I lugged the unwanted luggage up to the sidewalk
and made my way toward Mulberry Street. The pavement was drowning with the
population, ordinary people racing from point A to point B, rushing to get a bite for
lunch before they suffocated themselves with work again. I kept the food safe by
weaving my body through the masses, sidestepping those in rush and going around
casual walkers.
The large apartment complex I came to looked old, ordinary, with no buzzer to get
into the actual building itself. I avoided the claustrophobic elevator to take the stairs
up to the seventh floor, so I was panting miserably when I finally reached apartment
33. To prevent dropping anything, I set both bags down before reaching into my
pocket to pull out the receipt. Yup, right address.
As I knocked on the door, I noted that this door looked different from the others.
Newer, sturdier, with a recent lock change; this ones handle was bright silver, while
every other Id passed was a dull rusty color. I was studying the thick keyhole above
when the door opened, moving further away from me.
Delive I dont know why, but when I caught a glimpse of the person on the other
side of the door, my first instinct was to run. Not freeze, not to be surprised or angry, but
run. I managed to stagger two steps back before he reached out toward me.
Muffin, his warm voice called. My insides melted the moment he touched me,
grabbing me right above my elbow and rearing me back toward him. He steadied my
wobbly balance as my knees knocked into each other, practically giving out on me.
Oh god. The little screws in my head lagged, falling away from the complicated
clockwork of my thoughts. Look at me, he whispered, a light growl in his voice.
This was Alricks doing. Hed told him. The name Alex on the receipt suddenly made
sense. Jins insistence that I deliver the food felt like betrayal. My heart was going a
hundred miles a minute in my chest.
Look at me, he ordered, but I kept my gaze downcast, lacking both the energy and
the will to look him in the eye. I have to go, I wanted to say, even with no moisture
aiding my tongue. The balmy touch slid down the length of my forearm, down to my
wrist. I felt a finger hook onto my glove and peel it back as the body beside me shifted
296

its weight. My eyes were locked onto the floor, just beside his black shiny shoes, where I
saw the tailored hedge of his suit pants. Navy blue, thin grey stripes. Some things never
changed.
My arm bent upward without my permission, led by hands that didnt belong to me.
The protection of cloth quickly slid off my palm as my wrist was rotated in a gesture I
didnt immediately understand. Familiar, soft warmth brushed against the pads of my
hand, across the skin rubbed raw from hours of labor. I gasped at the contact as I
jerked my head up, falling right into the trap of his hazy eyes.
Youre one of the most stubborn people Ive ever met, Asher said as I hurriedly
pulled my hand away from his lips. I give you an easy way out and you take the hard
way in? he grinned crookedly.
I have to go, I mumbled, readjusting the glove bunched up along my fingers.
Why didnt you come to me?
I dont want you for your money. Wait, that wasnt right. I dont want your money, I
futilely corrected with an insistent shake of my head.
Is that right?
Yes, I hissed. Blood was rushing into my face again, embarrassment bearing down
on me. I had no idea why those words fell out of my lips, in that order. No, I didnt want
him for his money, but my choice of words clearly hinted that I wanted him for
something else. That wasnt true, I didnt want him. Not a lot. Not really.
Youve told Miss Anna otherwise. Shit, what did he just say? How did Anna come into
this conversation? I opened my mouth to deny his claim, but he continued talking.
She called to thank me for offering you such a great opportunity.
I pressed both eyes shut at the news, mentally kicking myself for forgetting that the two
were technologically connected. How that little detail slipped my mind, I didnt know. I
assumed Anna would be too busy to careor maybe I was too busy to worry. Maybe I
was just hoping everything would go back to how it was B.A. Before Asher. How long
have you known? I sighed.
Long enough, he answered confidently. I dont mind allowing this self discovery
phase. I scoffed at his words as his hand stretched out to grab onto my face, slanting
it up in his direction. I hesitantly avoided his eyes to peer at the door still hanging ajar
behind him. A thick cloud of smoke weaved itself over the unidentifiable background,
seeping out into the hallway. But Im afraid theres been a change of plans.

297

My eyes snapped to his face. Last time he said that, a suitcase exploded.
Ill be leaving the country for business. The trip is only a few days, but in the
meanwhile you will
No, I abruptly cut him off. Twisting my arm from his grip, I upturned my nose from the
inflow of smoke and tried to force distance between us.
Asher sighed heavily above me, sounding almost tired, but his monstrous grip didnt
loosen on my flesh any. I whined against the tightening grip when he tugged on my
arm again. Unfortunately, those I trust to watch over you are going to accompany
me on my trip, and at this point taking you along appears to be more dangerous than
leaving you behind unattended. The I didnt know what he was talking about. I
stopped listening halfway through to curiously peek into the apartment again. Who
was in there? I thought I heard someone speak. stay here.
What? I latched onto the last two words, arching one eyebrow at the stern
expression hovering over me. Im not staying, I have a job to
Correct. You have a job here. For security reasons, youll be spending your time at this
juncture. Miss Anna has already been informed. Your presence is required for he
trailed off, narrowing his gaze onto my face. Youre not listening to a word Im saying,
are you?
The corners of my lips creased up, becoming the first crack in the grin I tried
desperately to keep hidden. It occurred to me to be a bit upset that he could already
tell when I wasnt completely tuned in, but I found his irritated expression much too
amusing. He was too perceptive for my own good, and he knew exactly how to wipe
the grin off my face.
Lets try it this way, he began, bending down so that he directly at my eye level.
You dont have a choice in the matter, came the final verdict.
That got my attention. Wait a minute!
We tried that.
Im not going to
Tried that, too.
You cant just

298

This conversation is over, he announced. The grim tone in his voice promised his
statement to be truth.
No, no, this wasnt happening. Not again.
I already knew he was capable of locking me away; hed done it before. I knew he
had the mental illness and means to do so through personal experience. Saying no
was no longer an option, my fate was ready to be locked as soon as I stepped into the
ambiguous apartment. As I watched the last strings of my own life rip free of my hands,
I clawed out for one, any one, just to get some control back. I had to try maintaining
some sort of foundation for myself. I had to think fast.
Alright! Hold on, hold on! I called just as he reached back to the door. Giving me the
privilege of one last request, Asher turned to oblige; he waited. If I come to work for
you, theres gotta be some conditions. I put special emphasis on the word work. I
wasnt going to live there, or stay there, or die there. Just work.
The left corner of his lips twitched upward, signaling that he already knew his triumph
was in the near future. I resisted the surge of pride in me, furrowed my eyebrows
together and tried to keep my temper tamed. Yes? he humored me.
You have to stop lying to me.
Ive never lied to you, Muffin, he sounded offended.
Fine, then, you you have to tell me one thing about your secret life everyday, I
jumped at the opportunity.
Fair enough. Ill require the same condition from you.
Great, we were going to play a Ill show you mine if you show me yours game. The
thought instantly flickered my eyes down to his crotch, as a small voice reminded me
that Id never seen his. And you cant touch me without permission, I chipped in.
Then Ill expect you to be on your best behavior around me, he fired back. I arched
both eyebrows, not quite placing the meaning behind his request. That is, you are to
be polite, he clarified after a reluctant moment. Was that really what he meant?
I cant promise anything, I replied. It wasnt going to be an overnight thing for me.
Neither can I, he grinned mischievously. I must have been at a point of hysteria
because I smiled back. I even forgot about my other conditions. Shall we draw up the
papers?

299

I defensively pulled on my captured arm as I gave a shake of my head. I didnt want

to literally sign away my life anytime soon. Ill uh... take your word for it. You dont lie,
right? I paused, trying to recall if he really had lied to me before. I couldnt think of
anything. We can, uh, shake on it.
He gave me another startled look, seemingly caught off guard by my reaction. I didnt
know why. Sure, he agreed. Still holding on my arm, perhaps for safety measures,
Asher turned to extend his other hand out to me. When I slid my gloved palm into the
coven of his warm touch and his fingers wrapped around mine, I knew I didnt need a
signature to sign my life away.
Asher released my arm, but kept the handshake locked as he pulled me in toward
him. Fear crept up my legs, into my stomach, up to my chest. I had no idea what
awaited me inside the apartmentbesides smoke. Were others inside? Were we
alone? As he bent down to pick up the two bags of food, I dreadfully flexed my fingers
around his palm. No grins accompanied us on the way into the unknown.
The door creaked back to show a room filled with smoke, a table nearby, and three
people sitting around it. My first thought was that they had heard every word of the
conversation out on the hall. I didnt have any time to be humiliated though, I was
already putting names to faces.
Apparently, so were they.
Goomba?
Mario? I gaped.

300

He looked terrible.
With no gel smoothing his hair back, it fell in swirls around his face, down past his chin.
The inky strands did little in covering the scar creeping up the side of his neck, up
along his jaw line. I traced the obscure pattern with my eyes, to just below the cut of a
leather mask that ominously devoured half of his face; it curved artistically along the
lower segment of his cheek, up over the hollow of his eye socket before disappearing
behind thick curls on his forehead. I couldnt take my eyes off of him. He looked like a
badly modified Phantom of the Opera.
Vincenzo rocked back in his chair, seesawing the cigarette on the left corner of his lip
as his lone brown eye rolled over my attire. He pushed a gust of smoke in my direction,
momentarily distracting me from the faded burns I mindlessly counted on the flesh of
his arm. What the hell you lookin at?
My mouth slowly fell open, failing in every shape and form to prepare a proper
response. I noted the crutches leaning against the table behind him, the large white
cast wrapped around his leg from foot to thigh. He bent a set of cards in his hand
towards his body as his unmarked lips stretched back in a snarl. I finally regained
control of my eyes when he hissed a sharp Fuck! and reached out to a stack of red
chips to his right.
Hey kiddo, Alrick called gently, waving in my direction. I didnt return the greeting,
since I blamed him for my presence in the apartment. He sat at the head of the table,
to Vincenzos left, and across from the two sat a new person I didnt recognize. I
thought the empty chair closest to us was Ashers, but I was the one that occupied it
when the man still holding my hand led me over. Once I was seated, he finally
released me.
Egg rolls? the stranger asked, raising one hand towards the shadow standing behind
me. Smoke continued to flow into my lungs, erupting little coughs from my throat that I
futilely blocked with the palm of my hand.

301

Asher handed the delivered food out, two black bowls for Vincenzo, egg rolls for the
stranger, and one bowl for Alrick. I blinked down at the chips in front of me, the cards
turned upside down at the edge of the table. I was waiting for some sort of
explanation, maybe even a clue. No one else looked confused about this situation.
I... dont understand I said slowly. What exactly was I supposed to do here?
Hi, the stranger shifted in his seat, tilting himself into my line of sight; short blonde hair,
brown eyes. Names Daniel, he offered one hand to me.
I dont care, I replied crudely.
Ah he retracted his hand, I see what you meant, he mumbled to Alrick. I curled
my hands into fists in my lap as I glared first at the new guy, then at the German. He
gave me a sympathetic smile that I didnt quite appreciate.
What am I doing here? I kept my eyes fixed onto Alrick. He was the only safe bet
Vincenzo I would only gawk at, looking at Asher never did me any good, and the
Daniel dude I didnt care about. Alrick, on the other hand, usually gave me answers if
he could.
Its only for a few days, kiddo. Its for your own safety, so Vincenzo can look over
you.
I choked out a laugh as I pulled my hand up and extended one finger out towards the
Frankensteins monster on my left. The invalid is supposed to look over me?
As soon as Id spoken, I noticed a flicker from the side of the table. My eyes wandered
towards Mario, only to latch onto the rather identifiable barrel of a gun pointed to my
face. His thumb dangerously curved against the hammer, slowly rotating it back. Call
me an invalid one more time, he growled. Go on, I dare you.
There was no way he was going to shoot me in front of everyone. Inval I began,
just as a hand came down from overhead. It grabbed onto the barrel, pushing it down
toward the floor as its owner subtly nudged my chair. I pursed my lips together
stubbornly when Asher placed down a glass of water on the table in front of me.
Vincenzo growled at the silent command to back off, slammed the weapon down
onto the table and rocked dangerously in his chair.
Let me rephrase this Alrick resumed, Youll be looking over each other. Vincenzo
is here for your protection, and youre here to help him around the apartment.
I dont need protection. I scoffed childishly as I raised both arms, crossing them over
my chest. And Im not going to be his nurse.
302

No, youre going to be my bitch, Vincenzo hissed darkly.

Thats wishful thinking! By the looks of it, youve already been neutered, I snarled.
Trust me, that wont stop me from fucking you over.
Good to see you two get along so well, Daniel suddenly cut in. Pushing his chair
back, the new blonde wrapped up the remainder of his egg rolls and tossed his cards
face down on the table. Full house, he pointed down at the cards, then at
Vincenzo. Ill collect later.
The crazy Italian pulled his glare off me, with some effort, to glance at his supposed
friend. After a glance at his own hand, he cursed and slammed his cards down. You
cheated!
It was nice to finally meet you, Daniel nodded in my direction. Did that mean theyd
been talking about me? Following his lead, Alrick stood as well, abandoning their
game of poker. I turned in my chair to glance at the new guy as he fetched
something from his pocket and handed it off to Asher. We should get going, came a
discrete whisper.
I glanced back across the table, to Alrick putting his jacket on in preparation of his
departure. An unexpected wave of smoke streamed into my nostrils, lancing down my
throat and causing small spasms out of my lungs. I immediately searched for the
culpritthe only one still smoking. Do you have to do that? I grunted at him.
Mario took another turn at the butt of his cigarette, twisted his lips into a small grin and
exhaled the toxic fume into my face. No, he answered. His mouth puckered into a
small O, imitating the rings of smoke that soon followed, pumping in my direction one
by one. I smashed one fist down on the tabletop as I pushed myself up to my feet,
almost sending my chair toppling over.
I cant stay here! I wailed at Asher.
The other two men slid out of the apartment while the pack leader approached me.
Placing both hands on my shoulders, Asher tilted my weight closer to him, allowing me
to pick up his scent past the stench of the cigarettes. Oaky. Sweet. I resisted closing
my eyes when one of his hands glided up to stroke the inside of my neck, just above
my collarbone. Just a few days, he reminded me. Then you can go back to
pretending you never met me. I studied his lips for a grin, even though I knew I
wouldnt get one with a wide audience.

303

Why do I need protection? I chewed down on my lower lip. Ive been fine,
nothings happened. No one even knows who I am.
His hand gave a possessive squeeze to my throat before slipping away. On the
contrary, Im afraid many are aware of your identity, he informed calmly, like it was
something I should have already known. I dug my teeth deeper into my lower lip while
he removed his other hand from my shoulder. I have some details to sort before our
departure, but Ill be back later tonight.
I heard Vincenzo scoff behind me, easily reminding me of his presence.
Stay safe, Asher ordered. Patting lightly at my arm, he turned to join the others
lingering in the hallway.
Take good care of Vincenzo for us! Alrick called. Mario and I both growled at the
open door, damning the chipper German to hell. Neither one of us came up with
anything clever to say before the door closed behind Asher.
The locked clicked into place.
This is bullshit, I hissed.
Mannaggia la maloraccia I didnt ask for this. Just stay out of my way, my implied
roommate remarked nastily. The back of my throat once again itched from the
continuous onslaught of smoke invading my lungs; I had to give a few coughs just to
lessen the feeling, but by no means did I erase the sensation. I strolled a large circle
around the table, so I wouldnt look at the wounded monster, and stretched my
fingers out to the closest window. The latch easily gave away beneath my touch,
snapping back with a limited amount of pressure.
Clean air whooshed into the apartment, battling the thick cloud of smoke as I caught
a fresh amount with a deep inhale. I yanked the drapes aside to let in the sun, faintly
hoping the bright rays would destroy the creature of darkness I knew still occupied the
seat behind me. To my utter delight, he gave a hiss and knocked one dull object
against another. Most likely his fist against the table.
Close the window! he objected.
No, I replied simply enough. The curtains remained caught in my fingers as I peered
down to the street, watching three familiar bodies merge into the general public and
secede back out mere moments later, to a dark green car parked across the road.
Asher sat in the back, Daniel in the front. Alrick drove.
Cacazzo!
304

The cars backlights flamed, signaling that it was about to reverse. I watched the
vehicle slowly withdraw from its parallel parking, quietly push into the slowed traffic,
and disappear down the street. Im leaving, I announced as soon as they were out
of sight.
The fuck you are, he grunted.
I defied enough figures of authority in the past to disregard his dangerous tone without
so much as an inch of hesitation. I couldnt, however, disregard the painful grip that
locked onto my wrist when I turned to stroll past him. He jerked so violently on my arm
that I lost my equilibrium; my free hand had to dash out to smack against the edge of
the wooden table in order to correct my footing. In the blur of an instant, the black
gun was cocked and poised once again towards my face.
With no Asher to protect me, my confidence drastically dropped. The scarred invalid
pushed the barrel up until it jabbed against my chin, knocking the cold material of the
weapon audibly against my bone. I swallowed noticeably as the solid ring printed its
outline into my skin; it pressed so insistently against my face that I started listening for a
crack from my jawbone.
The presumably loaded gun scared the shit out of me, yes, but a crazed voice in the
back of my head assured that he wouldnt kill me, not with his boss so dead set on
keeping me alive. The hold on my wrist didnt allow for any twisting, so I reached
forward with my other hand to grab onto his relentless fingers and pry them aside.
Youre not going to kill me, I assumed dangerously. Youre supposed to protect
me.
Right. And Im not going to take the blame for you tripping over some curb and
breaking your fucking hollow head, got it? he snapped. A tug on my wrist drove the
gun up into the indentation of my cheek and bent my knees, bringing me down closer
to his level. Plus, I dont need to kill you to horrifically maim you. One bullet in your
kneecap and you wont be going anywhere. I grunted at his comment as I tilted my
head as far as my neck could crane, just to get the gun out of my cheek. We both
know no one would doubt me if I told them you gave me trouble. That maybe you
even reached for the gun. I had to wrestle it out of your grasp, for your own safety. It
just went off. I dont know what happened.
My eyes widened. He wouldnt! ... would he?
Like I said before, youre going to be my bitch as long as youre here. Youll do as I
say, when I say it, or Ill permanently cripple you for the rest of your miserable life,
Vincenzo paused, raising his gun to smack its mass against the side of my head. I

305

yelped at the impact, ducked my head down, and covered my temple with my free
hand. Do we understand each other?
I glared at him through half-lidded eyes, my expression still twisted into a pained
wince. His anger no longer proved to be amusement for me; first of all, the threats in
the past were never really demonstrated. He tried to hit me, but no harm ever came
my way, so I didnt think twice about pushing my luck. I should have quit while I was
ahead; kneeling at his mercy didnt exactly encourage growth in my bratty intrigue.
Hesitantly, I gave a nod to signal that I understood.
Good, he said gruffly. I breathed a light sigh of relief when the gun migrated back to
his lap, but his hand didnt release me. He tugged on my arm, pulling me closer to the
edge of the table. Now clean this up, he signaled to the surface.
Wha
Use your hands, he instructed.
I eyed the contents of the table; poker chips, beer bottles, playing cards, two ashtrays
and the bowls of food I just delivered. My fingers wrapped around the edges of the
ashtray closest to me, reluctantly picking it up along with two empty bottles. The
mental image of breaking the blunt objects over Marios head repeatedly occurred to
me, but I knew his honed reflexes would stop me even when hindered.
My temple throbbed as I carried the items over to the kitchen counter; the pain
shoved little dark thoughts into my brain. I could have killed the brute. Waited until he
was asleep, slipped rat poison into his food, snuffed him out with a pillow. Okay so I
was lying to myself, I knew perfectly well I wasnt capable of taking a life. I could
dream, though. He was going to pay for manhandling me.
A soft clatter and curse drew my attention to the table behind me. I forced a harsh
burst of air through my lips as I turned to face the annoying son of a bitch.
In the lapse of a blink, everything changed.
Pity overtook me the moment I saw him helpless. He stood with one crutch under his
arm, the other sprawled beneath the table. His good foot tried edging the object out,
but his cast didnt let him bend or achieve any sort of leverage. Vincenzo tried
balancing himself against the back of the chair to use his other crutch as a hook, a
feat difficult on its own, and the more he tried to pick it up on his own, the more
difficult it became.
I could have walked out then, chances of him shooting me while incapacitated were
low. But stupid me, I walked over to the cripple and picked his crutch up for him. He
306

gave me an angry snarl as he jerked it out of my hand, shoving it under his arm and
twisting away from me. My eyes immediately went down to his gun, left behind on the
edge of the table with no extra hands to carry it. I reached out to touch it, tracing the
length with my index fingers tip, stroking down to the brittle texture of the handle. My
fingers arched forward, dipping beneath the steel to pick it up.
It was heavy.
Heavier than I thought, and cold, like the paperweight we made out of bricks, paint
and stickers in Mrs. Freedmons third grade class. Using the gun didnt occur to me.
Thoughts of revenge had already dissipated. I carried the gun over to its owner, where
he sat on the right side of the couch, and dropped it into his lap, returning his only
sense of power back to him.
There was a moment of understanding when he glanced up at me; I saw it, the
vulnerability he wanted so desperately to conceal. Regardless of his sour personality,
the angry Italian was lashing out because he couldnt stand the pity I was already
prepared to give him. He didnt like being weak. I understood that. I saw his pride and
I knew he was going to make my life hell so that I wouldnt recognize when he asked
for helpafter all, I would have done the same. Talk about unlikely similarities.
At the same time, guilt gnawed away at me. An irritating little voice poked at the
back of my brain, insisting that if it werent for me, he wouldnt have ended up this
way. The explosion might not have happened prematurely if I just stayed in the boat.
What are you looking at? I said go clean up! he shattered the small comfortable
moment of silence. Reclaiming the gun I provided him, he swung the weapon up
towards me and cocked it again. This time, his action didnt draw the desired result. I
wasnt scared.
His reign of terror was short lived.
Right, I mumbled.
Vincenzo turned on the television while I went back to the table. Out of curiosity, I
flipped Ashers hand over to survey the cards. Straight flush. Why wasnt I surprised? I
gathered up the deck, washed out the ashtray, threw away the bottles, and put away
the food. Ironically, I ended up being Ashers butler after all.
The housewife aspect didnt appeal to me, but strangely enough I didnt mind helping
out. Of course I would make sure to groan and bitch about it later. For now, I played
along. In all reality I was babysitting Vincenzo and he was babysitting meif anyone
came barreling into the apartment, I could run away screaming while the mutant shot
them. Yes, even in his current state, I was sure Vincenzo could go Rambo and kill any
307

assailants, even if he couldnt walk across the room without his crutches. Who was I to
judge, though? It seemed like the ongoing case of bipolarity was rubbing off on me.
I felt bad for him.
It must have sucked, to have to dependent on a stupid teenager you hated for every
day things. It must have sucked being helpless in general. I wondered, did I have to
help him go to the bathroom? Bathe him? What did he do before I was recruited?
Nurses, probably, or his buddy Alrick. Though somehow imagining Alrick helping
Vincenzo bathe didnt exactly fit.
GOOMBA! the menace called.
I glanced up to catch the faint outline of his reflection in the television screen. When a
commercial blurred out the lines, I refocused my eyes onto the dark curls on the back
of his head. What?
Make me something to eat.
Fucker, he was already pushing his luck. I just delivered ten pounds of Chinese food, I
pointed out angrily.
Im not in the mood for Chinese. Make me something else.
I stretched both hands up to rub at my face, burying my nose against my gloves as I
exhaled sharply. No, I wasnt going to let him get to me. I felt bad for him. I wasnt
going to get angry. He was just a pathetic gimp. I cant cook. Make it yourself.
Dont you work at a fucking diner? Mario asked, twisting his torso to glimpse over the
back of the couch.
Restaurant. And I dont cook there, I paused thoughtfully, giving a small lick to my
lower lip. If you want a dessert, Ill consider it. Food, youre on your own.
What kind of dessert? he arched an eyebrow.
Muffins, I shrugged. And cinnamon rolls, and cookies. All the things I liked to eat
myself. Apple Muffins were the first kind I ever madebut I wasnt going to make them
for him. One, I doubted the ingredients were available, and two, I doubted he wanted
anything sugary or sweet.
Ugh, he grunted, proving me right. A twist back to the television later, he began
pointlessly trolling through the channels. Should have known, you really are as useless
as you look.
308

Let me guess, you want some greasy pasta? I grinned teasingly.

Shut the fuck up.
I shrugged at his hostility, finding it easier to ignore when I understood it. Well, not
exactly understood, more like emphasized with.
Is there a phone here? I asked.
No, and no, you cant use my cell phone. Call your pimp another time.
I tried not to picture Asher in a stereotypical pimp outfit. Fuck, I wasnt going to call
him anyway. I was actually going to call work, and Anna, Theyll probably be
wondering where I
Taken care of. Now stop flapping that annoying mouth and let me watch my show,
he said as he changed the channel. Fucker. Fine, I wasnt going to argue with him.
Content in his own little world, Vincenzo proceeded to disregard my presence. I
glanced wearily around the apartment one more time; was I really thinking of staying
here? With Mario, of all people.
Guilt was a powerful emotion.
Cold air unearthed my hair, pushing the layered strings of black into my face as I
turned to survey the window. I could see the train tracks from where I stood. No train. A
burst of air rippled the curtains to the right, pointing like red arrows directing traffic.
After a quick glance to Mario, I quickly turned to follow the silent call of curiosity. It
tugged me through the hallway straight to one door on the left, two doors on the right,
and a lone one directly at the end. The first door on the right had a yellow post-it
attached to it.
I reached out to snatch the note, holding it up to skim the fine print. Your room, it read.
I frowned at the implied information. My room, eh? It really pissed me off how Asher
automatically knew he was going to get his way. He knew I would stay, he knew I
would walk down this hallway and find the note. He knew too much.
The door quietly opened beneath my touch. I let it swing back on its own accord so
any surprises would be pinpointed ahead of time. Beside a dresser and a Queen-sized
bed, nothing occupied the room. It was vast and empty. Original, I snickered to
myself. As quickly as Id spoken, I felt the desire to invade Vincenzos room. He lived
here, right? His room was probably far from original.

309

My weight rolled onto the balls of my feet so I could slant my torso back; first to glance
at the living room, then to the closed door at the end of the hallway. Master bedroom
had to be his.
With the post-it in hand, I ventured toward the second door on the right side of the
hallway, the one adjacent to mine. I nudged this door open without stepping in as
well, perfectly paranoid. Not a bedroom, I soon found out. A bathroom. An ordinary
one, with another obvious post-it on the mirror. What the hell? I felt like a kid being led
through a maze, looking for some hidden treasure.
My dirty converse squeaked on the tiled floor on the way in. I paused a step short of
the sink to lean forward and read the second clue; Shower. It was a command.
Fucker, I huffed to myself while my right hand dashed out to snatch the yellow
square off the reflective surface. On the closed toilet seat lid, two snow-white towels
waited for me. I sneered childishly at the toothbrush placed gingerly on top. Fuck him,
I was clean.
Exploration continued out of the bathroom, to the room I originally wanted to infest;
the master bedroom. Another surge of paranoia in my chest drove me to look over my
shoulder, just to check that Vincenzo wasnt there. The television still brattled on and
although I couldnt see him, I assumed he was watching it from his spot on the couch.
Like an uninvited, nosy neighbor, I opened the door; a grand bed lined the right wall,
wooden frame, clean white sheets. Twin, large windows devoured the left side of the
room, white curtains, and a plain grey rug decorating the center. One dresser, two
bookshelves, a beautiful black and white photograph of a broken bridge nailed to
one wall. Nothing extraterrestrial. I wasnt sure what I expected to see. Bombs,
perhaps. Bullets, guns, just lying out in crates all over the floor.
GOOMBA!
I practically jumped out of my skin. The bedrooms handle rattled beneath my hand as
I pivoted my hips back, dashing out of the room so fast that the door slammed shut
behind me. Loud.
Shit.
GOOMBA!!
My footsteps rhythmically rushed down the hallway. I was seven again, running out of
my dads library when I heard someone coming up the stairs because I knew I wasnt
supposed to be in there. The soles of my shoes skidded against the wooden floor as I
smacked my hand against the doorframe, anchoring myself against the corner before
I collided against the chairs. What? I panted.

310

He was still sitting on the couch, his back to me. Get me a beer.
My jaw dropped.
Today would be nice, he snapped his fingers.
I swallowed my snide remarks and projected my body towards the refrigerator. As
soon as the white door opened, my eyes locked onto yet another post-it. Turkey, this
one read, hanging off a sandwich choked in saran wrap. I reached past it to a bottle
of beer in the back. A turkey sandwich? Why? I rolled the bottleneck against my palm,
holding it tight while my mind wandered back in time for hopes of a clue. Of all things,
why turkey? Hed even gone out of his way to label it for me. Had I told Asher I liked
turkey?
Here, I dropped the cold bottle into Marios lap.
A grunt came in appreciation of my obedience. Slanting his upper body against the
couch arm, Vincenzo angled the glass against the metal screw of one of his crutches
and slammed his fist down against the shaft. The cap popped off and danced to the
floor. So I heard you got Michael fired.
I didnt see that coming.
Was he your friend? My stomach churned, aching with the ghost of my injuries.
Fuck no, he chugged the beer. It fizzed against the bottle, sloshed against his lips,
then slid back to the bottom. I hated that psycho. Somehow, hearing Vincenzo call
Michael a psycho brought a smile to my lips. Irony at its finest. And I guess your little
stunt brought the well deserved fates down on his head. They found out that the
fucker was running his own little operation under Picketts nose. I would have loved to
been there when he found out, he grinned to himself as he sipped at his alcohol
again.
I wasnt sure why he was telling me any of this. Maybe he felt lonely. Maybe it was like
talking to the household pet; just spurting facts and details that didnt matter while the
dog tilted its head and panted. Pathetically, this dog was interested.
So what happened to him? I asked.
The only visible brown eye rolled up in its socket, surveying me while the skull tilted
back against the cushion of the couch. I caught myself staring at his face again, at
the discoloration on his neck, leading all the way down the cut of his shirt. Coward
ran off. The leather mask did little in actually covering the vine-like scars that
disrupted the smoothness of his skin when he spoke. His chin stretched his face down
311

while the mask remained in place; the resulting effect was rather dazzling, like
seaweed disappearing into ocean waves. In, out, in out.
Whered he go? I egged him on.
Who the fuck cares? He isnt here anymore. Out of the country, since they havent
caught him yet.
Tension melted away from my shoulders. Having one less person that wanted me
dead, especially since I was sure it was the only person that wanted me dead, did
miracles for my stress levels. I sighed to myself as I strolled around to the other side of
the couch and plopped into the cushions. They were actually very comfortable, I even
dared to lean back and close my eyes.
Who said you could sit down? Vincenzo grumbled.
Pretend Im giving a damn about what you think right now, I braved a response.
How about I smash your face in? I dont think even Pickett would mind if your jaws
were wired shut for a few weeks. He probably doesnt use your mouth anyway.
My eyes flashed opened at the suggestion, rather explicit thoughts falling together like
unbalanced Jenga pieces. That was a sexual comment, right? I wasnt imagining that,
was I? When I made eye contact with Vincenzo, I knew it was true. I blushed like a red
tomato. If he hadnt known about Asher and I before, he did now. My embarrassment
was a flashing neon sign.
Im going to be the mature one and walk away from this conversation, I huffed
angrily. Marios lips stretched into a triumphant grin as I peeled myself off the couch,
retreating to the bedroom chosen for me by the portentous post-it.
Thats what I thought, I heard him say.
Relaxing in solitude in a room he couldnt enter without difficulty suddenly seemed
logical. I dove for the untouched bed after closing the door behind me. The expensive
mattress didnt even creak under my weight; it was one of those Nasa memory foams,
the one that molds itself to the body. The rumors were true, I felt like I was on a cloud. I
kicked my shoes and socks off, peeled my gloves off my hands, then wrapped my
arms around the pillow to draw it into my face. The original plan wasnt to take a
napnot that I really had a plan to begin with but after lying there for a few
minutes, I was out.
Images flickered in and out of my twisted head, progressively growing darker. Not
much lingered, nightmares were routine. I relived moments I kept locked away during
312

consciousness and became a victim to realities I tried to avoid even in my dreams. I

could never escape here.
When I was six years old, I found a baby bird in our backyard that had fallen out of its
nest. Mom told me not to touch it, that if I got my scent on it then its mother wouldnt
reclaim it. That bird chirped madness outside for what felt like hours. I watched it
through my bedroom window, aching miserably to just go out and pluck it from the
grass. I wanted to wrap it in a blanket and keep it warm. It sounded so lonely, so
scared.
But I didnt go. I didnt want its mother to abandon it, not because of me.
And an hour later, the neighbors cat devoured it. Ill never forget how instead of
running to the birds rescue, I sat frozen behind the glass and watched the orange
felines back arch before its final leap. Ill never forget the sounds that came out of
both the prey and the predator, or the painful silence that followed.
Later that week, Mom read me the story of Red Riding Hood. I burst into tears the
moment the wolf gobbled up ol Red and she immediately put the book away. I never
found out that the wolf ate the grandmother, or that the hunter came to their rescue,
until six years later when Anna bought me a thick volume of fairytales. I was much too
cynical by then to accept the story, I knew the truth; the hunter didnt come, Red
wasnt rescued, and the bird died.
People always died.
There was no such thing as a happy ending. One minute the perfect family could be
driving down the road, in their perfect car with their perfect happiness, off onto their
yearly, perfect vacationand it would only take one little imperfection for it all to
implode into complete chaos; a deflating tire, a dip in the road, moisture left by rain
from the night before. It only took one imperfection. One. Then laughs would turn into
screams, cries of mercy, cries for help, the beautiful countryside would meld into a
mess of flailing hands, reaching fingers and tussled hair disrupted in the panic of
struggles. People would turn into memories and memories into nightmares.
Always into nightmares.
I woke up panting up a storm. My body lay twisted diagonally over the memory foam,
one leg hanging off the edge of the bed and the other tucked beneath me. Both of
my hands were clutching at the sheets like I could have squeezed the nectar of the
gods from their very surface if I tightened my grip any further. Sweat slicked the fabric
of my clothing tight against my skin, reminding me bitterly of the nightmare that had
my blood pumping into my ears. Darkness didnt let my eyes focus on anything. For a

313

moment, I thought I was back at my own house, in my own bed, with my parents just
down the hallway.
I was too old to be lying to myself.
The flashes of my blurred nightmare slowly dissolved, one detail clashing into another
with each breath I inhaled. Within seconds, I forgot almost everything Id seenbut
the feeling remained.
I chucked my body off the closest edge, rolling down to the floor as my eyes slowly
adjusted to the lack of light. No windows in this room. Where was I? Chills reminded me
of the moisture buttered on my skin, the dampness pinning my hair against my
forehead. My knees trembled beneath my weight with every step I took. The mushiness
of my brain threatened to thaw out of my ears. I needed an inch of familiarity,
something to prove to myself that I was awake and no longer in the perfect little car.
The shiver that rattled my bones wasnt enough.
Faint light spilled in the form of a thin line caught my eyes. I staggered forward to what
I thought was a wall, only to find a door when the doorknob jabbed against my
stomach. My sweaty fingers barely maintained friction when I twisted the damn thing
to open the barrier. Confusion ensued. What moonlight fell into my line of sight only
showed me a hallway, nothing elsenothing but a door directly in front of me, the
bright light of a lamp spilling from beneath the crack. Where was I?
I stood still for several seconds while my memories caught up with my body. Vincenzo.
Apartment. Nap. Right. Not home. Not Anna. No bird?
Mario? I choked miserably as I flung my body forward, not down the hall to the
master bedroom, but to the only door on the left side of the hallway. The only room I
hadnt ventured into before. I didnt care if he was busy; I wanted a familiar face, just
a link back to the real world, something to ground me again.
I got what I wanted.
In what was obviously a room transformed into an office, sat my very own Asher
Pickett. He glanced up the moment I barged into the room, not an inch of surprise on
his pleasant face. His attire consisted of a dress shirt, both sleeves rolled up, no jacket
and no tie. A glass of bourbon tilted in his left hand, moving away from the folder of
papers sitting directly in front of him. The pen in his grip paused mid-stroke, losing its
focus when the grey eyes locked onto my face. I followed every slight movement like
it was the flap of a dying butterflys wing, beautiful but painful to watch. He slowly
leaned back in his chair and lowered his drink to the table. Nightmare? he asked.

314

I phased into the office with two unsteady steps. The door creaked and clicked shut
beneath my swaying weight when I pushed my back against the surface, my hands
twisted behind me, still clutching at the handle.
Come, he suggested. His body rotated out from under the desk, straight toward me,
as the chair rolled delicately on its wheels to allow the movement. Three wheels on the
chair. Two handles. One seat. No car.
I rolled my body off of the door, concentrating on just one foot in front of the other.
Asher waited patiently for me to find my way to the other side of the room, his eyes
carefully watching me. I didnt doubt for a second that if I tripped, he would have
caught me. Yet I wasnt quite sure why I was approaching him, what did he have to
offer? I already knew where I was, and that I wasnt dreaming anymore. I knew better,
but what I felt
I stopped short of brushing against his knees. After lingering perhaps a bit longer than
necessary in the silence, Asher picked up his right hand and angled it towards my
stomach. His fingers hovered just inches away from my shirt, firm and confident in the
action they wanted to takebut he still paused to ask, May I?
Both my eyes still felt heavy with sleep; I couldnt blink the haze away. May he what?
My thoughts lagged again, falling one piece at a time, a pond slowly filled up with
each bucket load. I hated the pulse of my heart in my ears, it didnt let me think
straight. Maybe he could make it go away, maybe he knew how. I redirected my eyes
from his poised hand back to his face, then nodded.
Immediately, I sucked my breath in to hollow out my stomach. His cold fingers felt like
ice against my overheated skin; they dipped in under my shirt, up the pathetic lack of
definition in my abdomen, and paused purposely on my chest. My heart ran races
against the pads of his hand, perfectly tangible past the barrier of my ribcage. He
listened, and I counted the lapses of the distraught organ. One, two, three, four, five,
six, seven, eight, nine. His hand slicked down, arching around the contour of my torso
to dip into the indentation of my spine. Asher followed the grooves of my backbone,
all the way down to the small of my back, perhaps counting them as I did. One, two,
three, four, five, six
A careless jerk forward almost had me colliding into him, but his other hand dashed
out to steady me before my trembling knees completely melted. It ran down the back
of my leg, picking up the limb as he continued to lead me forward, maneuvering my
body to fit perfectly in the warmth of his lap. I had to grab the edges of his backrest
and straddle his legs to keep from slipping to the floorhe didnt seem to mind, in fact
he readjusted his weight to allow me room. Both my legs slid down to knock against
the chairs handles.

315

I was the white cat in Dr. Evils lap.

At least he pet me like one. His hand stroked my spine again, drawing me closer
against him. The light tremor in my fingers calmed beneath his undivided attention,
falling another level the longer he allowed silence to settle into my brain. Slowly, my
eyes sank shut over the burning sensation of my eyeballs. I listened to the rhythm of his
breath, to the sound of my own pulse subsiding from my ears back to my wrists, where
it belonged. The peacefulness of sleep called to me again; I might have fallen
unconscious in his lap if I didnt feel the invading presence of hot air against my
mouth.
My eyelids inched open to glance down the curve of my cheeks, to the face hovering
mere inches away from me. His mouth looked so inviting, lips parted, only a small
glimpse of his front two teeth winking up at me when he exhaled. His breath tempted
me, the subtle tilt of his head hinted at it, but he didnt move into action. Any minute
now, I fully expected him to kiss me. Beneath the comfort of my shirt, Ashers hand had
stopped moving all together. Awkwardly long seconds ticked by, but no kiss came. He
patiently looked up at me, like he was waiting waiting for what?
Waiting for me.
As soon as my groggy brain connected the dots, I lowered my head closer to him. Our
lips touched, with no help from him, and he still didnt respond. For a second, I thought
I read the signs wrong, that maybe he didnt want to kiss mebut when I moved my
lips against his I felt the opposing thin muscles stretch back into a grin. He was doing it
on purpose, he was always doing everything on purpose; he wanted me to take the
initiative, not only to start the kiss but to continue it. I humored him, ignoring the sting of
his amusement to suckle on his mouth.
They were colder than mine, most likely from the ice in his drink, and tasted like
alcohol, but sweet, like honey. Not bourbon. I flexed my fingers against the leather of
his chair as the hand resting against my skin began to pet up my spine yet again; it
paused against my shoulder blades, pressing down on the muscles to hunch my body
closer. The slick of his tongue didnt annoy me for once; it was comforting and warm
like everything else about him. Before long the movement of his mouth mesmerized
me, a simple up and down motion that compelled me to nurse like a hungry newborn.
He never pulled away, if breath was necessary then I was the one that broke the
embrace for an intake of air while he remained quietly patient, waiting.
I unlatched my fingers from the back of the chair to glide my touch against his skin,
above the cut of his crisp dress shirt. I hadnt touched him before, I realized. Not really,
not like this. Newly motivated, I drifted my fingertips to his collar, flickering my thumb
against the buttons to slowly undo them. Again, I felt a grin stretch away the flesh I
kissed, but I forced myself to ignore it. The lack of a tie let me open the front of his shirt
316

without resistance, splitting the soft material all the way down his navel. When I
reached out to flatten my palm against his chest, Asher pulled back.
Did I do something wrong? No, he was only returning the favor. His hands moved
down to the bottom of my shirt, grabbing onto the cloth and dragging it up until the
fabric turned inside out, flicking off my head. The drying sweat on my skin didnt
appreciate the onslaught of cold air, but I wasnt complaining. My eyes fixated onto
the present Id opened up, to the perfectly pale shade of his skin; in the angled light of
the table lamp, I counted three faded scars on his chest and a large one in his lower
abdomen. That was where he was stabbed, wasnt it? Curiosity compelled me to
reach down into the shirt still held against his stomach with two remaining buttons, to
touch the ripple in the skin. Asher easily stopped me by grabbing my neck to lead me
back into the kiss.
The chair rolled back gently, knocking against the windowsill with a soft thud. The
fingers locked behind my neck squeezed down on either side, luring me deeper into
the fishnets grasp. Every touch pulled me deeper; and yet I was perfectly aware.
Sleep didnt hinder my thoughts any more. I knew he was taking advantage of my
weakness, but it didnt matter, because I was taking advantage of his presence. I
knew what I was doing. I knew the consequences of my actions though that didnt
mean I understood them. Not then, not in that moment, I never would have imagined
how far Id fall.
Ashers free hand gradually migrated from the armrest to our conjoined laps. He kept
me accurately busy while he fingered the front of my pants open, one button at a
time. I expected his hand to dip into my boxers, and they did, but it wasnt the front he
was afterhis hand stroked along the waistband, straight to my ass, where he
shamelessly folded both layers of fabric down to just beneath my thighs. I rocked my
weight forward when the warmth progressively left my stripped skin, whilst the
stretched material of my pants dug into my skin.
It wasnt uncomfortable, the cloth was flexible enough to allow for some movement,
but they were still incorrectly angled with my pseudo spread eagle position. As soon as
my buttocks were out for the taking, Asher recoiled his touch. I curiously withdrew from
the kiss to watch his hand retreat to the third drawer of his desk and pull it open.
Emerging from its depths was none other than a bottle of clear liquid with the
recognizable label of KY.
The hand on my neck jerked, prompting me to continue what Id paused. Reluctantly,
my eyes returned to him, but my ears focused solely on the light pop of the bottles
cap and the slosh that came from its discharge ofsomething warm, I soon found out,
because it was lathered all over his fingers. Two dipped into an angle that should have
been uncomfortable, though somehow the movement proved to be smooth when
the fingertips brushed against my sphincter.
317

What are you doing? I finally spoke. My voice, just as I feared, was not to be trusted.
It cracked and withered into a croak, failing in the pits of my dried throat.
What I should have done the first time, he explained, and with his words came an
intruding finger. His index? I reflexively tensed around the trespasser, clamping down
before more than an inch decided to visit. Relax, he offered.
I immediately scowled at the advice. Easier said than done. I bet he never had
anything shoved up his Oh shit, I gasped as he twisted the digit, rubbing the
textured pads of his fingerprint against nerves I never knew I had. The finger was much
smaller than his penis, so why the hell was it much harder for me to relax against it? I
instinctively scooted my legs back to remove myself from his knees, but he tightened
the grip on my neck and secured me to his lap.
Shhh, he cooed.
Grinning from his position, Asher relaxed his head back against his expensive chair
while I needlessly dug my fingers into his shoulders. When I gave him an inch, he took it,
accurately exploiting every moment of relaxation to slip in more of the lubricated
mass. The finger thrusts started out shallow, then slowly moved deeper, working a
sense of calm into me as his other hand moved from my waist to once again rub at
my back.
He worked the sensitive nerves around my anus professionally, not bothering to even
lift his head off the chair when he prodded at my tensed entrance with a second digit.
I gasped audibly as both fingers moved in large circles following the inner walls of my
rectum, massaging the warm lubrication into the flesh. My cock jerked upward as soon
as his finger gained enough depth to access the same button that had weakened me
with pleasure before. I dug my nails into his shoulders and my knees reflexively hugged
his thighs.
The entire time, he watched, constantly studying my expression. No questions
necessary. Do you like it? came in the form of a harder thrust; Does it hurt? was a
proportioned pause. All he had to do was observe my reactions for his answers, which
was fine at first.
There was a voyeuristic tint in the way he watched me; it made me uncomfortable. As
he settled into a steady rhythm with the thrusting of his fingers, I found that he
specifically targeted the reactions he wanted to see. After pulling in and out a few
times, he would curl his fingers toward my belly button and rub his middle finger in
small circles around a hidden latch only he knew about. The gauged pressure made
my prick weep every time. I pathetically moaned in response.

318

Shamed by my own feedback, both verbal and visible, I dipped my face down into
the curvature of his throat, pressing my lips down into his shoulder as my fingers inched
back to allow me room. The vibrations of his chuckle teased my ear, easily informing
me of his amusement while my embarrassment chipped away at my pride. Pride?
What was pride? I was putty in his hands.
When did that happen?
In a half-assed attempt to drag him down with me, I tried to think of what Id done
before to make him lose his cool. Licking lips was out of the question, if I voluntarily
opened my mouth I didnt know what would come out. Instead, I stretched my right
hand up to the side of his neck, hooked my nails against the skin and raked my fingers
down. Scratching had worked before.
Ashers petting hand paused its touch along my spine, but that was the extent of his
losing control. Failure had never been so rewarding; the slick digits inside of me
picked up speed in what I could only translate to be retribution for my attempt at
sabotage. I whimpered at the increased friction as my hips humped my arousal
against a confined bulge just inches away. He was as stimulated as I was, I knew
without looking, yet he insisted on stubbornly torturing me with a supposedly skipped
lesson.
I might have gotten off on just his fingers, but he dropped to an achingly slow pace
and dared to add an uncomfortable third digit. My legs were already prickling with
sleep, sore and dead from twisting in such an awkward position for so long. The taut
fabric of my pants left an imprint on my skin and my body screamed for me to
reposition myself, to return the blood flow back to my limbs appropriately.
I clawed at the side of his neck again. Nothing, not even a flinch.
The hot breath on the surface of my shoulder weaved a dangerous thought into my
steadily despairing brain. Cautiously peeling my lips off the soft fabric of his shirt, I
rotated my head toward the side of Ashers face. The pompous smirk I glimpsed from
the corner of my eye was the perfect incentive for me to overstep my hesitation. With
his fingers still leisurely tormenting me, I gingerly stole his earlobe into the coven of my
lips and suckled the flesh. Glee filled me the moment I heard a surprised, throaty gasp
tip past his lips.
Thats right, two could play this game.
Just as he gave an instinctive tilt of his head, I raised my hand up from his neck to
greedily grab at his face. My tongue eagerly grazed the supple tissue, stroking up as
my lips swept down.

319

Muffin, he warned tersely.

I moaned in response, if only to tease him with the same vibrations he gave me
before. My hand coddled his face as I willingly smothered his ear, lavishing the lobe
with small licks.
Muffin, his grip threatened to crush my neck.
I didnt care. I even took things a step further; I bit down.
I was suddenly off his lap, my feet dangling hazardously beneath me a few frightening
seconds before my back smacked against a hard surface. The blur of colors and the
light collision of my skull against solidity momentarily stunned me. A groan crawled up
my throat as I reached up to rub at the back of my head, trying to knead the
throbbing out from the roots of my hair. Two quick jerks on my pants had my eyes flying
up, to the man stripping me of my last layers of clothing. He casually cleaned his
fingers on the fabric of my boxers before tossing them to the floor.
And I was on his desk.
There wasnt a grand sweep of the surface, papers didnt go flying and lamps didnt
topple over. No, every little bump and groove remained on the wooden surface,
poking into my skin as I arched uncomfortably across the width.
Defiant brat, Asher hissed under his breath. He grabbed onto my legs, both aching
with pins and needles while he unceremoniously parted them to allow himself
passage.
I grinned at my own small victory as my other hand moved to pan out against the
spray of light that angled right onto me. The lamps orange glow managed to
prematurely induce blindness, since from my position the lampshade did nothing to
protect my eyes from the unyielding bulb. Spots riddled my vision when I looked back
up to Asheronly to catch him frozen in time. The brief flicker of anger had long gone
from his face, leaving a sense of curiosity that returned my sense of self-consciousness.
It didnt take me long to realize that I was on display. My grin faded.
Hastily, I hoisted myself up on my elbow and swung my hand toward the lamps stand,
ready to switch the exposing light off. Before my awkward attempt bore any sort of
fruit, Asher grabbed onto my hand and jerked it away.
No, he commanded casually.
My voice was still a liability, but I knew I didnt have to tell him I wanted the light off for
him to know it. The first time we had sex, I had the privilege of little to no light, the
320

protection of a shirt, but now I had nothing. No security, no armor against the
calculating pierce of the stoic gaze hovering over me. It ran over my bare flesh,
drinking in every detail.
Stoppit, I suddenly blurted, my cheeks flushing uncontrollably.
Asher hitched his hands against my hips as he dragged me down the length of the
table, angling my ass to the edge. Papers noisily wrinkled beneath my weight. The
light stays on, he said.
No, turn it off, I gasped. With my hand free, I tried once again to slam my fingers
against the switch. This time, I succeededbut only for a moment. As soon as my eyes
welcomed the darkness, the bulb flickered back on, this time aimed straight at my
face. I groaned at the loss of sight that came while the screech of metal on wood
filled my ears. I didnt doubt that he was moving the object well out of my reach.
Light stays on, he repeated.
I couldnt fucking see.
Though the status of my vision had nothing to do with what I felt, and I felt the hot
poker of a dick prod against my sphincter when its owner whipped it out from beyond
the hold of an ordinary zipper. I tried to ward off the blinding light with both hands as I
winced one eye shut, using the other to search for the bastards face. From what I
could see, he wasnt looking at me. His attention was on I couldnt see, so I tried to
sit up from the glower of the lamp, but a heavy hand quickly dashed out to bully me
back down.
Turn the light off, I growled.
Like clock work, Light stays on.
I cant see, I replied snidely.
I can, he taunted. I didnt have time to tell him to fuck off. A familiar pop and slosh
later, I felt a memorable pressure jabbing at my entrance. I progressively realized the
purpose of his fingers when the slick mass slid in with minimum resistance; he had
stretched me. Ashers hands grounded around my waist as he inched his way in,
successfully pushing the breath out of me. I laid there like the inexperienced log I was
while my body willingly opened up to his invasion.
Oh fuck, I gasped, squeezing my eyes shut
Relax, he emphasized.
321

Fuck! I moaned when the girth of his member went over and beyond the call of
duty, jerking with arousal within the warm embrace of my innards. Too fast, I wanted to
tell him. Slow down. Not so deep. Stop, all came to mind, but none reached my
tongue. My breath left in torn strips, labored and achingly thin. I couldnt form any
comprehensible words.
It didnt help the situation any that the awkwardness I luckily skipped during my
mindless, passionate first time with Asher suddenly decided to kick in. I couldnt stop
the sudden flood of self-conscious thoughts; how did I look? What expression or sound
was I supposed to make? I didnt know where to put my hands, how to position my
legs. Did I have to hold onto him? Why wasnt he kissing me anymore? Relaxing
proved to be a feat too difficult to achieve without instructions. I didnt know what to
do. I might have become a victim of premature ejaculation if the new bout of
nervousness didnt riddle my thoughts with holes.
Id jumped headfirst into a situation I knew nothing about. Again.
The thickness of my eyelids failed to protect me from the blinding light, so I bent my
arm back to drape it across my eyes. My attempt at protection was taken as one for
modesty, because as quickly as I brought up the barrier, it was removed. His shadow
fell over me with the stoop of his upper body, floating close enough to brush the tails
of his half-open shirt against my navel. Both hands held mine helplessly captive.
No, he crooned. I want to see everything.
My stomach tightened at the rich texture of his voice, the sultry thickness that came
with the height of his excitement. The backdrop of our existence melted away; there
was nothing else for me, nothing but Ashers face, his hands, his cock. He nibbled
hungrily at the arc of my chin as I tried to think of some smartass response I could
actually say without sounding like an idiot. Short of pointless insults, I had nothing.
Thats it, he urged. As I choked out a gasp, he finally pushed the last few inches into
me. His clothed hips press firmly into the back of my thighs. My mouth opened into a
faint outline of an O while I avoided the moan that came with it by tightening the
tunnel of my throat. Just relax.
Heat rushed into my body, little specks of fire and acid that burnt my flesh where he
touched me. It hurt to be in my skin. He fit so perfectly inside my body, like I had been
specifically molded for this occasion. It became a battle not to convulse when he
pulled out, even more so not to scream when he pushed back in. The pressure ached,
I knew soreness would come in the morning, but he filled me to such an extent that
rational thought vanished. My hands were lost, my fingers didnt know what to do, so
when he stretched my arms up to hook my touch onto the top edge of the table, I
complied. My nails dug into the underside of the wood as he repositioned my legs for
322

me, hooking one against his waist while he smoothly shouldered the other. My body
felt so hot, too hot.
What are you doing to me? I panted.
I didnt find his chuckle surprising; I must have sounded ridiculous. Sex was nothing to
him, the sensation was as ordinary as a cup of coffeebut I remembered my first cup
of coffee, the smell, the taste, the steam that warmed my lips. It was always
exhilarating the first time, and I was the novice here. Everything he did was new and
exciting, another lesson, another new fact, idea, technique, and another distraction to
rip me away from reality.
I arched my back to accommodate for the stretch in my leg when he bent down,
consequently slanting my knee toward my face. The position bowed my torso enough
for him to achieve an angle perfect for depth and perception; he hit his mark again,
that perfect little latch that opened the door to a deluge of tingles. My cock gave a
visible twitch against his drooping shirt and wept its agony onto my stomach.
Fuck, he was going so slow.
Understandably, I couldnt say anything to him; hed make me beg, I knew he would.
But why was he going so slow? I cautiously peeked one eye open, to the wrinkled
drape of his sleeve, up the length of his left shoulder and the open collar of his shirt.
The light made it difficult to find detail, but I got the gist of why kissing was no longer in
the equation; he wasnt kidding before, he wanted to see everything, and he hovered
in a higher perch to do just that. My arousal wilted with the shock of embarrassment
that coursed through me. A sharp grunt ripped through my lips as I suddenly withdrew,
pulling my hands to my face and my dangling leg into my stomach. Asher had just
enough hands to stop my knees from recuperating, which allowed my palms to mask
my expression.
Its a little late to be bashful, dont you agree? he mumbled disapprovingly.
I didnt feel shy, it was just oddly disorientating to know someone was constantly,
carefully watching me, especially since he still seemed to be sober.
Muffin, he called, a teasing singsong edge to his voice. How he managed to make
a dessert sound sexy, Id never know, but I loved listening to it. Muffin, look at me.
When I didnt comply, I felt pressure fasten onto the pulsing base of my cock.
Terror flashed my eyes open, and without thought I threw both hands down to protect
my member from any painful squeezes. Surprisingly, I wasnt blinded by light; a short
curtain of sandy hair blocked the extreme rays of light, casting a soothing shadow
323

across my head. The proximity of his face distracted me, momentarily helping me
forget that his hand was still locked around my penis.
And then he squeezed.
FUCK! I screamed, throwing one hand out in a smack against his chest.
Up here, he cooed calmly.
The moment I glanced up at his eyes, he pushed his lips flat against mine. His tongue
ran coolly into my mouth and I tilted my head back to allow it. The hand on my
erection loosened when I began to kiss him back, so I actively suckled on his flesh until
he freed my poor erection.
Bully, I accused miserably.
Hmm, he took up my lips again, never denying my indictment.
His hands ventured up my waist, climbing my ribcage to the leveled field of my chest.
An index and thumb toyed with my nipple. His other hand closed around the inside of
my throat, possessively cutting my breath short. The perfectly molded dick pumped,
four short thrusts and one deep enough to curve my spine. Every time I moaned, he
gave a squeeze to my neck and his teeth bit into my lip, as if he were trying to juice
out more of the sound from my voice box.
There was an inhuman allure I attached to Asher from the first day I met him that
compelled me to always look, never touch. But I wanted to touch. He was soft, warm,
like every other person I knew. His skin would open beneath a sharp edge, he bled
red, but everyone put him on such a high pedestal that I automatically assumed him
to be out of reach. Not now, though, he wasnt out of my reachI could touch him,
feel him, pull him against me as he growled selfishly against my lips. Somewhere along
the way, I laced my fingers through his hair and I jerked his skull closer to overdose on
his breath.
Muffin, Asher growled my name in forewarning. I wanted him to say it again.
Whenever he did, I knew I was close to making him snap. He made me look forward to
hearing his voice; I wanted to push limits just to have him respond.
My fingers jabbed harder against the back of his skull, gathering up fistfuls of silky hair. I
panted brutally into his mouth when his thrusts picked up speed, growing somehow
more urgent as I pulled at his roots. My courage escalated, driving my hands into an
idiocy of their own; I clawed and jerked at everything I could as my legs tightened
around his waist, taking advantage of what appeared to be a masochistic side of
himor maybe my actions made him feel needed, like I needed him. My hands
324

pushed past the collar of his loosened shirt where nails dug furtively into his skin. I
wanted to mark him.
Gradually, I lost myself in him. The power struggle faded. We became a mess of arms,
legs, grunts and moans that cast thick shadows across the tabletop. The heat of the
lamps bulb held nothing against the rising temperature between our bodies. My mind
simmered in defeat, surrendering all attempts at logic to instead focus on Asher; his
hands swept over every crevice his eyes missed, his lips eagerly distracted me, and
several times he suffocated me with the weight of his body. My legs cramped against
his thrusting, but my brain was much too hazy to formulate complaints. I was so lost, so
drunk on the pleasurable sensations.
I almost didnt notice when the hand previously on my side retreated to my crotch.
Fingertips fiddled with the head of my penis, running a semi-circle around the tip
before they traced the length down to the base.
What do you say? he tormented.
I already knew what he wanted. I didnt want the stifling pressure on my erection
again. Fuck, I was already so close. Please, I wheezed hesitantly.
Good boy, Asher rewarded me with a kiss.
His palm perfectly cradled my member, fully devouring the flesh within his grip. I
squirmed, horrifically vulnerable beneath his thrusts as he began to pump my cock.
The added friction was all I needed. He felt so fucking good. Clutching at his back like
a newborn sloth, I rode Asher all the way to heaven. He broke the kiss to let me burrow
my face into his neck while my orgasm undulated a faux seizure, violently shaking my
entire body as I spilled my seed against the sweaty, sticky crack of our bodies.
It wasnt until he pulled out that I noticed Asher hadnt joined me in my moment of
euphoria. He was still hard.
I caught a short glimpse of the glossy, long cock before his powerful grasp wrapped
around my hips and lifted me off the table. My limbs flopped like noodles when he
carelessly flipped me onto my stomach, a gasp echoed through my lips on my
collision with the table. The dull edge of the wood stabbed into my softening cock,
digging into my soiled flesh while one hand bent me with ample force applied to my
back. I gasped in feeble desperation as the erect rod plunged into me again. My
bare feet slipped against the floor, too stunned to attempt balance; I clasped at the
edges of the table to keep myself steady. The animalistic thrusting, along with the new
position, was all rather fleeting. Within the span of ten thrusts, Asher slowed into stillness
and pushed his lips against the back of my neck as warmth filled my core.

325

What the hell?

As soon as he stepped away from me, my body slumped down. Both knees buckled
under my weight and I bumped against the chair as the shiny black shoes clicked
away from me. I blinked the haze out of my eyes just in time to see the door open for
Ashers exit.
That was it? Honestly I didnt expect cuddling, but a wham-bam-thank-you-maam
wasnt exactly on my top ten list either. I felt usednot that it wasnt far from the truth.
Technically I had used Asher as well, I had no right to feel betrayed. I had no right to
feel much of anything in this situation
The echoing rush of water caught my attention, redirecting my sullen gaze to the
open door. A few seconds later, Asher reappeared in the doorway, no longer wearing
his shirt but all zipped up. He offered a puzzled look when he found me on the floor, still
slouched over like a pathetic broken toy. I quickly tore my eyes away from his face,
instead focusing on the pink imprint of a pen hollowing the outside of my arm. There
were also a series of straight cut lines, where the folders on the table had pressed firmly
into my skin.
Come on, Ashers voice earned a jolt out of me. I hadnt heard him approach. In
one grand swoop, he wrapped his arm around my waist and hauled me to my
unsteady feet; pins and needles tingled the muscles on my legs yet again. I followed,
lacking anything better to do, out to the hallway and to the only other open door; the
bathroom. The splash of water grew louder, too strong to be from a sink, too heavy to
be a showerhead. It was a bath, I assumed. He was filling the tub.
I ignored the mushy feeling in my chest as Asher led me over to the filling container,
choosing to fixate on the nausea in my stomach instead. No, I recoiled, leaning
away from the water source.
Youre okay, he reminded me, though it didnt matter how many times he repeated
the damn phrase, it didnt make it true.
No. Stop, Ill clean myself up. I dont water. STOP! I panicked.
You wont drown in this, he stated confidently. My stomach dropped to my toes in a
brief moment of recollection. Did he know something or was it just a guess? Ashers
other hand looped around the back of my legs, exploiting my moment of weakness to
remove my feet out from under me. Water splashed every which way, wetting the
walls, my body, and Ashers bare chest. As soon as I was in the bathtub, Asher
reached over to turn off the faucet. Youre okay, he insisted.

326

Fuck you, you dont know anything, I snapped angrily. The water level barely
reached my navel, it wasnt much to freak out over, but that didnt stop me. I sat frigid
and uncomfortable in the corner of the container, my knees already drawn into my
chest. It was still too soon after the lake plunge, I needed at least two years to be okay
with baths again. Apparently that wasnt good enough for Asher Pickett.
Tell you what. His hand moved up to the back of my neck, wrapping around the
flesh as he tilted me toward his body. He bent down to push the hair off my temple
with his nose, before his lips migrated up to kiss the skin. If you sink, I promise to save
you, he whispered.
My face warmed, reddening with my embarrassment. I jerked my neck out of his grasp
and turned my head away in a clear attempt to hide my expression. In turn, Asher
removed himself from his crouch beside the tub to slink back out of the bathroom. The
click of the door came, giving me privacy.
With him gone, I quickly pulled myself up to my feet in a wobbly stance that
immediately swayed me. The evidence of his enjoyment leaked down the crevice
between my legs, along the length of my thighs. As my knees quivered, I flopped back
down in the measly puddle, finding some pathetic comfort in the liquids temperature.
It was hot, warm against my heated skin, but hot nonetheless. That factor alone
helped me from screaming and running out the door. I could do this, technically, if I
just kept the amount of water controlled. Warm. Never cold. Never threatening. Never
body and head wet at the same time. Never submerge. I mentally strolled through the
list of conditions I created when I was twelve to soothe myself while my eyes glared
holes into the faucet.
My fingers trembled when I reached out to turn the water back on. Mere seconds
later, I switched it back off. No, I couldnt do this. I wasnt going to voluntarily drown
myself.
Instead of filling the bathtub, I hoisted myself up to sit at the ledge. My toes tactfully
unplugged the drain before I turned the water on again, just enough to get a steady
stream of hot water. Using the new washcloththe tag was still on itI scrubbed and
cleaned my skin, removing residue of sweat and semen. The latter was harder than
the former, but I managed. After completely drying my body with the towels still on the
toilet seat, I knelt outside of the tub and bent my torso in; as long as I was there, I
figured I might as well clean my hair. Cautiously, I shampooed and conditioned my
hair.
It was a grueling process, yes, but it saved me some serious mental agony later.
Disappointingly, when I emerged from the bathroom with a towel around my waist
and the toothbrush shoved in one cheek, I found the apartment quite and lightless. A
quick glance into the empty office assured me Asher had gone, leaving me quite
327

suddenly alone. What, not even a goodbye? I scoffed at my own thoughts as I silently
retreated to the room meant for me.
The controlling bastard didnt disappoint; I found a fresh set of clothes on the edge of
the bed when I turned the light on, along with a plastic bag filled with books? I
jerked a yellow post-it off the handle, this one neatly labeled with the words From
Alrick. Books? Why? Oh, right, I had asked him for books weeks ago. I needed to
pay him back later.
I shoved the heavy bag off my bed before picking up the folded pajamas. They were
plain, grey, and thankfully not designed with any mini-muffins. Beneath the pants and
shirt, underwear awaited me. Red briefs. Seriously, I didnt understand his strong dislike
for boxersor was it just an obsession with briefs? Whatever, I didnt care, I quickly
redressed and slid out of the room again.
In a way, I was glad he left. I had a feeling more awkwardness would ensue if he
lingered; after all, what was I supposed to say to him? Thanks for the fuck, Im not
thinking about my nightmare anymore? I didnt think that would fly. I did, however,
want to know why he was there to begin with didnt he have to go out of the
country? Ah, I remembered now, he stated earlier that he would return to check on
me. Was that really what he meant, or did he come back for a quick fuck? I was
probably a real easy lay.
Fuck, I huffed under my breath.
The little tumble on the table had left me both tired and hungry. I hadnt eaten
anything for lunch or dinner either, so I decided to take advantage of the turkey
sandwich. I used the dim moonlight peeking through the open blinds to find my way
through the small kitchen, straight to the refrigerator. The condiments and jars in the
door rattled gently as I pulled the door open, spearing the darkness with the nightlight.
The sandwich was right where Id left it, at the front row, with the post-it still attached. I
quickly snatched the food and pivoted my weight back to the counter.
The body I almost bumped into shred a surprised cry from my throat. The plate flew
from my fingertips, spiraling to the floor as I took hiccupping steps backward against
the refrigerator. I could barely make out his face, and without the mask, it took me a
few horrific seconds to recognize him. It was the crutches that tipped me off; though
even those scared me past belief. I hadnt heard him approach, how did not hear
him?
Vincenzo limped forward, past the plate too cheap to shatter, and left one crutch
leaning against the counter as he stretched a hand out. I pressed my spine persistently
against the refrigerator door, frozen with an aching fear I didnt quite understand.
Shame hit me full speed, smashing against my chest. I forgot about him, I realized. The
328

moment Asher showed up, I forgot Vincenzo was in the apartment with me, that he
even existed. Had we woken him up? I never stopped to think about my volume, or
our actions.
His fingers awkwardly wove into my damp hair, gathering the heavy strands into his
palm as he gave a gentle tug forward. I tilted my head up as my adams apple
bobbed with a tentative swallow, staring into his faintly visible face. If I focused
deliberately, I could make out the scars on the left side of his face, where the leather
mask had been before; thin contusions that spread like tiny branches up across his
cheek. The left eye, once hidden by leather, held a predominant white glaze that
hinted at blindness, though it somehow managed to stare directly at me with no pupil
guiding it. I stared, horrified and disturbingly fascinated at the same time.
Move, he hissed.
I did just that, scrambling out of the way in the beat of a heart. I almost tripped over his
crutch as I raced out of the kitchen, straight into the living room. The refrigerator door
opened again, giving leeway for the Italian to reach in and grab a fresh bottle of
beer. A dumbfounded sensation rooted me to the spot as I watched him tuck the
bottle into the waist of his modified sweat pants, picked his crutches back up, and
limped silently down the hallway. Mindlessly, I ran my fingers through the black strands
where hed touched me.
I could have sworn he smelled my hair.

329

He had, hadnt he? He smelled my hair.

Rubbing self-consciously at the side of my head, where phantom pains spiked through
the roots into my skull, I stared through the darkness until the click of a door came.
What the fuck? I hissed to myself, squeezing moisture from my hair as I groaned
inwardly at my own runaway imagination. Surely, I was mistaken.
Still running my fingers through my hair, I tracked my other hand along the wall where I
recalled the light switch to be located. When I found the slight groove in the surface,
my index finger flicked the switch up to fill the room with exposing light so I could see
the mess of what should have been my food; most of it fell in strips on the kitchen floor,
a chunk of turkey beneath the table, a cut of lettuce beside the refrigerator. Releasing
my hair, I grabbed some paper towels to clean up. What a horrid waste. Even with my
growing hunger, I didnt want to bother with making a new sandwich.
Disposing of the remains in the trashcan didnt take too long. I washed the
mayonnaise off my fingers and pushed the light switch down before heading back to
my room. With Vincenzos newly discovered soundless travel, I suddenly desired a
deadbolt lock on my doorthat wasnt too much to ask for, was it? The creep freaked
me out. He could sneak into my room at any given moment to kill me. I wouldnt even
hear him coming! Then again, if he wanted to kill me, he wouldnt need to do any
sneaking. I sighed softly at my own thoughts as I moved to the bed, making sure to
snatch the bag of books Alrick had bought for me. It made me grin to skim the titles of
the first three, obviously handpicked by a librarian that had been given the instructions
to find books for a teenager.
I chose the thickest one in the bunch, a book about a boy with a terrible secret
given, it was the most clich storyline, but I wasnt looking for a good story, just
something to keep myself busy. Next time, though, I would write a list for Alrick. His
estimation of my reading level was much too low.
Propping the pillows up against the headboard, I rested back on the cushions and
cracked the book open to the first chapter. A clock on the wall audibly ticked the
minutes away as I mentally unattached myself from reality, delving into the life of the

330

fictional character in my hands. I successfully tired my eyes out within the hour, and by
chapter 17 I curled up with the book pressed against my chest to cuddle into the
warm sheets. Sleep was inevitable.
A scream woke me.
The bloodcurdling sound pierced my eardrums, jumpstarting my heart. As my eyes
snapped open, my hand slapped against my mouth to keep both breath and bawl
subdued. A scream? From me? I never screamed, not even from the worst nightmares.
Seconds later, the thick sound came again, sharper, shorter, more distinct... not
muffled. Not controlled, not silenced. My eyes widened in the darkness as a loud
clatter came from the next room, followed by a harsh crack, jagged enough to be
glass.
Someone cursed.
Everything moved so quickly then; I didnt stop to think as I leapt off the bed. My heart
raced into my throat, rippling bumps through my skin that erected the small hairs on
the back of my neck. Halfway into the hall, I made the conscious connection that the
sound was not coming from my throat; but before I could stop myself, I barreled
through into the room at the end of my path, throwing the barrier open as I staggered
into the dark surroundings.
Not so dark, actually. An abundance of moonlight rushed through the open windows,
entwining past curtains to fall across the large furniture on the other end of the room.
A haggard form sat up in bed, torso bent over twisted legs, a mass of black hair
dripped into two cupping hands. I tightened my hand on the doorknob as the form
moved, shifting aside streams of fabric that draped beautifully across a body
glistening in sweat. Vincenzos dark gaze ripped straight through the darkness to stab
into my panicked chest, punching the last of my breath out of me. I stood paralyzed
by the open door, squeezing the knob so tightly in my grasp that my knuckles
threatened to turn white.
Get out! he yelled.
It was all the instruction I needed, though for reasons unknown to me, I couldnt move
my legs. I stared, bewildered, at the only human within miles of me that could have
been the source of the frightening cry which woke me. My brain screamed at me to
leave, to let him suffer alone the way he deservedthough my body didnt budge. I
couldnt take my eyes off of him, yet again. The sweat that often clung to me after my
nightmares was visible on him, caked across his nude skin, rolling down his shoulders,
his arms. I had just pinpointed a slight shake in his fingers when Vincenzos arm lashed
out to the side.
331

I didnt see it come, but my mindless reaction to his flickering hand was enough to
save face literally. I bent both arms up over my head seconds before something
cold, hard, and identifiably heavy smacked into the bone of my forearm. I staggered
against the open door as the object shattered, pricking my skin where cloth didnt
protect me. A yelp tore through my lips, echoing alongside another growl from the
opposite end of the room, one filled with enough rage to paint a clear picture of his
expression in my head. He was pissed.
Shock didnt let me feel the pain of what had just happeneda part of me wasnt
really sure it did happen. Something was thrown at me, and it clearly broke. It was wet,
or had liquid in it; my shirt clung to my stomach where the moisture had spilled.
GET OUT! he roared louder, an audible crack in his voice.
I moved this time, dashing out of the room as quickly as my feet allowed. A rush of
adrenaline had me reaching back to grab the handle before slamming the door shut
behind me. Seconds later the skin on the back of my arm began to prickle with pain,
so I grabbed the bottom of my shirt to fold over the curve of my forearm before
scratching at the damaged flesh, hoping beyond hope that blood wouldnt be
present when I next looked. Thankfully, the absence of light in the hallway didnt leave
any room for close inspection.
Just as I contemplated heading into the bathroom another sharp crack sounded off. I
pressed my back tightly against the door, tensing up this time when the unidentified
sounds continued. A soft crunch, a louder clack, then; Fuck! Glancing down to the
floor, I could see the light spilling from the crack beneath the door, highlighting the
backs of my feet. Shit! Fuck! his anguished growl came from beyond the door again.
I was too shocked, too curious to be mad.
Gathering what bravado I could manage, I turned to enter his room once more.
A lamp on the nightstand lit up the room, exposing the mess and the culprit; a picture
frame sat in disarray beside the bed, one edge badly dented, the outline cracked
and the screen completely shattered. From the blood splattered around the stray
pieces of glass, I speculated that the cripple had stepped on what he couldnt clean.
Who said you could come in here? Vincenzo snarled.
He looked understandably tired, having lacked a good night sleep just as I had. One
crutch rested at the edge of the mattress, the other on the floor, freeing his hands for
one to stretch back to his shoulders and lightly rub at the taught muscles. Rows of curls
fell into his complexion where his skull tilted away from me, though I could see the faint
outline of his eyes tightly pressed shut over the exhaustion he felt. He wasnt looking at
me, which allowed enough courage for a step forward into the room.
332

Dont even think about it, he growled irritably.

Youre hurt, I assumed. My own words sent my eyes on a scavenger hunt, invading
every crevice of the cripples body to look for the open wound. It wasnt hard to
pinpoint the growing pool of red beneath his foot.
So I am, he suddenly sneered, furrowing his dark eyebrows together as the curls
bobbed gently against his cheeks. On the jerk up, the lone brown eye rolled in my
direction again, giving me something to focus on so I didnt gawk at the other side of
his face. His lips parted lightly, hinting at insults to come.
Ill clean it up, I quickly volunteered.
I deserted him in his room to rush into the kitchen, where I searched for a dustpan. It
didnt surprise me to find most of the cupboards empty, which meant no broom and
no dustpan. I opted for a roll of paper towels. On my way back into his room I found
the evidence of the object he had thrown at me in the heat of the moment; his beer
bottle.
I resisted glancing at the prickling area on my arm as I wrapped two paper towels
around my palm, sure to cushion it against sharp shards before I dared to use it as a
broom. With another paper towel set out as my dustpan, I gathered up the residue of
the beer bottle before crawling over to the bedside for the picture frame. Vincenzo
never once spoke; he consistently watched, his lone eye closely following my actions.
Although I never dared to directly look at him, I kept tab through my peripheralsif he
decided to throw anything else, I wanted to be ready.
After disposing every jagged edge I could find on the floor, I wiped the wood with a
wet paper towel for extra measure. In truth, I was trying to postpone facing him as long
as possible. I couldnt stop thinking about his scream, a chilling sound that literally
stood my hair up on end, and his scarred face continued to prove itself a fascination
for me.
First aid kit? I asked.
Bathroom, he grunted.
What I had expected to see in his room the previous day verified its existence in the
master bathroom; two guns sat on the sink, one dismantled, another presumably
loaded. An unidentified box rested in the corner by the shower, most likely filled with
more weapons of mass destruction. I bypassed the possibility of danger to kneel by the
sink and jerk open the cabinet doors, where I found a plain green box.

333

Still avoiding his gaze, I returned to Vincenzos bedside with churning anxiety. I didnt
want to touch the blood, it would surely make me freak outso of course I took full
advantage of the gloves in the kit. Snapping both on, I hesitantly reached out to the
cut foot, the one that wasnt caught within a cast. The Italian allowed my touch,
though released an annoyed grunt when I began to bend the limb up. Why am I
doing this? echoed loudly in my head, while my morality insisted that the cripple
couldnt do it by himself. He needed my help.
My eyes moved steadily across the back of my knuckles, never directly pausing on the
red while I cleaned, disinfected and bandaged the small cuts on the pad of his foot. I
didnt notice him reaching a hand out as I repacked the kit, but the friction of his cold
fingers against my inflamed skin felt like a spark; I jolted back away from him at the
moment of contact.
What? I gasped breathlessly, my heart beat already growing erratic.
Youre bleeding, he frowned, pointing down to my arm.
Fear riddled my senses as I hesitantly tilted my head down to glance at the suggested
areafrom my perspective, I could see nothing, but with Vincenzo still watching me I
felt obligated to bend my arm up and survey the area just above my elbow. Thin
streams of red ran down the curve of my flesh, creating obscure, contour designs
across the palling skin. The sharp contrast sent my mind spiraling backward, triggering
my dark imaginations vivid display of chaos.
Goomba? the cripple called, snapping my attention back to him.
The glazed white of his tarred eye offered a sickening stillness that drastically
contrasted the thick hue of his unharmed iris, both which peered at me with an
innocence Id never witnessed on Vincenzo before. The sense of curiosity I identified
on his expression didnt match the angry Italian persona I categorized him under in my
head. He looked almost serene. This was the first time I actually got to see his scarred
face up close, with reasonable light, and all I could think of was how strangely
appealing he looked. My distracted brain struggled to keep up when he withdrew his
hand to point to one corner of the room; his lips moved, uttering sound, but for some
reason I couldnt decipher his words. Nausea overwhelmed me.
What? I frowned, narrowing my gaze onto his lips, attempting futilely to read them. I
couldnt focus; the bright red of my own bodily fluids haunted me as harshly as the
white of his eye. Blood, there was so much blood. On my body. My skin. I had to get it
off. I had to get it off before it completely consumed me.
The cripple said something I didnt understandwhether spoken in Italian or English
was beyond meas I pummeled into panic mode. I pivoted my weight back,
334

discarding objects in my hand to roll onto my feet. My thoughts lagged, disconnecting

in my head. The quick change in altitude undulated a sense of dizziness over me that
caused my legs to wobble inhumanely beneath my weight. Vincenzo flinched forward
as I crashed into his dresser, managing to simultaneously knock over an indistinct
figurine and steady myself at the same time. Everything moved, from the furniture to
the lights, the shadows, gravity itself. I couldnt focus; the lightheaded sensation
blurred outlines, almost sending me barreling over the crutch leaning on the edge of
the bed when I tried to turn. Vincenzo grabbed onto my elbow and corrected my
posture just as it seemed that I was doomed to meet the floor, which quickly sent me
in the other direction, right onto the bed.
What the fuck is wrong with you? he snapped, clearly annoyed.
I have to get it off, the blo.. I have t... I panted, attempting to explain. My hitched
breathing didnt leave room for comprehension; every word that escaped was more
airy than the last. I shouldnt have looked when he pointed out the wound, I shouldnt
have reacted so carelessly. I made another mistake then, I tried to stand up, which
sent the blood in my body to all the wrong points. To give Mario credit, I did notice him
reach out toward me again, but I was too far from his limited reach and already
descending. I dont remember hitting the floor.
Yeah, hes waking up.
I woke up in a delirious mess, panting, sweating like a pig, and staring wide-eyed at a
face hovering over me. The distorted, scarred features werent hard for me to
recognize, even as I emerged from a mess of details that never quite made sense to
begin with. The anxiety in my stomach encouraged dryness in my mouth that had my
lips forming wavering ovals meant to hold sound, but I never achieved meaning.
Vincenzo skewed his eyebrows together and glared down at me while I focused my
attention on a small groove at the bridge of his nose, a distinctive bump that
somehow accented his ruined face. He didnt look gruesome at all with the new
battle wounds, just seasoned. I didnt mind gawking in the least.
I liked him better without the mask.
What? I suddenly choked out, realizing that he had spoken.
Nightmare, he noted.
How observant of him. Was he in my room? No, no, I was in his room, on his bed,
clutching a small pillow to my stomach. Vincenzo leaned against the headboard, his
thick curls bobbing down towards me as I pinpointed my attention onto certain details

335

to keep others out of my immediate attentions spectrum. Brown, his good eye was
caramel brown, with small specks of green. Did that make it hazel? No, it was brown.
I didnt realize I was reaching a hand toward the said caramel brown eye until a harsh
force closed over my wrist, crushing my frail bones beneath the continuously
tightening pressure. I gasped, arching off the mattress as my eyes snapped to the
pose of my angled hand lingering a good distance away from me. If I flexed my
fingers, I would have been able to flick a tip against his swaying curls of black; it was
his hand that had stopped me, keeping me suspended in time with a strength I had
yet to find ordinary.
Sorry, I whispered, triggering his release of my hand. His fingers then curled up
toward his own face, reaching beneath the layers of ink to pull out a small rectangular
object he had previously balanced against his shoulder. Silver glittered as he rolled it
down the surface of his palm, letting what I soon found to be a cell phone fall right
onto my stomach.
As soon as it reached me, I used all available limbs to rear myself up into a sitting
position. Tingling pain snapped my eyes down to my arms, both of them wrapped in
bandages from elbow to wrist. The bottle tossing barely fluttered across my memory
when Vincenzo grunted, reminding me of his presence. I jumped up reflexively, my
bones colliding while I squeezed my eyes shut against the upkeep of my runaway
heart.
A faint sound came from the phone.
Forcing my eyes open, I grabbed onto the item to raise it up to my ear where my skin
felt like it had overheated. Only then did I realize Vincenzo hadnt been talking to me,
he had been talking about me. Coughing softly against my own palm, I blinked a bit
of the sleepy haze out of my eyes and reached up to rub at my forehead with my free
hand. Hello?
Good morning, his voice instantly soothed me. I literally felt my muscles relax, melting
beneath the warmth of his dominant, strong tone.
Hi, I whispered, heaving a sigh of relief I shouldnt have allowed him to hear. When I
heard the laugh that followed, I knew Id done something wrong. I was such a silly,
pathetic boy. What do you want? I barked to reinstall my I-hate-you attitude.
Vincenzos informed me that youre not sleeping well.
I furrowed my eyebrows together as my fingers curled in, raking my nails down the side
of my face in pure frustration. Was that the only piece of information shared? How
horribly unfair. Whats it to you?
336

Im not allowed to be concerned?

No, I grunted, closing my eyes as the purr of his laughter filled my ear again.
I suppose its just a matter ofAh, just a moment, he paused, momentarily
distancing himself from the receiver as another muffled voice came from the
background. Have it sent to me, he spoke to the third party calmly, firmly. Not
necessarily, though Id imagine it would be desirable for future use.
Here, I tossed the phone back to its original owner when Asher resumed his
conversation with someone else. I wasnt going to wait for him like a lovesick puppy,
not after I sighed like one at the sound of his voice. Internally damning myself, I picked
myself off the bed and merged down the hall, into the kitchen.
Beyond fluttering curtains, sunlight streamed into the room, hinting at morning. Id slept
through what little remained of the night; if slept was the right word. Chills ran down
my back, reminding me of the sweat still clinging to my body. In a crazed moment, I
grabbed at the bottom of my shirt with both hands to tug it up, up, over my head. The
fabric folded easily beneath my frantic fingers, bunched into a ball I hastily used to rub
my body dry. I couldnt stand the notion of being wet. How ironic it was, then, that I
was thirsty.
I cracked the refrigerator door open to fetch myself a carton of orange juice, which I
diligently poured into a fresh glass and downed by the time the clatter of crutches
came. Small vibrations shot through the floor where his crutches hit the wood, creating
a soft rhythm that flowed straight into the kitchen. From the corner of my eye, I noticed
him watching me, studying as I filled the glass again. My mouth felt so utterly dry, I
didnt think twice about completely engulfing a second glass, then a third. I was
pouring a fourth when I caught sight of him still staring at me.
My lower lip curled into the coven of my teeth. I turned to face him, furrowing my
eyebrows at his expression and exhaling softly through my nostrils. What? I growled
when he refused to break eye contact.
Youre shaking.
I whipped my head away from him, hating the reminder of the chill in my bones. Im
cold, I claimed, even though my words greatly contradicted my missing attire. It
faintly occurred to me to put my shirt back on, but the idea of damp fabric on my skin
wasnt worth the validity of my lie. I heard Vincenzo grunt while my gaze wandered
down to the glass sitting at the edge of the counter, where perspiration dripped down
the glass. The drops of water sent me spiraling back, into the depths of the watery
grave I had just crawled out of. I couldnt shake the image of the hollow, pale
337

countenance I saw beneath the surface; the screaming face of Vincenzo, his eyes
wide, mouth ajar, tongue curled back against the orifice of his throat. He was
screaming my name.
Hey, the Italian called, his voice frighteningly closer than I last recalled. He touched
me again, snapping me out of my thoughts while shocking another jump out of me.
What the fuck? he growled, frustration climbing.
Fuck off, I sneered.
I fully expected to hear him make fun of me, to point out my fears and criticize my
weaknesses, but all he said next was; Do you have those often?
Orange juice? Sure, when I can, I responded falsely. We both knew I was aware of
the real subject in question, and we both knew I was going to stubbornly avoid it, so
the bluntness continued.
The nightmares, he corrected, swaying his weight to one side so that he could lean
against the counter instead of depending on both crutches.
Did he use a plural? How many nightmares did I have last night? I suckled my lower lip
in pure anxiety as I drew in short breaths through my nostrils. Calm down, I just needed
to calm down. No.
What do you dream about? his mismatched gaze narrowed.
Pink bunnies and pretty, pretty princesses. Get off my back, okay? I hissed
defensively.
I didnt know bunnies and princesses were nightmare worthy, he arched a brow.
I wasnt the one screaming like a little girl last night, I wanted to snap, but my mean
streak had withered away with my source of energy. My body was lacking food and
sleep, I didnt have the brain power to match his sarcasm. Youd be surprised, I
whispered instead, softly sighing at myself.
Try me, he dared.
My eyes flashed up, shamelessly drinking in the details of the beasts features. Every
time I looked at him, guilt tugged at my heartstrings, and yet a morbid fixation with the
complexity of his face kept me from flinching away. I should have been ashamed, his
face was supposed to make me cringe, but the more I looked at him, the more I found
my fascination growing. My own scars were scratches compared to hisI couldnt
338

even imagine the impact necessary to create those streaks, or the temperature high
enough to stain his skin. Though that didnt mean my overactive imagination didnt try.
Do you want to touch them? his voice cracked my brain open like an egg.
Yes, I did. Huh?
Youve been staring at my scars none stop. Do you want to touch them or not?
I really did. What did they feel like? Ripples? Bumps? Did they go in further than they
came out? After all the movies I poisoned my mind with, I couldnt quite convince
myself they were real. But if I touched them No.
Then stop staring, you little shit, he snarled.
Go fuck yourself, I fired back half-heartedly.
Ladies first.
Original. You think of that all by yourself? I scoffed.
Is that a new notion for you?
I paused, my wit lagging behind the light-headed sensation starving myself often
caused. Vincenzo noticed my miss in beat, a failure anyone else might have taken as
a forfeit but he saw as a hint to my declining health. I caught the unavoidable
approach of questions in his expression and immediately turned away from him. No,
but I attempted vainly to think of a clever comeback. I bet it is for you, I finished
lamely.
Youre officially so pathetic that its no longer fun to insult you, he noted honestly.
That was the plan, I snickered, reaching out to the orange carton to pour myself
another glass.
A little to the left, Vincenzo instructed just as my aim missed the edge of the glass, in
turn spilling the juice all over the counter.
Fuck! I swore, jerking the carton back so quickly that I ended up splashing myself as
well. The paper towels were still in the Italians room, so I had nothing to aid me while
the wasted drink dripped towards the edge of the counter. Shit, I continued my
curses. The dizziness failed to outwardly show itself in a visible illustration of rotating

339

yellow birds, so I probably looked like an idiot when I grabbed at the edge of the
counter for no apparent reason. I hate it here!
Deal, he jeered seconds before his crutches began their rhythm again; they clacked
into the living room behind me and came to a sudden halt. The couch creaked,
sliding back across the wooden floor when the impact of his weight hit. As the useless
babble of the television switched on, I reluctantly panned out my sweaty shirt over the
small pool of orange juice. It was already ruined, I figured, so it didnt matter.
Where is your laundry basket? I questioned.
Dont have one, he mumbled.
Slob, I accused.
Nag.
Your slander is unwarranted.
I beg to differ, he snickered.
I bet you do that a lot, I scoffed, tossing the dripping shirt into the sink. Beg, that is.
Do you always project your own insecurities on others?
Im learning from the best, I grinned. Though I admit I have a ways to go before I
reach your Excellency.
You know, thats true on so many different levels.
Keep telling yourself that, I laughed as my hands pressed down beneath the flow of
water, washing the sticky residue of orange juice from my skin. The rumble of my
stomach was enough to remind me of hunger, of the turkey sandwich, of the night
before. It was the perfect time to preoccupy my mind with something else, and I
selected cooking. Licking softly at my lips, I turned to rummage through the
cupboards. Most of the given area was empty, but what I did find was enough to
make a half-assed meal.
While Vincenzo watched his sitcoms, I fried the chicken, warmed the bread, chopped
vegetables and fetched condiments. Lunch didnt take long to make; wrapping
chicken, lettuce and cheese in a piece of bread wasnt difficult. I even dared to call it
a burrito. Of course it was nowhere near the perfection of what I usually bought from
the Jillbertos on Sixth Street.

340

Lunch is served, I announced proudly as I set the plate in the cripples lap. With it, I
brought a cold beer, which he seemed to appreciate more than my effort behind the
freshly made food. I waited expectantly for him to try it, hovering over his head like a
stalking vulture as I crossed both arms over my chest. Vincenzo offered me a skeptical
glance, like he expected the food to be poisoned, while he reached both hands
down to pick the burrito off the plate. I dont have access to poison, I reminded him.
Just as he bit into the food, I added But I do have access to razors.
He smirked defiantly while he chewed, choosing to take his time swallowing before he
gave a smack of his lips. Youre not that creative, he commented. And this isnt half
bad. I thought you couldnt cook?
I lied, I grinned toothily.
Whered you learn? he asked in between bites.
I live in a diner. Things rub off.
I thought you lived at a restaurant.
Work at the restaurant, live at the diner. Big difference.
Hardly.
I shrugged lightly at his ignorance as I returned to fetch my own plate. Skipping a drink,
I retreated back to the couch with food in hand and by then, Vincenzo was already
done with his meal. I figured he was insanely hungry. Or maybe I was insanely good at
cooking.
One bite into my own creation proved that no, in fact, I wasnt good at cooking. The
burrito was bland and boring, but then again considering the limited ingredients I had,
it wasnt half bad. I frowned quietly to myself as I fingered the edge of the torn bread,
taking time to chew what I had in my mouth with hopes that I would soon become full.
I was already craving Annas delicious meals. Even her left-overs, were better than this.
God, I missed her cooking, and her special Oatmeal Muffins.
Hey Mario?
Hmm?
Whats the real reason I have to stay here?

341

His head jerked up, offering a slight glimpse of his white-glazed eye before the curls
gently floated back into place. The dark caterpillar over his brown eye furrowed
down, wrinkling the pale skin of his forehead. There was a slight moment of
deliberation in his expression, like he was weighing the pros and cons of telling me the
truth. Or of lying to me. I figured both would be equally short lists, considering that I
meant next to nothing to him. You know too much.
My heart somersaulted in my chest, taking a beat away while my ears flooded with
blood. But I dont know anything.
But other people think you do, and thats enough for an execution, he paused,
giving me a quick look over before turning back to the television. Not that I mind.
I scowled visibly at his response. No, of course he wouldnt mind. If he had it his way,
hed probably throw me to the wolves. The only reason I was alive was because of
Asher? Well that was suspect, too. There was no tangible reason hed need or want
me alive. The story revolving around my life suddenly had so many holes in it. If only I
knew what they planned for me
Hey Mario? I tried again.
Hmm? his response was a bit more annoyed this time.
Why do you work for Pickett? I figured it was safer than what do you do for him?,
which everyone seemed to want to keep from me.
Sure enough, he found it easier to answer. I got recruited, you could say.
I offered a nervous lick to my lower lip before daring to speak again. What did you do
before he recruited you?
Extrajudicial punishment, he grinned dangerously, flashing his pearly whites with a
quiet tilt of his head. I didnt immediately understand the answer. Id never heard it
before; judicial meant court, right? And punishment was punishment. So what? He
was a judge?
What? I frowned at the comical image of Vincenzo in black robes and a white wig,
banging a gavel. Needless to say, it didnt fit.
Hitman, he sighed, dumbing things down for me.
I fought back a shiver by tightening my grip on my burrito. For the government? I
guessed, dissecting the word extrajudicial to the best of my ability.

342

Sure, he answered a bit too darkly. My curiosity peeked, my mind jumping to all the
different conclusions as to why Vincenzo might have left a job with the government to
work for Asher. Maybe his boss abused their power, or Asher had some dirt on him, or
maybe he got fired yeah, I could already picture the raging Italian throwing a chair
against the wall because someone suggested anger management.
Oh.. I trailed off, turning back to the television. What about Alrick? What had he
done before? Id have to ask him. While a commercial for a new movie flickered onto
the screen, I tore a chunk of the bread off my food to feed my mouth. My eyes
fluttered down to the bandages on my arms, hiding the majority of my skin, so crisp
and neatly wrapped. I was a bit annoyed that he had used me for target practice,
but being on the other side, I understood the dazed state vivid nightmares punted
humans into; and the cripple was just as susceptible to that factor as I was. Hey
Mario?
What?! he growled, tiring of my interruptions.
I rolled a piece of chicken out of my burrito, gently squeezing it between my index
and thumb before popping it into my mouth. I wasnt fazed by his aggression, it was
quite easy to get used to after a while. Thanks, I mumbled, taking a moment to
chew while my free hand pointed to my arms. For last night, I mean.
What about last night? he arched a brow.
I stared at him a moment, not sure if I was surprised or expectant. He was denying me
the events of the night beforewhich maybe I should have been grateful for; after all,
I had made a fool of myself. Nevermind, I whispered, reclining further into my corner
of the couch.
Good, now shut up. Youre disrupting my TV time.
Youre not even watching anything, I grumbled like a chided child.
I would be if you werent pestering me with your useless questions.
Im curious.
Save it.
One more question?
Vincenzo exaggerated a sigh, simultaneously raising one hand to lightly rub his
fingertips against his right temple. Maybe he thought he owed me. Fine, but last
one.
343

A soft nod rocked my head, rushing my hair into my face. I reached out to gingerly pull
the bangs out of my eyes before I attempted bravery. Last night wh.. why were
you screaming? what did you dream about? What made you scream?
Pink bunnies and pretty princesses, he sniped.
I flinched involuntarily at his answer, knowing I deserved the vague quality. ... Do you
have them often?
His expression darkened. Every night.
My appetite completely diminished. Yeah, I whispered quietly, dropping my half
eaten burrito back to the plate before rocking my weight forward. If my own immature
images kept me up at night, I could only imagine what kind of things a trained hitman
saw in his dreams. How many people had he killed?
Ugh, thinking of death made my head hurt.
You want some coffee or something? I suggested, looking for another way to busy
myself.
He raised the remote up, using one edge to itch at his chins stubble as his head tilted
toward me again. Alright, he paused, lips still open, eyes staring, and just as I began
to feel uncomfortable he finished with a; And can you put a shirt on?
I jumped off the couch like it was on fire. Shit, Id completely forgotten. Where was my
head? Why was I acting like such an idiot? I grumbled sourly beneath my breath as I
hurried toward my room, pausing only briefly to set my plate down on the kitchen
counter. It didnt occur to me then why Vincenzo might have wanted me to cover up.
Barging into the boring bedroom, I rushed over to the dresser that held my shirts in the
upper drawer. In my haste, I miscalculated my step, which led to a rather awkward
crash forward into the wall when my foot caught onto the bag of books still beside my
bed. A hissed curse rushed through my lips upon collision, one painful enough to make
me groan. In a moment of anger, I spun around to harshly kick the tomes of
knowledge away from me; they soared backward, three of them falling out of the
bag while two remained toppled within the plastic. I took another step forward, about
to kick again when I noticed a particular disturbance in the pattern of color.
A bright yellow post-it peeked out from the pages of a fallen book, its top edge folded
so that the sticky part wouldnt attach itself to a certain page. I stared at it with clear
skepticism, understandably doubting my own eyes at that pointbut as I bent down

344

to touch it, the paper proved tangible. Hesitantly, I turned it over to find one clear,
large word printed on the surface.
Run.
I grinned faintly at what must have been a joke, but spots of doubt were already
popping up in the back of my mind. Run? What was it supposed to mean? The
handwriting was the same as the ones on the other notes, the other hints Id seen
earlier. Was Asher playing a game with me? Again?
Just wondering.... I called into the hallway as I approached my open door. Who
wrote all the post-its around the apartment?
Alrick, the irritated Italian answered. Why?
My heart sank.

345

Alrick? He had written the notes I originally thought belonged to Asher?

I glanced nervously at the back of Vincenzos head, holding the post-it out in front of
me like I was silently asking him for an answer. I already knew he couldnt give me one.
As soon as my mind recuperated, I turned to rush into the bathroom to fetch the first
two notes I had discarded in the sink. Fear brought a shake to my hands that made
unfolding the yellow papers rather difficult; but once I managed the task, it became
apparent that the handwriting was the same on all three pieces of paper. I didnt
need to dig the turkey label out of the trashcan to know that one would match too.
But why? What was Alrick trying to tell me?
Clutching the notes, I merged out of the bathroom and back into my room. As soon as
I moved to grab a new batch of clothes, Vincenzos voice came again. Why? he
repeated.
No reason, I yelled back. Just curious. And scared the fuck out of my mind. I stared
down at my tightened fist, at the messages that could have been jokes or lies. Alrick
had done nothing in the past to make me believe I was in danger; not in so many
words. Had he been trying to warn me from the beginning? Had I missed earlier hints?
The only one that had told me to run before was Vincenzo.
Thats right, Vincenzo. He was still with me; I couldnt run anywhere just yet. After
grabbing a shirt and hiding the post-its under my pillow, I headed back into the
kitchen to brew the promised coffee. I thought it safe to attempt escape when my
crippled watcher wasnt otherwise waiting on me.
Luckily, I was as much a street rat as the next runaway teenager. As I waited for the
coffee, I mentally sought out several ways to runprobably too many exit strategies to
be helpful. I wasnt exactly trained to deal with such a frightening situation; or was it
just a frightening idea? Surely I was making everything worse than it really was;
perhaps I was mentally exaggerating the meaning behind the note. Yes, I must have

346

been. There would be no reason for Alrick to tell me to run when he was the one that
had brought me into this supposed safe house to begin with.
Right?
The best thing to do then was to keep my cool, but I couldnt. It wasnt in me. I was a
frightened, paranoid civilian and that easily made me a ticking time bomb. Before I
could alarm Vincenzo with my actions, I excused myself with a rude remark and
disappeared into my room.
With my heart raging in my chest, I changed into jeans and a sweatshirt before
snatching the post-its. My hands visibly shook when I tried to lace my shoes, which I
managed to clumsily drop a few times. I knew stealth was essential, but my fear kept
winning.
My first plan had been to sneak out through the front door; but not only was that risky, I
didnt know when Vincenzo would go to bed. Waiting until he retired wasnt an
option, I felt much too frightened to wait for nightfall. It was then that I recalled the
window in Ashers office, the train tracks beyond, the fire escape. I remembered
catching a glimpse of the old, black metal that curled up past the glass in the
morning. That was my way out.
When I was sure I had everything I needed, I snuck out of my room and across the hall,
to the opposing door. The sound of the television led me to believe that Vincenzo was
still occupied, but I was too scared to actually check. I darted into the office, quietly
closing the door behind me before I turned to search for the window. It was right
where I left it, behind the table, beside the chair. With aching difficulty, I blocked out
the graphic events of the night with Asher on my way to the opening.
After a few failed attempts to find all the locks, I finally wedged the window open just
enough to allow my body passage. I couldnt help but breathe a sigh of relief when I
finally ended up on the other side; not like Vincenzo could chase me down anytime
soon in his condition, but it felt safer knowing I got away clean.
But I didnt.
Below the spiraling staircase, I found myself jumping to the ground between the
apartment complexs back door and an abused metal trashcan. The impact of my
feet hitting the ground drew unnecessary attention, which would have never been a
problem if the person that turned to glance at me didnt have a particularly satisfied
look on his face. He eyed me a moment before turning to disappear down the street.
I pressed his expression out of my head, blaming my paranoia and internally assuring
myself I was only imagining things. My fingers continued to shake so I shoved them into
347

my pockets, stretching the fabric until my knuckles pressed against each other. The
narrow alleyway leading to the street ended with a batch of fresh air, along with a
bustle of mindless banter that oddly managed to soothe my nerves. I felt safe in the
masses. I knew I could disappear.
Pardon me, a man mumbled as he bumped against my side. When I turned to
glance at him, I found his eyes ready to snap onto my face. Tiny shards of ice stabbed
the inside of my stomach when he seemed to linger a second longer than necessary.
It was the same man I saw at the corner of the alleyway. I mouthed a voiceless Its
okay as he walked away, to the edge of the sidewalk, and pulled out a phone.
My chest pumped to the edge of hyperventilation; I couldnt control my breathing
or was that just my heart? The strangers eyes migrated to me again, following my
movement while his lips moved against the end of his cell phone.
No, stop, I told myself. Youre being paranoid.
My steps took me backward, bumping me into several innocent bystanders as I tried
to distance myself from the man on the phone. A woman cursed me, a couple
mourned my generation, and some kids pushed me away from thembut even that
wasnt enough for me to turn away from the stranger. I couldnt take my eyes off of
him, and as it seemed, he didnt take his off of me.
A horrifically familiar screeching came from the other side of the street seconds before
I reached the crosswalk. I was only one of the several heads that turned to watch a
dark blue van barrel past the yellow light to take a very dangerous left turn. It swerved
past a honking Volkswagen and attempted poorly to meld into the traffic.
The ridiculous, heavy, cold fear I felt before held nothing against the amount of sheer
horror that knocked into my chest at the sight of the face in the passenger window.
The woman sported the same dirty grin I remembered from the first night I saw her; the
night Porto died. She tilted her head to the side when she saw me, sending a mix of
red and brown bangs across her forehead, down over her cheek.
It took less than a second for the adrenaline to hit me. As quickly as my muscles
allowed, I raced back the way I came. Phone-man turned to race after me into the
alley, but he had a much harder time weaving through the foot traffic. I leapt up to
the last step of the fire escape, jerked my weight onto the surface, and bolted up the
stairs. The metal shook violently beneath my panicked steps, a harsh vibration that
echoed back with the added weight of my pursuer. I worked my legs as hard as I
could, up five stairs, ten, twenty; the coiled pathway suddenly seemed endless. The
amount of relief I felt at the sight of Ashers window only sped up my actions,
encouraging me to throw the damned thing open so I could dive inside.

348

My harsh collision with the table spurred the clatter of crutches from the other room, a
rhythmic tap tap tap that only reminded me further of the killers racing up the side of
the building. I didnt stop to think about wounds, blood, pain, my body only knew
enough to barrel to the door and straight into the hallway.
VINCENZO! I screamed, startling the Italian that was already limping in my direction.
THEYRE HERE!
What? he frowned, clearly not catching onto my urgency. Whos here?
The.. people! The ones from the night Porto died! They were scouting for me or
something and.. Shes with them, and.. I panted. And theyre coming! Up the
firescape! Right now! Theyre coming right now!
Calm down, idiot. I dont know what youre he paused when further clatter came
from Ashers office. We both turned to look into the room, past the open door, to the
angry man that struggled to squeeze in through the restricted opening. My room. Go.
NOW! he barked.
I listened. For once in my pathetic, miserable life, I listened. Even with his crutches,
Vincenzo kept up with me, racing down the hall and into the only door at the end. As
soon as he was in, I spun around to slap the door shut behind him. Somehow, flicking
the small lock on the back of the doorknob didnt make me feel any better.
I suspected Vincenzo felt the same because he immediately said, We need to
barricade the door.
By we, I was more than certain he meant me considering his physically crippled
state. But not only did I lack the upper body strength to move anything in the room, I
didnt think I had the time to attempt it alone. While I was busy doubting our chances
of survival, Vincenzo cleverly adapted to using one of the dressers in the room as a
crutch. He slid it along the wall, toward the door, managing to get it in place just as an
extensive amount of weight smashed into the other side.
The bed. Get the bed! he growled.
I hiccupped into action, proving myself as more of a hindrance than help when I
tripped over the rug in the middle of the room on my way to the bed. I was scared. I
was so fucking scared. The mattress felt like cement in my hands; heavy, hard, alien. I
raised it up, over and off the wooden frame, down onto the floor before grabbing the
edge of the skeletal structure. Vincenzo shoved another dresser beside the first while I
flipped the bed frame onto its side and tried to push it towards the door.
Idiot, he sighed. Get the mattress.
349

I didnt understand, but I obeyed. The mattress was much heavier than the frame,
though easier to move as the fabric slid with less friction than the textured wood. I
forced the large object as close to Vincenzo as my pathetic muscles let me, and
thankfully once close enough, he took over the job of positioning it.
Gun. Bathroom, he ordered.
I stumbled into the bathroom this time, to the two boxes I had seen before and the
two guns on the countertop. Just as I outstretched one hand out toward the seemingly
loaded weapon, a thick, obscure boom came from the other room. The impact of the
explosion shook the entire apartment, but it did not expand far enough to damage
our barricaded corner in the back of the complex. I raced back into the bedroom the
moment the world stopped shaking.
What was that? my voice sounded so far away.
Explosives, Vincenzo smirked openly, wrinkling the scarred tissue on the side of his
face. Explosives? Were they on the door? The door I was going to take? I barely had a
moment to appreciate my own luck when another disturbing sound echoed from the
other side of the room. Followed by another, and another. The quick succession of
popping sounds had both of us on our toes, staring wide-eyed at the measly
homemade protection. I realized then that the mattress was a shield, padding against
stray bullets that might have broken through the thickness of the wall. Wheres my
gun? he snapped. Bring one of the boxes, too.
I retrieved both desired objects for him after a few more seconds of staring awkwardly
at the attacked wall. It was becoming extremely difficult to keep myself together.
Guns, explosives, people set out to kill me.. it was all too much. Run, Alrick had
warned. Why didnt I do it sooner? Why didnt I find the note sooner?
I stood awkwardly in one corner while Vincenzo leaned on the back of the tilted
mattress, loading extra magazines with ammo. My eyes focused on the cadenced
movement of his fingers, pushing one bullet in, then another, and another, flowing
back and forth with practiced grace. I saw beauty in his actions, elegance in his
stance. There wasnt a doubt in my mind that hed been in a situation like this before.
Maybe we would survive, maybe the cripple would get us out of this. Asher would
come. The cavalry would arrive. All would be well again.
And then the window broke, and a ball exploded against the floor, expanding into
hundreds of brilliant shards. I thought faintly of the broken beer bottle before the
smoke filling the room suffocated me.

350

How?
How did they find me? That was the first thing on my mind. I was warned not to go
outside, but if they were already so close, did it really matter?
I awoke to a sick, eerie silence. My flesh tingled with needles, like every inch of my
body had fallen asleep and I was only now realizing it. Thousands of hushed voices
swam in my brain, breaking the silence and warming my ears, buzzing beneath my
skin. My head continued to spin from a chemical overdose my DNA was unfamiliar
with while my heart murmured dangerously in fear of what would become of me. Was
I really dead this time?
Was Vincenzo?
The effort to open my eyes felt devastatingly draining, especially because I couldnt
quite finish the job. Every time I stole a glimpse all I saw was black, and then my eyelids
would snap shut like hungry Venus flytraps. The back of my throat felt like sandpaper,
dry, rough, scratched and uncomfortably aching. A friend once told me that there
was no heaven or hell, that when we died we just remained forever trapped in our
coffins. Eternal limbo. Was she right? Was I stuck in eternal limbo?
You awake?
The extra voice heartened me enough to try opening my eyes again. Disregarding
how my eyelashes felt like theyd been glued to my cheeks, I tried to push them apart.
The darkness that greeted me wasnt exactly relieving. I would have thought myself
blind if it werent for the faint shifting on my right that caught my attention. Suddenly, I
became very aware of a warm body pressed against my side, allowing me to lean
against it. My back slanted alongside what I guessed to be a wall, and the floor was
cold, smooth rock? Stone.
Where are we? I croaked.
Paradise, an unfamiliar woman answered from my left. I snapped my head to the
side to follow the sound but my eyes failed to adapt enough to offer me details. The
darkness was too thick.
Were safe. For now, the earlier voice came, the man I had heard first. I turned to
peer back to my right where the warm body remained snug against me. You okay?
I dont know, I groaned. I felt awkward in my own body, like it was somehow too
tight, too small for me. Something rough brushed against my leg, something hard, and
I jumped up in surprise when the warmth beside me shifted for comfort. I hadnt yet
351

scrounged up the strength to stop leaning on the owner of the voice, so I found myself
moving with him. Careful hands wrapped around my shoulders, adjusting my posture
so that I was no longer slanted. I gasped at the ache I felt in my muscles, sore and dry
from the extended stationary position.
You tired? the man asked. I recognized his voice there was just an uncomfortable
lag that kept the name from formulating.
My eyes I tried.
Its fine. Sleep. Not like were going anywhere anytime soon, the voice sighed.
Hands moved me again, letting me lean, helping me stretch my body out. I didnt
know whose they were but I liked those hands. I trusted them. They held a firmness to
them that brought a sense of safety in a completely traumatizing, unknown situation. I
would have been freaking out without thembut with them, I was at peace. He
assured me it was okay to sleep, and I believed him.

The loud clatter of a door swinging open frightened my eyes open. The speed of
which my body snapped up left my head sheathed in the dark, creating incoherent
moments of confusion where I disconnected from my own existence. I winced as I
plastered one palm against my own forehead in an attempt to wean myself back
down, to stop my head from spinning.
Dont say a word, someone grunted in my ear.
I steadily peeked my eyes open to take in my surroundings, an action I immediately
regretted the moment details began to make sense. We werent in hell, or limbo, but
those seemed better options than the fucked up little room occupying around 30
people I didnt recognize. Some looked as confused as I felt, others there was
nothing but terror on their faces. They looked back at me, their eyes holding all the
agony in the world. It broke my heart just to meet their gaze.
You hear me? Not a word, he hissed again. I jerked my head up to the voice, to the
body I was selfishly using as my cushion. Vincenzo frowned back at me as he snaked
one hand between our bodies, locking his fingers around my wrist and lightly
squeezing in warning. I was about to find out why.
That one, that one and them, over there, a third party spoke before I could give
Vincenzo a piece of my mind. I rotated my skull back toward the door that had
opened, where four men obediently moved forward at the order of the fifth. I
352

watched in shock as they gathered up people around the room; a woman here, a
child there, two men and a young girl. They hauled them off the floor, not caring that
the child immediately burst into tears or that the girl practically tripped over her own
feet.
Where are they taking them? I gasped in shock.
Shh, Vincenzo warned me.
Whats going on here? I defied him. What are you doing?! Let go of them! my
voice escalated. I momentarily forgot that I was a coward. Oh, and that I couldnt
fight back. Speaking up then was pure stupidity, which I later blamed on the
disorientation I felt. Both of my legs moved to shift my weight, to propel me upward so I
could dart for the resistant victims, but the hand still holding onto me jerked back
down.
Shut your fucking mouth, the Italian hissed, threatening to break my wrist with the
force of his hold.
But theyre hurting them! I accused.
His attempts to save me all went to shit when the head honcho at the door turned to
glance in our direction. A slimy grin twisted his features, darkening the bags beneath
his eyes with unnecessary wrinkles. He circled to our side of the room, his gaze locked
on us. The closer he came, the tighter Vincenzo squeezed, until I could feel dull short
nails digging into the cove beneath my wrist. Fuck, that hurt.
Well lookie here. Fresh meat, the approaching man snickered, drawing everyones
attention to me. He crouched down in front of my folded legs and rudely reached out
to rest one hand on Vincenzos cast. Are you curious, little George? Anxious for your
first time?
I furrowed my eyebrows in response, unsure of his meaning. I didnt know where I was,
much less what these men were up to; my first time doing what? Just as I opened my
mouth, Vincenzo squeezed again, silently reminding me of his earlier warning. If that
wasnt enough, I caught a couple of heads around the room shaking in my direction,
giving warnings of their own. Hesitantly I refocused my eyes onto the man in front of
me, and after a moments struggle with my own pride, I dropped my head in silence.
No? You dont want to play? he snickered. Come on, Ill make it fun for you. My
heart sped up dramatically when one of his dirty, grimy hands stretched out toward
my face, ready to take what wasnt his. I sucked my breath and words in as I pressed
myself tight against the wall, bowing my body away from his touch. Once he was
within inches of his goal, a hand lashed out to stop itthe same hand that had earlier
353

been imprisoning my wrist. Vincenzo mercilessly twisted the strangers arm, down and
away from me, causing a high-pitched cry of alarm from the man. The unexpected
sound had guards running into the room.
Let go! one of the guards yelled, drawing his gun. The two behind him followed suit.
Vincenzo kept his gaze on the crouching man in front of me, waiting for actual eye
contact before he bothered to speak. Hes Elenas.
Whatever that meant in mobster-speak, it worked. The guards backed off while
Vincenzo released the twisted arm, freeing the ringleader. He stumbled back with an
equally shocked look on his face, his eyes darting from me to Vincenzo in search of
answers I could never give him. Well see about that, he mumbled.
Shaking the pain in his arm out, the leader backed away from us, two cautious steps
at a time. I got a brief glimpse of the people across the way before the lights shut off,
returning the entire room to pitch black. I counted three kids.
In the recess of missing light, murmurs grew brave enough to gain volume. Hushed
voices escalated, multiplying, growing louder, hitting the ceiling and bouncing back
off the walls. Not all of them were in English, and from those that were I could only pick
out a few of the many cries that surged.
Oh God, oh God.
Is she coming back, mommy?
They took him again.
Damned bastards.
Were gonna die here.
Well never get rescued.
Im so scared.
Where are we? I whispered into the dark.
Beats me, my Italian grunted.
Wh-what is this place? Some kind of human trafficking ring? The very thought turned
my stomach.

354

You could say that, he paused, shifting quietly beside me. Though I wouldnt use
the word human so lightly. They keep you here long enough, you forget what you
are.
And who who is Elena?
Trouble, Vincenzo answered. Which is what you got us into, again. I told you to
keep your mouth shut. Something blunt smacked into my stomach, a light tap with
heavy weight. I supposed it to be his hand. Drop the hero act, it wont save anyone.
If anything, itll only kill them faster.
But they were
Unaware of your presence. Now youre at the top of their list.
Why are we here? my voice cracked.
Luck, he answered matter-of-factly. They put us in the wrong room. Michael is
probably having a field day looking for you right now.
I exhaled so sharply that if my heart would flew out through my mouth, I wouldnt have
been surprised. My chest shuddered with the impact of the shock that ricocheted
through me. I chose initially not to trust my ears, but Vincenzo didnt catch onto my
rush of denial. And how could he? The solid darkness in the room didnt allow for our
eyes to register much information; he couldnt see the blood draining from my face, or
the slight tremble that ran through my tingling fingertips. He didnt see my fear.
Alricks note felt so heavy in my pocket.
Michael? The name tasted bitter on my tongue.
Yeah, who did you thi Are you shaking? he scoffed in disbelief.
No, I winced.
Are you scared? he teased.
No, I grunted stubbornly.
Yeah, me neither, he offered a soft, honest chuckle.
Im just cold I whispered. Before I could crumble into a heap of pathetic slush or
die of embarrassment, one arm swung over my shoulders, wrapped across my throat
and pulled me into an awkward hold.
355

His ability to connect without directly pointing out my flaws calmed me; he
succeeded in reminding me that I wasnt alone. I wouldnt disappear into the mass
that littered the room, faceless, lost, just objects to be used and traded. But that didnt
erase my fear. I shuddered uncontrollably in my conflict; mentally screaming at myself
to pull my psyche back together but finding one straw too short of regaining complete
composure. I had reached my limit of adventure and reckless abandon.
With that big mouth of yours, sometimes I forget youre just a kid, Vincenzo hummed.
I didnt bother arguing my age, it wouldve only made me look more childish just then.
Not like curling up into a fetal position looked any better, but my options seemed
limited. How could I not enjoy the comfort he offered? So many voices were panicking
in that room, questioning tomorrow, pondering their existence, whereas Vincenzo
calmly sat with me tucked beneath his arm. He grounded me. But why?
Why are you being nice to me? I asked cautiously.
Who says Im being nice?
Then why are you
Maybe Im just afraid of the dark.
I closed my eyes at his words, and despite myself a small smile warmed the corners of
my lips. When did this happen? When did the angry Italian that wanted to skin me
alive start soothing me?
Maybe he felt guilty.
Maybe this was his fault. Or maybe Fuck, I didnt know. Technically, it was my fault. I
dragged him into this by running back into the apartment instead of running in the
opposite direction.
Beside us, a woman began to sing. Other voices in the room hushed down to let hers
take over, and it seemed to do wonders for the mood. It was soothing, sweet; she held
a rich quality to her voice that made me wish for fairy tales and happy endings.
Everyone listened, there wasnt a single sound overlapping hers, which made me think
that this wasnt the first time shed shared her song with the others. How long had they
been here? Where were they all from?
What language is that? I asked.
Mandarin, Vincenzo responded quietly.
356

Do you know what shes saying?

Its a lullaby. Shes singing to her kid.
A sharp pang of pain ran through my chest. I cautiously withdrew my hands from my
lap to wrap them around my torso instead, tightly hugging my ribcage in a faint
attempt to keep myself together. We listened to her for what seemed like hours, her
song weaving in and out of our hearts; perhaps giving hope to some, but only
destroying mine. I had to wonder if I was being punished for something if whatever
god was out there put me through the obstacle course of Ashers life as a punishment
for my past deeds. And that mother? Her child? What did they do to deserve this?
Tell me something.
What? he sighed.
Something. Anything, I didnt want to hear her anymore. Do you know where we
are?
No.
Do you know why were here? I dont know if I would have been happier with a
yes or a no, but the worst thing he could have done at that moment was not
answer at allwhich is exactly what he did. He gave an ambiguous silence that
violently turned my stomach. You do, dont you?
You should have run when you had the chance.
What? I jerked my head up.
You thought I couldnt hear you sneaking out the window? It sounded like you were
wrestling a boar in the other room.
You knew I was sneaking out?! Why didnt you say anything?
What, I have to do everything for you? You want me to teach you how to sneak out,
too?
Fuck off, I snapped. A push at his ribcage freed me from beneath the cover of his
arm, swaying me back against the wall. Did he think I was just running away or did he
know about Alricks note? I pressed both hands against my face, pushing them up
and through my hair as I breathed steadily against my inner arm. I wished things would
get easier instead of complicated for once.

357

Dont overreact, he groaned.

This is how normal people react. They get upset when necessary information vital to
their survival is withheld from them, I sniped.
Youre normal now?
Shut up.
What good would it do you to find out? Do you think knowing why youre here will
magically open that door, or call for help? It wont undo or stop anything.
Itll make me feel better.
You really think so?
Yes, I huffed, even though I failed to believe myself. Knowing why wouldnt change
anything, he was right, but it would help me make sense of things. It would help put
everything into perspective; my head wouldnt rattle with questions that only
multiplied when I sought out answers, and I was convinced my future decisions would
be better made. Maybe. Just tell me, okay? Tell me what I did to deserve all this.
His sigh echoed from the darkness, hinting at exhaustion and strain. You didnt do
anything.
What is that supposed to mean? I frowned.
Nothing. Forget it.
Wait a minut
Stop talking, he grunted.
What, you got something better to do?
Yeah, actually I was thinking of heading out to meet the girls.
I see this place hasnt improved your sense of humor.
Oh what do you know about sense of humor?
I quieted down when I realized ours were the only two voices still jabbering. Beside the
occasional hushed whisper, it seemed as if everyone else was listening to us. I leaned
forward with my hands flat against the floor, balancing myself so I could remain
358

upright in the dark. Hello? I redirected my volume toward the room. How many
people are here?
20, a woman answered.
30, someone else corrected.
They took five, a man hissed.
Theyll take more, another woman growled. They always take more.
And your names? What are your names? I whispered.
Drop it, hero, Vincenzo warned.
Adela.
Kathy.
Anton.
Im Jin.
Names Marcus.
You cant save them, Goomba, Vincenzo murmured while the list of names
continued. Dont get attached.
How can you say that? I hissed. These are people. Human beings. They cant be
treated like this!
Well arent you just a bleeding heart, he scoffed.
I pointedly moved away from him, ignoring his indifference so I could continue to
search for answers. Do you know why youre here? Who brought you here?
This time, no answer came.
On cue, the door swung open. The light spilling in from the hall was enough to blind us,
but they added more by switching on the fluorescent lights above. A few groans of
protest filled the room, followed by a rush of footsteps flooding in through the opening.
I managed to blink the spots of black away just in time to see dear Michael marching
toward my corner, gun in hand. He walked right up to us, flung his arm forward and
pulled the trigger.
359

The pop didnt immediately register in my brain. It was a burst of air, a wisp of wind, the
muffled sound of a pellet bursting from its designated holding during a game of
paintball with my brother. I wouldnt have even noticed it if I didnt pause, if I didnt
look up beside me, two inches above eyelevel to the right, where blood flowed
effortlessly from Vincenzos chest.
Thats for Rome, Michael smirked as he lowered his gun. After a quick glance to me,
he turned and marched back out of the room.
FUCK! Vincenzo gasped in pain, his hand immediately smashing against the
wounded area. The cast kept him stationary, sitting in the corner like a broken doll. I
knew that if he could move, his hand wouldnt be the only thing flying up.
I gasped, springing up onto my knees to tower over him. He grunted softly when I
pressed my hands down against the growing circle of red on his shirt, the sticky, warm
liquid that I detested so much. My head and stomach both spun at the mere idea of
blood on my hands, but I didnt recoil. I couldnt tell where hed been shot; the arm,
shoulder, chest? Blood seeped vertically into the fabric.
I didnt want him to die.
He dodged my gaze but his hand closed over mine, pressing it tighter against his
wound. Listen to me Michael! Listen to me! He doesnt know! Its a lie, its all a
fucking lie!
Grab him, Michael muttered.
Michael, DONT! Vincenzo protested.
A thick arm wrapped around my stomach, tightening against my body so it could
swing me up from the floor. VINCENZO! I wailed helplessly as they ripped me away
from him, jerking my body out of the room without my permission. My arm itched
where he clawed at my skin, where strips of warm blood stained my arm when he tried
to hold onto me.
He doesnt know.. he doesnt know anything was the last thing I heard my
bleeding, crippled Italian say before the door slammed shut.

I stared dejectedly down the hall, to the metal door that moved further and further
away from me. One hall turned into two, three; doors and walls meshed into one

360

streaming marquee of plain color. Everything was the same color. No windows, only
doors. I tried to memorize all the twists and turns we took, but I lost track a few times.
My throat was so hoarse by the time we got to an actual room that I inevitably
quieted down. The muscleman carrying me waltzed over to a chair and flipped me
down into place, using enough force to send me flying off the edge seconds after
making contact. I tried to brace myself against the impact with the floor but I was too
disorientated to keep myself upright. My head smacked against a wall and I rolled
over, flat on my back.
So, I heard Michaels voice from the other end of the room. Heres the deal.
Footsteps clicked across the stone floor, carrying his weight forward until he was in my
line of sight. You tell me everything or I beat you black and blue again.
I didnt speak. My mind was still locked onto the image of Vincenzos bloody hand
trying to hold onto me.
Hard way it is, he grinned. It didnt surprise me in the least to find pleasure in his
expression; I already knew he enjoyed hurting others.
Swooping down, he grabbed a fistful of my sweaters collar to pull me up byI
staggered, not expecting the intensity of the jerk, but it didnt matter that I couldnt
stand up straight because a harsh punch had me back on the floor. He picked me up
again, and again, this time finding satisfaction in watching me fall instead of kicking
me while I was down.
He stunned me on the first few punches, but when I hit the floor the fourth time I found
enough bearings to dash for the only objects in the room; a table and a chair. When
he lunged at me again, I chucked the chair back at him. My attempt did nothing to
slow down the grinning beast charging me. His arms hooked onto my waist, wrapped
around my width and plowed me straight into the table.
Get up, he panted, grabbing at my sweater again. Get up! I didnt need to, he
was already pulling me up. Feel like talking yet?
Sure, I coughed. What do you want to know? Age, sex, location? There wasnt a
shred of information I could give him that would satisfy any of his needs. I knew nothing
that helped him; no names, no locations or opportunities. In fact, I was sure the only
person still in the dark was me.
Tough guy, huh? he snickered sadistically. Well see how much you have to say
after Im done with you. Ill break you yet.

361

Shit, I exhaled against his next punch, straight to my newly healed stomach. I
staggered back against the wall without anything to hide behind and another fist
came to greet me. You hit like a girl, I snarled. And I mean that in the worst way
possible. That is, the 8 to 12 age group.
I got a harsh punch to the face for that, but it was well worth Michaels annoyed
expression. A defiant grin curled my lips as I sat up, displaying pseudo courage where
fear would have been preferred. The predictable sneer on his face felt empowering.
He needed to prove his strength to me; that gave me some standing.
If you dont start talking in the next six seconds, he began, taking two steps toward
me before crouching to my level. Im going to walk out of this room. I will then return
with a pair of pliers. And do you know what Im going to do with those pliers?
Yeah, I had an idea. Torture. Cut a chain-link fence? I suggested instead.
Im going to pull out your fingernails one by one. And when Im done with those, Ill
remove the ones on your toes.
What happens after that? I dared.
I go for your eyelids.
Despite myself, I winced my eyes shut. Look I dont know anything. So I cant tell
you anything.
Seeing as youre Ashers new pet project, I highly doubt that, Michael scoffed.
Right, everything circled back to Asher. I almost forgot. Consequently my thoughts
clicked from the ice king to his men. Why did you shoot Vincenzo?
After a slight pause, Michael cocked both eyebrows up. I owed him one. Why do you
care?
Because hes my friend! I spoke, once again, without thought. He wasnt my friend,
not at all. So why had I said that? Why couldnt I stop thinking about the cripples halfassed hug with his arm wrapped around my neck? Why couldnt I shake the image of
him bleeding out? Dying?
Was he? my tormentor slowly smirked. His use of the past tense stabbed needles into
my throat, where a frog was already perched against the interior. Well hes dead
now.
Liar, I croaked.
362

You dont believe me? he chuckled.

If you wanted to kill him, you would have shot him in the head. It was just a hopeful
assumption.
Maybe I wanted him to bleed out. Nice and slow.
You wouldnt, I swallowed. Instinctively, my teeth burrowed into my lower lip. After a
teasing smirk, Michael grabbed a fistful of my hair to jerk me up, right to my feet. His
tug led me out of the room, down another hall, screwing with the messy map in my
head as he took further twists and turns.
The next door that opened didnt just lead to another room; it unleashed an array of
sick, stomach churning sounds. From the hall, I heard nothing, but as soon as Michael
dragged me inside all that met my ears were screams. Sick, blood curdling screams.
Beneath the agonized cries, I identified drilling and the strange hum of a machine.
Michael marched to one end of the room where an odd wooden chair stood out
against the sheen, metal accessories around it. He immediately took a seat, using
gravity to his advantage to floor me. I crumpled onto my knees beside the chair legs
and he finally allowed me to look up.
She screamed again.
Strapped across a table, the badly bruised body of a woman well into her thirties
twisted in an inhumanely awkward angle. I gasped at the discoloration on her skin, the
dried blood on her face, and with a brief recollection of my own wounds I reached up
to drag a sleeve across my lips. The ache hadnt settled into my bones yet; the fear
and adrenaline of my tussle with Michael kept me numb to his abuse. As it were, he
found another way to break me.
What is this? I hissed.
What Im capable of, he laughed. The sound in no way seemed like a laugh to me,
it was thin and scratchy, not welcoming or appealing to listen to; he sounded like a
beaten hyena. I tried not to picture myself strewn across the metal bed, but my
imagination ran away from me. It added a few unnecessary devices as well; like
scalpels, pliers, and abnormally large needles.
I forgot to factor in how Michael wasnt quite so civilized.
As my ears adapted to the shrieks of the woman, I realized that she wasnt just
screaming, she was begging. For her life, her family, with a constant please pitched
in between. From my position, I couldnt see what they were doing to hera mans
363

bent torso blocked her midsection, towering over a sheet of white. But to draw out
sounds like that? Fuck, I didnt want to know.
I warned you, Hannah. This is what happens when you double cross me, Michael
droned. I knew he was talking more to me than her, and I hastily blinked my gaze
away from her when she twisted her neck in our directionthe quick glimpse I got of
her agonized expression sucked out the air in my chest.
The fingers clutching my skull cautiously retracted, pausing a moment to make sure I
didnt make a run for it before they completely broke contact. I remained immobile
on the floor while the chair to my left squeaked painfully. The pit pit of his shoes was
never more terrifying than when a scream was there to greet it. Like a coward, I
doubled over, clamping my hands against my ears so tightly that my skull began to
ache from the pressure. I didnt want to hear anymore; not her screams, not Michaels
shoes, not the mother singing to her kid.
Clattering metal echoed past my flesh, stabbing at the edges of my curiosity, teasing
my eyes upward. I shuddered, squeezing my eyelids as tightly as I could. My hands
couldnt stop the noise, only muffle the inescapable; the sounds.. oh god, her screams.
I gasped frantically, tears stinging the surface of my eyes with a fury. My throat
vibrated with every breath I couldnt complete, every plea she released into the
vastness of the room. Stop it, I whined. Please stop, my words echoed hers.
For the first time in years, I prayed. I prayed for it to stop, the agony, the torture, the
screams that never ceased to drop in volume. I prayed for rescue, for Asher or
Vincenzo, for Alrick, for help.
It didnt come.
Instead, a hand closed around my right wrist and propelled me upward. It pulled me
toward the door, past it, straight toward the woman on the table. I gasped as pressure
closed on either side of my jaw, redirecting my face toward the victim on the table.
My eyes didnt listen to my brains command to shut. They didnt stop. My gaze
snapped to her body like a taunted magnet.
Leather straps stretched across her wrists, her neck, keeping her tight against the table.
I met her eyes in a moments passing and to my revulsion, found no life in them. The
once blue circles were fixed on the ceiling, half lidded, the lashes weighed down with
fresh tears. No life. There was no life. The golden locket dipped into the grove of her
neck, twinkling beneath the sharp fluorescent light only accented the lack of light in
her eyes. Hesitantly, my gaze moved down her body, to the part of the torso that had
been hidden before. Blue latex gloves were still buried in a pool of bloodand they
retracted as I watched, fetching a body part I shouldnt have recognized.

364

They were harvesting her organs.

My eyes flickered back up to her face, to the faintly parted lips, the lack of breath that
should have warmed the surface. She was dead. Dead. But how could that be? The
screams hadnt stopped; they echoed over and over in my ears, cracking down the
edge of my nerves. Only after searching for the source did I realizeshe wasnt the
one screaming. It was me.
I was still screaming.
Michael spun to throw me away from him when the contents of my stomach purged
from my system. His laugh pierced the room as my stomach acid singed my throat. At
that point, I would have been happy just blacking out. My mind refused me even that
small favor; everything was so vivid, so real, I couldnt shut down with the sounds and
smells still tingling my skin.
From the corner of my eye, I could see the other man in the room close the white lid of
a blue cooler with his bloody, blue latex gloves. He then picked up the object and
calmly waltzed out of the room. How could they? How could they be so heartless?
Monsters from the dark edges of humanitys imagination didnt seem so scary
anymore when I saw what mere humans were capable of doing.
You cant save them, Vincenzo had warned me. Dont get attached.
I turned to glance back toward the table, my mind a maze of screams and
unnecessary imagery. Michael stood beside the corpse, taking a moment to take in
the result of his insanity before he reached out toward her. Seconds later, his hand
returned to his side with a gold chain hanging from his grip. That heartless fuck.
I snapped.
With his back to me, I found enough audacity to dash to my feet. He might have
heard me coming, but I doubt he expected me to be so stupid as to reach for the gun
still tucked neatly in the back of his pants. My right hand pushed at his shoulder blades
while my left snatched the alien object, jerking it free of his belt.
Heavy. The gun was so heavy. I found myself once again thinking of paperweights, of
rocks and paint and tiny fingers. I had to wonder, was the dead woman a mother? I
pulled the weapon up in front of me, using both hands to stabilize the weight as I
backed away from the grinning psychopath.
Stay away from me, my wispy, broken voice didnt sound in anyway threatening.
Michael easily caught onto that.

365

Youre not going to shoot me, he tempted me with a slimy grin.

I swear to fucking god, Ill blow your brains out, I panted hysterically.
Youre too much of a coward to pull the trigger, kid. Just give it to me before you
accidentally shoot yourself. He outstretched one hand toward me, taking a slow step
forward. I backed up. Come on. You dont have the guts.
No, I didnt. He was right. I was nothing but a coward, a frightened, useless kid caught
in a mess I didnt understand. My grip rattled the gun, teetering it off balance as I tried
to blink the haze of shock and horror from my eyes. I was so angry, but I couldnt do
this. I needed help. Help. Somebody help.
He continued to approach me, the necklace still dangling in his grip and spraying
beams of gold where the reflective surface caught the light. Hannah. The dead
womans name was Hannah. He had killed Hannah. A violent shiver rocked up the line
of my arm, rattling the gun as well as my sense of balance. Michael noticed my
moment of weakness and took the opportunity to lunge at me. I freaked out.
And pulled the trigger.
The silencer kept the detonation of the bullet to a dull pop, which I barely heard over
my own pulse, but I saw the explosion. In a blast of orange, yellow and red, the slide
on the barrel clicked back toward me. Never had I fired a real gun before; I didnt
know how to hold it, where to put my fingers or how to balance it. The slider clicked
back with such force that it cleanly broke the delicate bone in my right thumb. I cried
out in pain, quickly dropping the weapon as I backed away from it.
When it hit the floor, Michaels eyes were as wide as mine. He took two unsteady steps
back and collapsed at the edge of the table, clutching at his chest. I cradled my
aching hand against my stomach as I put my own desired distance between us. What
just happened? Hissed wheezes delayed past his paling lips, hinting at the horrific
amount of effort it took him to breathe. Still his dark eyes stared up at me defiantly,
continuously trying to prove his strength to me.
I might have shot the beast but he was nowhere near dead. He actually dared to
make an attempt for the gun and thankfully my proximity allowed me to get to it first. I
favored my right hand by keeping it out of the way as I snatched the weapon with my
left. My arm burned with the strain of lurching the gun upright. It was hard enough with
two hands, how was I supposed to balance it with one?
Oh shit, came a voice from the open doorway.

366

The new addition to the messy equation caused further panic; like an idiot, I spun the
weapon up again in a mindless attempt at self-defense. The ease of which I pulled the
trigger the second time didnt feel real to me. I didnt realize what I did until the
newcomer was howling in pain.
Holy shit! Dont shoot, dont shoot! It was Michaels friend, the nameless one Id last
seen in Ashers home. He held one hand up toward me in mimed surrender while the
other clutched at the freshly acquired wound on his leg. Im unarmed!
I didnt mean to shoot. I didnt mean to hurt him. Fuck, what was I supposed to do
now? Run? To where? Michael groaned from the floor, snapping me out of my
thoughts by reminding me of his presence. I blinked away the tears birthed by the
break of my thumb and commanded my eyes to focus on the new intruder. He
slanted his weight against one wall and his hand closed over the wound in his leg
where the bullet buried into the soft flesh of his thigh. I highly doubted he would just
forget what he saw if I let him leave, but I didnt think I had it in me to purposely pull
the trigger. I didnt even think I could keep the gun up any longer.
Motherfucker! the newcomer groaned, earning another jolt out of me. I sputtered a
gush of air and backed up, rearing the barrel toward his face. Wait! Im not the one
you want!
What? My panicked mind attempted non too successfully to wrap around his
statement, but it all dissolved into ashes in the end. What? I tried out loud.
Dont kill me. Its not my fault. I can.. I-I-I can help you!
How could he possibly help me? Was he the help I prayed for? But no, he was one of
Michaels friends. One of his men. He wouldnt help me, I had just shot him.
Dont shoot. Dont kill me! he grimaced.
His accusation made me feel dirty. I wasnt a killer was I? My arm rippled with a
spasm from the extra effort it took to keep my guard up. Guilt and morals beaten into
my system tugged on the strings holding me together. I felt my muscles slowly migrate
down toward the floor, leaving me as vulnerable and helpless as I felt.
Its Asher! Asher is the one you want. Everything thats happened to you, its all his
fault! he gushed.
My hand continued to lower. I stretched against the borders of my being, trying
desperately to understand. I attempted another What? but my voice was far beyond
my own reach. I couldnt even blink.

367

Spineless fuck, Michael growled from the floor. Im going to fucking kill you.
I tensed up with his taunt, not doubting it for a second. Michael shifted on the floor, still
trying to recover from the shock and the pain of my outburst. I knew the longer I
remained in that room, the shorter my lifeline became. The nameless one noticed my
discomfort, which he probably assumed would teeter me off the handle again
because he tried to soothe me; L-listen to me. Im telling you the truth, its all Ashers
doing. Its his fault youre even here!
The throbbing pain in my right hand reminded me of my mortality, which I found less
and less important as events unfolded. Adrenaline was the only thing in my blood
stream, the only thing that kept me upright. My pulse hadnt died down in my ears
there was nothing short of screams still echoing in the back of my mind. I was already
in the midst of justifying Michaels soon-to-come death to myself. My sanity begged
me to put reason behind impulse.
I wanted answers.
Alright, I agreed, my voice only a whisper on the wind. Talk.

368

Youre a scapegoat.
I stared at him blankly, opening my chaotic thoughts to his drastic claims. I didnt have
to ask any questions for once, it seemed the nameless man was more than eager to
spill what he knew. It didnt escape my attention that his eyes continuously darted to
the object that threatened his well beingthe gun but he didnt attempt to move
toward me so I felt no need to raise it from my side.
Theres an alias on you. Alex Sanchez. Sound familiar? Every paper on the street has
that name under your picture. Youre supposed to be some badass from Spain, he
paused nervously, glancing down at Michael. When I followed his gaze, I found
Michael deliciously confused. It seemed this was all news to him.
Maybe his friend was lying.
The nameless guy snapped his attention back to me, hastily continuing his story. Asher
was using you to start a war. He spread enough rumors to make you look like a threat
to everyone, he paused, throwing another glance Michaels way. Then the moment
someone took you out, hed have a reason to step in.
I felt so disconnected from the situation. Surely he wasnt talking about me. Honestly,
how could anyone think me a threat?
Dont you get it? You were supposed to die, he promised. From the very beginning,
you were supposed to die. Hes the reason Michael fucked you up! The reason people
are shooting at you!
I furrowed my eyebrows together as my skull slowly rotated back and forth, lightly
rocking with my own denial. If I was supposed to die, I would be dead. Asher interfered
too many times to run to my rescue for me to believe he planned my death in the first
place. Nothing this guy said made sense.
Why me? I tried.

369

I-I dont know! Why not you? It doesnt fucking matter, it is you, he yelled hysterically.
My lips dripped into a frown, displaying my dislike for his response, and he grunted in
frustration before attempting to reassert himself. Look.. wait.. look, just hold on. I dont
know why he chose you. It could have been anyone. You were probably just there at
the wrong place, wrong time. But if you think about it, youre a pretty good
candidate. You hold no real significance to him. You have a past that could explain
uncontrollable violence, no steady job, no real family, and most of the time no one
knows what youre up to when youre out on the streets. All Asher has to do is fill in the
blanks. You practically made it easy for him.
He was starting to sound a little smug.
My eyes traveled down to Michael, who had grown uncharacteristically silent. He sat
with his hand tucked against the dark spot on his shirt, reminding me dimly of
Vincenzo. I didnt want to look away from him, but the nameless one shifted away
from the wall and swayed his weight forward. My gaze snapped up.
Im telling the truth, he assured me. Think back to everything hes put you through.
Doesnt it seem out of place? Yeah, it did, everything in my life nowadays seemed
out of place. What was his point? He did this to you. It was Ashers fault. He didnt
care if you died, he just wanted to profit from your death.
Why me? my conscience asked again. Wrong place, wrong time defined my
relationship with Asherbut what if it wasnt all coincidence? My thoughts raced back
to the boat incident, to when he barely knew me and yet dragged me onto a boat
knowing full well what he had in his briefcase. And the night when Porto died? He
knew where he was taking me; he knew the risk of driving me into the dangerous zone
where a meeting with guns was going to take place minutes later. Even the night
Michael found me at the library how did he know where I was? How did he find me?
And why was he so angry?
I found myself staring at Michael again. He sat deep in thought, glaring at the space
between his feet, probably doubting his life like I did. My lips parted, already dry and
itching to ask his side of the storywas it true? Did he know something else?
Asher told him you were trying to steal his territory, the nameless one cued in when I
didnt take my eyes off of Michael. He riled him up. I was there, remember? I heard
everything. He said you were trying to sway him away from a deal Michael set up.
I tightened the back of my throat, attempting desperately to release my voice, but I
only uttered a dry, rotten gasp. Michael hissed an angry curse and my heart
crumbled. Maybe the nameless stranger wasnt lying.

370

I didnt know what to feel anymore. Not like I didnt have a lot of optionsthere were
too many; anger, betrayal, fear, sorrow, hatred, loathing betrayal. I felt so betrayed.
Even the runaway car could have been set up by him. Even this, this fucked up place,
might have been all Ashers doing. Soft trembles shook my fingers, numbing the center
of my palm as the gun began to slip from my grip. My peripherals assured me that the
nameless man was limping his way toward me, but I didnt care. He cooed another
soft but nervous promise that he only wanted to help me as he reached forward.
Give me the gun now, okay? Just hand it over I only want to help, he kept his tone
low, nonthreatening, and sure enough I didnt budge when he stretched to hook his
index finger onto the heavy barrel. Gingerly he withdrew the weapon from my grip,
disarming me without the slightest inch of resistance on my part.
A sigh of relief coursed through his lungs the moment I was no longer a threat. I didnt
notice the change in his expression, or the way his eyes darkened when he had the
gun in his grip. I didnt see his satisfaction until yet another pop filled the empty space
in the room.
My eyes shot up to the angle of his arm, the downward tilt that formed a straight line
to the fallen psychopath. A bright circle of red called my attention, like the last dot on
the inside of a dartboard, which I was surprised to find on a human being. Confusion
bubbled against my temples, hazing up my vision when I redirected my eyes to the
nameless man. My lips parted in question, but I couldnt speak. I couldnt believe it.
He had killed Michael.
The lifeless body remained slumped to one side, head bowed and chin planted
against the chest; his defiant dark eyes remained open, glaring forward, but the
bleeding bullet wound on his forehead guaranteed hed never blink again.
Why?
I took two steps back and slapped my good hand against my mouth. There was no
energy left to scream, I didnt have it in me to feel anything except dread. The
nameless one frowned down at the open barrel before he looked up to me. In one
smooth swipe, he traded the empty gun for a scalpel from the tray of surgical tools
beside Hannahs bed. No hesitation. No regret. With his arm still in the same trajectory,
he swung the sharp tool up.
My first reaction was to throw both hands up defensively in front of me; but while that
saved me from Vincenzos booze, it didnt stop the scalpel that dipped beneath my
arms to pierce my stomach.

371

Nothing personal, he admitted, keeping his voice even as he shoved the thin steel
deeper into my gut. But like I said, youre supposed to die.
Colors blurred all over again. I didnt know if that was my mental breakdown or the
pained tears rushing into my eyes.
The scalpel jerked completely free of my flesh, rotated, and stabbed again. A gasp
tore through my lips as my eyes elevated up to the nameless strangers face. He
immediately took a step back, scowling at the trembling fingers that clung helplessly
to his shirt. With a scoff, his free hand shoved me awaymy shoulders smacked
against the wall a few steps back, reverberating a tremble in my bones that eventually
buckled both knees.
I fell on my side, my lips still parted in a silent scream. Black sneakers shuffled in my line
of sight, one dragging while the other pulled its weight. Both shoes migrated toward
the doorway, out into the hall, and paused only to let the door close behind them.
And everything became still.
I blinked the moisture out of my eyes, but it didnt clear up my vision in the least. It hurt.
A fistful of tacks rattled in my core, branching out from the edges of the blade still
imbedded in my gut; every breath that I took hurt. Was I supposed to take it out?
Perhaps it would only make matters worse if I did.
Just laying there didnt seem like the best choice, either. But my body felt weighted,
heavy, and even when I tried to raise my hand up my muscles remained
uncooperative. After mentally begging myself for what felt like an eternity, I managed
to roll onto my back, which I thought would make breathing easier for me but alas it
did not.
At least I didnt have to stare at Michaels silhouette anymore.
I redirected my eyes to the ceiling, to the little grooves and cracks that hinted at time.
It was strange, but the dominant thought past all the self-pitying Why me? and Why
did this happen? was just a simple, firm, Finally. Finally, after all that torment and
torture, I was going to die.
How long was it going to take? The silence was already so unbearable. I was in a room
of deaththe only sound audible to my ears proved to be the echo of my own
strained breath. So I closed my eyes, hopeful, and thought of the Chinese lullaby. I
thought of my own moms humming, of her delicate fingers strumming her guitar
beside the fireplace. She smiled at me past the soft waves of her hair and her sweet
green eyes sparkled.

372

Vanilla.
My mom always smelled like vanilla. Her hair, the nape of her neck, the lingering scent
left on her clothesalways vanilla. I used to bury my face into her pillow when she
wasnt home and just get lost in her scent. She smelled so good.
My eyelids rolled open when the pressure of my tears grew too much. I hissed softly in
pain and tilted my head down to glance at the shiny piece of metal protruding from
the bulk of my sweater. Was that really in me? God, how long was it going to take for
me to die? How long would it take me to bleed out?
Nice and slow, Michaels voice echoed in the midst of my memories.
I raised my hand up toward the slender steel handle, ready to grab it and jerk it free
when my mind once again wandered off. The dried red on my fingers distracted me,
drawing me to the prelude of blood. Why wasnt I fainting? Blood surrounded me on
every corner and yet I was wide awake, staring at the thick color coating my skin.
Maybe I was already dead. Maybe Michael finished the job before I even came into
this room.
Maybe it was all a dream.
I was using the word maybe a lot lately. Was it hope or denial? I grinned at my own
stupidity as my hand dropped back to the floor, falling uselessly against my outer
thigh. If I just waited, Id either wake up or die what did I have to lose, right?
Breathing through the pain was going to be a challenge thoughdream or not,
having a scalpel shoved into my stomach was in no way pleasant.
I dont know how long I laid there, but surprisingly I never completely clicked out. My
mind wavered in and out of passing thoughts and while my vision grew progressively
fuzzy, nothing ever went black. Wide awake. I was wide awake and couldnt fall
asleep. I couldnt pass out.
I remember hearing the door open at some point. I remember soft footsteps and the
distinctive, recognizable cylinder of a gun pointed to my head. I remember a sigh. I
remember looking up at the blurry outline of a face and hoping theyd pull the trigger.
I remember crying.
And then, voices.
Holy mother of God, someone gasped from far away. Faster footsteps. A soft curse.
Warmth touched my face and I blinked again to regain my sense of time. The closer
the person leaned, the easier details became to recognize. Alrick hovered over me,
his face a perfect mask of concern. His bright blue eyes widened only after seconds of
373

studying me. Did I look that bad? He quickly leaned back toward the doorway with a
harsh yell, DANIEL! IN HERE!
More footsteps. So many footsteps. I closed my eyes when the haziness became too
much to follow; my head was already spinning and I didnt want it to go any faster.
Is he okay? Alrick swallowed.
Hes lost a lot of blood. I presumed that to be Daniel. I dont know how deep the
wound is. A pause. I felt the fabric of my sweater rise from my lower stomach, emitting
a sick tearing sound. Cold air licked my skin, gingerly suctioning the warmth that my
clothes had incubated as my layers were removed in succession. I can stabilize him
now, but we need to get him back right away if you want any chance of him surviving
this. He needs a transfusion.
Silence.
What should I do? Daniel asked hesitantly.
More silence.
Asher! Alrick barked, rage evident in his tone.
I willed my eyes to open, for my pupils to redirect and lock onto the tallest hazy form I
saw. No barrel this time, but the body still towered over me; no pity, no remorse. Was
he trying to disconnect from the situation or was he weighing the pros and cons of
letting me die? I found myself smiling, internally laughing at myself.
I need an answer, Daniel prodded uneasily.
You can stabilize him? Asher finally spoke.
Yes, Daniel said confidently.
Then do it.
Hands invaded my privacy again, stripping me, baring my chest. In a moments span,
the pain in my stomach grew sharp and dulledas soon as the scalpel was removed,
pressure replaced it, pushing down on the sore flesh of my gut. I must have released
some residue of the ongoing scream in my head because Alrick cooed a soft Shh, its
okay and a warm hand brushed against my forehead.
A pinprick on the inside of my arm brought forth mental images of needles of
Hannah, of Michael, of the bright blue latex gloves. I groaned again, causing the
374

hand on my head to grow firm in its force. Another prick on my stomach brought my
eyes down to the two men kneeling on either side of my torso. I couldnt make out
what Daniel had in his hands, but he worked quickly with them, confident and sure of
every action he carried out. No, I wanted to tell them. Stop. I dont want your help.
Daniel, his hand, Alrick hissed. Whats wrong with his hand?
Its broken, came the response, sounding awkwardly surprised. Looks like just the
thumb. Here. The sound of a zipper echoed in the stillness of the room. Something
snapped in half. My throbbing wrist was removed from the stone floor, wrapped in
warmth and bent against my chest. Cant do anything about it here, he murmured,
his voice distant.
Ill take him back. You two Ashers voice peaked, only to be cut off by a very
disgruntled German.
No, the platinum blonde growled. I got him.
I wanted to smile again. Never had I heard Alrick speak to his boss so disrespectfully,
with no explanation or standing. His thick arms dipped under my weight, one pushing
against my neck while the other rounded beneath my knees. New appreciation for
heights hit me when he lifted me up, consequently creating a soft breeze with the
quick movement that fluttered against my face.
I got you, he assured me, his voice lower, softer. Did I make a sound? My lips were
wide open but I still couldnt find access to my voice box. Did he hear something I
didnt? Youre safe now, kiddo. I got you. I got you, he murmured. Everythings
going to be okay. Just close your eyes. Youre safe now.
In my head, it wasnt me Alrick was soothingit was his daughter. I wondered, did her
eyes light up when she saw him? Did she squeal in delight and hug her daddy tight?
How did he ever have the heart to leave her?
Even with his advice, his assurance, I couldnt close my eyes. Despite the dizziness and
the unclear quality of the world around me, I stared forward with the indistinct intent of
remaining conscious. The lights overhead marched in and out of my fuzzy view,
reminding me of the windowless walls. Everything was one color. A marquee of plain
death. Only when the messy map in my head announced itself like an annoying popup did I finally realize what was keeping me awake.
Vi.. vin.. I tried, my voice barely a breath away.
Vincenzo? Alrick finished the name for me, a warm smile touching his face. Hes
alright.
375

I exhaled in utter relief. It didnt matter why, or how they found us, only that he was
alright. Alright meant alive. Finally, I let go of the image in my head of Vincenzo's
bloody hand holding onto my arm and I closed my eyes.

The problem with having time to myself is that more often than not, I end up overthinking. This usually leads to fucking up situations that should, ultimately, be easily
resolved.
Two days. I kept track of two days spent in Ashers room until even time became too
much for me to follow. The sun set, it rosepeople came and went from the room,
whispering, murmuring, sometimes to me, mostly to someone else, and I remained
catatonic. Trauma, Daniel claimed, but that wasnt it. I just didnt have the will.
I didnt have the will to live anymore.
Food didnt appear appetizing, water proved a hindrance, and movement was out of
the question. I reacted much the same way after the car accident six years ago that
gobbled up my familyI didnt speak, eat, or move for weeks. The shock of losing
them left me as nothing more than an empty shell.
Six years ago, Anna didnt give up on me. Every morning, at exactly nine oclock, she
would slide into my room with a plate full of muffins and the hope that I would speak.
Blueberry, chocolate chip, corn, cinnamon, almond everyday was a new recipe
even though I barely touched them. One day, she didnt come into my room. She
didnt bring me muffins. I waited for two hours before I bothered to crawl out of my
bed and into the living room. Zack found me lingering in front of the kitchen, peering
inside where I hoped to find the sweet old woman that always brought me muffins.
What do you need, hun? he smiled at me, and I told him.
Muffin, I whispered. I wanted muffins, Annas muffins. After that he started calling me
muffin-boy, which very quickly became plain ol Muffin.
Soon it was the only name I responded to, the same name Alrick used when he
entered the room day after day, holding a turkey sandwich in one hand and diluted
water in the other. He tried to sway me into eating, but I remained unresponsive. Now

376

and then, I would risk a bit of water, but even that was avoided because I didnt want
to get up to pee. Too much effort.
Not only had I grown lazy, I was unmotivated.
I was in a numb sense of auto-drive, mindlessly living without ever focusing on
concrete thoughts or details. The dark tales of Asher left me in a twisted sense of limbo,
stuck in a grayness in between that halted both feeling and thought. I couldnt focus.
Everything flickered in and out of existence; I didnt feel whole. Something crucial was
missing. Perhaps it was due to my continuous lack of sleep, perhaps my mind hadnt
fully rested and couldnt rebootvalidity seemed to be a thing of the past; the only
repeated thought I had was if Hannah got a funeral.
Daniel only stopped by to change my wound dressing. He had a certain formality to
him that reminded me of when I first met the other two goons, Vincenzo and Alrick.
Daniel disconnected; he wanted nothing to do with me.
You need to eat, he stated one day. Or Im going to have to give you a feeding
tube. They already gave me an IV. It will be very unpleasant. A tube will be shoved
through your esophagus and straight into your stomach.
I tilted my head toward him, rubbing my cheek against the soft Egyptian cotton of
Ashers pillow to rest my gaze on the dirty blondes face. His plain brown eyes frowned
back at me, carrying no real reserve. I had to wonder, was it harder to kill someone
when you got to know them?
It would be easy for Daniel. He didnt know anything about me.
I tried, he sighed when I did nothing but stare for several minutes. His head rocked
back toward the form standing behind him; a grumpy German with thick arms crossed
over his chest.
Hes not kidding, Muffin. If you dont eat, were going to have to force you, Alrick
murmured, shaking his head at me. Dont you want to get better?
No. That was the problem, wasnt it? I didnt want to get better.
Fine, he huffed angrily at my silence. But dont say I didnt warn you.
With that, they both vacated the premises. I understood Alricks frustrationthe
problem was, he had yet to understand my actions. He might have wanted to help
me, but I didnt want any more help. Their help was dirty, tainted. It got me into more
trouble if I took it. Over time it had become apparent to me that Alricks warning to

377

run wasnt about the danger of outsiders, or the possibility of Michaels wrath, it was in
regard to Asher. He was telling me to run from Asher.
That made him guilty by association, as well as Vincenzo. I didnt doubt that they both
knew of Ashers plans, that from the beginning they intended on carrying it out. What
changed? What made Alrick want to warn me? Guilt was my only answer. He grew
attached, developed morals, and now his attempts to fix the wrongs all slammed into
a plain brick wall I built around me.
The nameless mans words had poisoned my mind. Was it obvious? Every thought felt
darker than the last. I hated Asher for using me, I hated myself for being so easily
manipulated, and I hated everyone else for letting it happen. I was filled with so much
rage that it literally rendered me immobile. No, that wasnt it. I just didnt want to
move. I didnt want to do anything.
The next time the sun set, a new pawn joined the chessboard. As I laid on my side, arm
tucked beneath my head and eyes pressed shut, the door violently swung open. In
hopes of making the intruder leave, I feigned sleep.
Get up, Goomba, his gruff voice grunted. I know youre not asleep.
My eyes flickered open in recognition of the voices identity. The man standing inches
away bent down to throw a plate onto the nightstand beside my head, one that
probably held fresh warm food. Probably a turkey sandwich made by Alrick.
I pushed one hand against the mattress, shifting my sore muscles to work myself into a
sitting position. Vincenzo plopped into the warm spot beside me on the bed as I swung
my legs over the edge, towards the floor. The reasonable emotion to feel with his
presence should have been reliefit was the first time I saw him since Michael hauled
me off, but I remained stoic.
You getting any sleep? his good eye ran over my face.
I blinked.
Didnt think so, he exhaled. One hand shot up, cupping my forehead in the large
palm before it slipped away. My skull swayed. Youre going to die if you keep this
up.
That was the point, yes.
Any nightmares? he prodded.
No.
378

Ah, right, no sleep, he continued to have a conversation with the room. I took that
time to study him; his mask devoured half his face and his curls were slicked back,
gelled over his scalp. No cast, I noticed, but a tight sling kept his left arm pinned
against his chest. At least he could walk again. No crutches.
You gonna eat that? he questioned. I followed his gaze to the fresh sandwich,
choosing to stare blankly at it. No use wasting it, then, he shrugged, reaching out to
grab the food with his good hand. Ill tell them that you ate it, he stated before
taking a large bite. I almost risked a smile.
We sat in silence while he finished off my meal, both of us staring out toward the
balcony curtains. I kept them shut at all times, despite Alricks attempts to let light in.
Vincenzo didnt bother telling me what to do, he already knew I wasnt going to do it
and that particular little fact made sitting alone with him in my personalized cocoon so
much easier.
So why the silent treatment? he spoke after a few minutes. I redirected my gaze to
the bare flesh of his face, to the freshly shaven chin and tidied sideburns. His lone
brown eye met me, gradually mirroring my movement. Its kind of funny, he
indulged, Before, we couldnt get you to shut up, now no one can get you to speak.
I blinked my eyes down, across his throat and to the tight sling on his shoulder. The blue
fabric of his shirt reminded me of blue wallpaper, of blue eyes and blue lights and blue
latex gloves. To keep my mind from wandering any further down that path, I focused
all my energy on the detail of his neck. It looked smooth and warm. If I curved my
fingers against his clavicle, would his Adams apple bob? Would he even allow
contact?
Two fingers tentatively touched my temple, drawing my attention up to the owners
face. He brushed my hair back, out of my face and tucked the inky strands behind
one ear. Whats going through that head of yours? he whispered, almost like he
knew if he spoke any louder he would wake me from my dream. My focus snapped
solely to the way his nostrils flared with each gentle intake of air. His breath pulsed in
my ears, somehow forcing my lungs to sync. Was he leaning in or was that my
imagination? His hand didnt stop at my ear, it trickled down, against the side of my
neck and down over the contour of my jaw.
I was leaning too.
A sudden, surprising but soft slap against my cheek snapped me out of my daze. I
jerked my head up, rearing my weight back as he gave me a forced smile. Ah well,
no worries. Asher should be back soon.

379

Dread surged up from my stomach, burning my chest in its trail to my throat. Betrayal
hollowed a black hole in my chest. Was I being sacrificed already? All five stages of
grief overwhelmed me at once: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally
acceptance. My emotions fell back to neutral, ending my spark of life before I had a
break through.
Still, my hand somehow ended up clutching at Vincenzos knee.
His firm grip closed over my knuckles. One by one, he peeled my fingers back,
bending them away from the taunt material of his jeans. I expected him to shove my
hand off, but his hold only tightened once his pants were released. Were not going
to go away, he stated decisively. No one can erase or take back what happened.
Nothing is going to go away, even if you never come out of this room. Moisture stung
the surface of my eyes. Its time to grow up.
I jerked my hand away from his grasp, forced to give it two violent tugs before he
released me. With a sigh, Vincenzo turned to grab the empty plate on the nightstand
and removed himself from the bed. My eyes remained locked on the floor between
my toes as his shadow swept over me, past me, and drifted outside. The door clicked
shut.
He ate it? Alrick muffled voice came from the other side.
Yup, Vincenzo grunted. Now leave him alone.
Whatd you do? he asked skeptically.
I cast a spell on him, Vincenzo rumbled.
Funny Did he say anything to you?
Yeah, that he thought you were ugly.
This is serious, stop messing arou their voices faded away, once again leaving me
in silence.
My weight rocked backward, swaying gently before plopping straight onto the
mattress. Damnit, he was right. I couldnt slump in a corner forever. I wasnt twelve
anymore. Muffins werent going to draw me out of my haze anytime soon and it was
no ones responsibility but mine to rescue myself.
I rolled over onto my side, pulling one pillow down with me so I could cuddle into the
surface. Pain was the last thing on my mindDaniel had shot me up with so many
different painkillers that unless I purposely poked at the stitches on my stomach,
380

nothing hurt. I knew I was bruised, I just didnt bother to find out how much. My right
thumb rested in a cast that swallowed up most of my palm, but even that didnt
bother me.
The only thing weighing me down were my thoughts; always dark and dreary. I
thought of nothing but death. It wasnt even in the conventional, horror-stricken sense.
My trail of thought was always analytical. I pondered details of each death as well as
the effort involved. Of course I would never mention how sometimes the cracked
edges of my psyche convinced me Hannah roamed my room. I would never tell Alrick
that sometimes I saw Michaels face in the flicker of the curtains, or how my own
mother haunted me from beneath the sheets. I would never share with Vincenzo that
when I stared up at the ceiling, I thought of the people locked in that shabby little
room.
I couldnt even bring myself to ask about them.
As the sun drifted further behind the mountains, the room better resembled the coffin I
imagined it to be. If only someone would hammer in the last few nails. I was already in
the darkin every sense of the word, I didnt think it could get any worse.
The door clicked open a bit past ten forty-five, allowing another wicked entity into my
room. No other sound came at first, just a soft shuffling of fabric. Then, the clink of glass
came, a rush of liquid, and the jingle of ice.
I already knew who it was.
He merged into my peripherals soon enough, circling around the corner of the bed
and waltzing to my edge. I blinked my eyes up to perfection, finding the same ghostly
businessman Id grown to detest so much over the past however many days. In one
hand he held the trademark glass of bourbon and in the other, Daniels bag of
goodies.
Quietly he took a seat at the edge of the bed, causing me to shift back to keep my
stomach out of harms way. A quick sip at his drink left the glass drained, so he leaned
forward to set it down on the nightstand. Even the way he stretched his arm out was
graceful; hand tilted back, wrist exposed, fingers curled at the top of the glass instead
of the side. Watching him proved mesmerizing every time. It was hard to believe he
was capable of murderbut I knew he was.
My eyes narrowed, for once displaying all the hatred Id been harboring. Asher didnt
seem to notice, he merely set down the bag and unzipped the top. Here it comes, I
told myself. Would it be a gun? A knife? Maybe a simple shot that would let me drift off
to sleep and never wake up. No effort on my part. All I had to do was die.

381

Instead, he returned empty handed. A quick tug from him removed the IV from my
arm. I frowned at the angle of his fingers, both sets stretching out toward my chest and
pausing at the tail of my shirt. He lingered there as his eyes sought mine out, silently
asking a question I couldnt identify. What? What did he want? Permission to kill me?
When I made no move to stop him, he hooked two fingers into the warmth of my
sweater. My insides collapsed into a heap of mush but I didnt recoil; I didnt care. The
hand inched the fabric up, joined by its twin only when the material grew bunched
against the underside of my arms. Oh so slowly, he curved his touch beneath my torso,
lifting me up the slightest bit so he could continue to remove my first layer of
protection. The grey sweater dipped over the back of my head, ruffling my hair as it
was dragged away from me. Quiet, ginger movements continued, peeling one sleeve
off my arm, then the other.
He rotated my arm in his grasp, turning the scuffed evidence of Vincenzos outburst
toward the light. A thumb grazed the surface of my scabs, where the beer bottle had
cut me, seemingly counting each outline. It didnt hurt. Nothing hurt. He took a
moment to touch my cast and study the inside of my bruised palm before he lowered
my arm to the bed. The moon crept higher into the sky, shedding a soft grey light that
progressively outlined the side of Ashers face.
He was so pretty. So perfect. The elegance of his perfection didnt escape me even as
I imagined carving his skin off with the same scalpel Daniel pulled out of my stomach. I
hated him.
So why did I let him touch me? I suppose a part of me was curiousnot just about
what he would do, but if he could prove me wrong. A part of me, although small,
hoped genuinely that the nameless mans tale never verified. A part of me hoped the
three men Id grown somewhat dependent on over the last few months were not so
heartless as to use and throw me away.
Both hands hooked onto either side of my waist, grounding against my skin before
they slid up in unison. The movement wrinkled my shirt, dragging it up and over my
navel, straight to my collarbone. He paused again, drinking in the details of abuse on
the canvas of my chest as his fingertips outlined the scars. The depth of his eyes
haunted me; from the pallid long lashes to the grey texture of his iris. Everything about
him felt like a dream. But he was nothing more than a nightmare.
I pressed my eyes shut in a faint attempt to break his spell. Strange, usually I had to
open my eyes to make nightmares go away.
My body lurched when sharp pain ran through my torso. A glance upward showed
me a dangling piece of gauze hanging from Ashers grip, having been ripped away
from my stitches. He diligently rolled the bloodied gauze against the tape supporting it
382

and dropped the bundle into the nearby trashcan. Picking up a small cloth, he
doused it in unidentified yellow liquid with a particularly thick scent. I hate you, I
chanted in my head. The cloth dipped against my stitches, running over my ruined skin
in a soft back and forth motion.
I was Peter Pans shadow and Asher was the needle sewing me back into place.
He never spoke, nor did he try to pull words from me. He didnt demand I eat, though I
knew him capable of tricking me into doing as he wished. Honestly, he was the devil.
Evil. Full of darkness and treachery. Full of betrayal. I hate you, my internal chant
continued.
After taping a new piece of gauze over the disinfected area, Asher lowered the fabric
of my shirt to cover my skin. I continued to stare, motionless on the outside, shaking on
the inside. It was so loud in my head, filled with curses, chants, screams, laughter and
sobs. Nothing touched the surface. I didnt let it. Wave after wave of emotion
smacked against my wall, demanding outrage, revenge, justice, yet I remained
comatose. He met my gaze in equal silence, and for once I wondered if the same
chaos was going through his head. What was he thinking?
He mindlessly reached for his glass, having forgotten it empty, and took another sip.
The ice clinked against his lips, reminding him of the lack of substance he craved so
much. Instead of refilling it, he set the glass back down, releasing a tender sigh.
I hate you.
I know, he responded softly.
My eyes momentarily grew wide, shocked at the suggestion that he could read my
mind. Though the way his gaze fixed on me claimed otherwise; I had spoken. I said it
out loud. When? How?
I rolled onto my side, away from him, and the mattress gently rocked with my
aggression. Fuck, I was so stupid. Nerves tingled in the pit of my stomach when the
collar of my shirt dipped down, baring the back of my neck. Cold, wet lips pressed
against my skin, hitching my lungs into overdrive. His breath teased the thin hairs on my
spine, producing a series of goose bumps that spread like wildfire down my arms.
The neckline of my shirt descended further, tightening against one side of my neck to
allow the stretch of fabric. My shoulder popped out of the extended opening,
becoming the new target for his trailing lips. They were very quickly warming up,
gaining the temperature he stole from me. I hated him. I hated everything about him,
everything he represented, from the warmth of his touch to the flutter of his breath
against my skin. I wished him dead.
383

Dont, I winced and Asher paused, his lips hovering inches from my face. I felt him
shift again, disturbing the mattress as he arched his torso over mine.
With one tug, he forced my chin up against my shoulder. His lips found me, pressing so
insistently against my flesh that I felt the outline of his teeth clash against mine. His
breath muddled my thoughts, teetering my sense of reality, fucking with my self worth
by once again rendering my wishes useless. I didnt want him to touch me, to kiss me,
to even be around me, but once again he found the need to prove his authority by
overstepping boundaries.
Once he had satisfied himself, he pulled back, releasing my chin so that he could
recoil from the bed. The melting ice in his glass jingled when he picked it up, outlining
his path for me even as he slid away in the dark.
I rocked upright in bed, staring dumbly after him. He abandoned me, granting the
loneliness I requested by slipping out of the room. It wasnt until I stretched a hand
down to grab onto the comforter, to tug it over my head and hole myself up again,
that I noticed a mass left behind. Unable to make out the shape, I quickly reached out
to flick the lamplight on. Waiting for me at the corner of the bed sat a small green box,
wrapped in dark blue ribbon.
I snatched it up instinctively, tearing the ribbon off to get to the contents within. Blood
rushed into my cheeks the moment I removed the lid and light hit the surface of the
paper, where in rather neat cursive a message awaited me. For when you need me, it
read.
My fingers dipped down to wrap around the new cell phone, though I barely got a
sense for its weight before I dropped it back into the box. I might have considered it
sweet were it not for the darkness already circling my thoughts. So many thoughts, I
had so many thoughts. I thought of my sweet, thoughtful German; of my blunt,
hotheaded Italian; of my stoic, cold businessman, and I knew.
I knew I would betray them all.

384

When morning came, I was more determined than ever before.

I was going to destroy everything they had, everything theyd built. I would make them
regret ever dragging me into their lives.
Something dislodged in me when I moved to stand up; another part of me shriveled
up and died, left abandoned on the bed as I removed myself from the damp sheets. I
lost another part of me. Never before had I known myself so capable of anything,
and everything. My limits were truly expanding.
I took a few minutes to change into fresh clothes and pocket the cell phone before
heading downstairs. The staircase did a number on my sense of depth, messing with
the limited amount of space imprinted in my brain after holing myself up in Ashers
room. I held onto the railing all the way down, careful to steady my balance so I didnt
tumble headfirst.
Satisfying my hunger was my immediate concern, so I avoided the hallway and turned
right into the kitchen. One flick of the switch illuminated the room for me, allowing
every surface to shimmer as I sought out the refrigerator. I didnt know if it was
acceptable for me to dig through the food, but I figured Alrick would be more than
happy if I actually ate.
I rummaged through the cabinets one at a time, grabbing utensils, bowls, plates, cups,
spoons, placing everything down in a corner where I would later return to them. I
snatched the flour, grabbed the butter, stole the cream and took the brown sugar.
Ready to go to my happy place, I started to bake. My cake was going to be filled
with enough sugary sweetness to keep me busy for a good while.
The cast on my thumb made simple actions difficult, but I managed. I was just
climbing up on a counter to reach the higher shelves when I heard a soft cough from
the doorway. The sound surprised me, drawing a jolt out of my body, and I might have
fallen to my doom had my grip not already been locked on the cabinets handle. I
made sure to steady myself before glancing over a shoulder.

385

Good morning, Asher said, a puzzled look on his face.

Morning, I mumbled, turning my face away from him as I slowly lowered myself to
ground zero. He approached the center island where my mess was growing, taking a
proper seat on the stool and swiveling to follow my movement. I could see him
watching me from the corner of my eye, studying every action.
I tried to reel in control, to remind myself of my newfound purpose and the necessary
tactics to reach my ultimate goal of bittersweet vengeance. I needed his trust, after
all, before I could completely smash it into smithereens. So I gave him the best smile I
could manage instead of the seething glare I wanted to show as I stirred my mixture.
He didnt mirror my pseudo enthusiasm. I knew by then not to expect much from him
in terms of emotion; Asher was too protected, too careful to show me what he felt. I
understood that now.
What are you making? he asked quietly, an innocent sense of curiosity in his voice. It
angered me to find any innocence in Asher, especially since he had destroyed all
traces of mine.
Cake, I answered quickly, keeping my words limited. I was worried my real thoughts
would spill out, my I hate yous and Ill make you regret everythings. I didnt want him to
read my mind again. I didnt want him to know.
His staring didnt cease, those hollow, colorless eyes never left me, and even as I tried
to ignore them I felt them pulsing with me. To break the building pressure of his silence,
I spoke again; Want a taste? My voice snapped him out of whatever line of thought
he was in, bringing a blink and a slight cringe to his expression. His eyes moved over
me once more, down towards the bowl of cake mixture. I had to wonder if he was
thinking about what I said the night before, when I let him know that I hated him. Did
he still think it true? Or did he think it was just my emotional rollercoaster, a side effect
of Michaels torture? Surely he wouldnt be so casually comfortable in my presence if
he thought I hated him.
Sure, he answered after a slight delay.
I slid my bowl closer to him, moving around the corner of the island for better access.
My skin tingled when I approached him. I could feel his body heat and it easily
affected me. It was for that reason alone that I looked up at his face, and noticed a
peculiar hint of expectation on his face. I waited, but he didnt move to taste the mix.
It was a mocking movement at first; I dipped my spoon into the mixture and raised it
up toward him. I was about to add in the typical choo choo sound effect necessary
to entice children into eating, but his reaction stopped me cold. The edges of his lips
creased up in a satisfied smile as he leaned forward, parting his mouth for the spoon.
386

My pulse quickened at the sight, at the simple image of his lips wrapping around the
smooth silverware. It was ridiculously erotic to see the flesh slip back, gliding across the
reflective surface and leaving it clean.
Good? I swallowed dryly, my eyes locked on his lips. I watched his Adams apple
bob, accepting my treat, and my face flushed.
Needs more sugar, he critiqued.
Ah. I blinked my eyes up to his. Does it? I whispered as I reached over for the bag
of sugar. A couple of scoops were added, mixed in, and before I knew it I was offering
him another taste.
He leaned forward again, placing his elbows onto the countertop as his eyes rolled up
toward me. I could feel my pulse in my temples, my throat, all the way down to my
fingertips. As much as I hated him, I still found him devastatingly attractive; from the
soft, feathery way his hair fell into his face to the open collar of his dress shirt. He must
have known it, he was the devil after all, for he kept those hollow eyes boring holes
into my skull as he opened his mouth. My handle rippled with a tremble the moment
the spoon disappeared into the warm void, and by the time goose bumps broke out
across my forearms I knew it was too late.
He slanted his weight when I tried to pull the spoon back, following it up, closing the
distance between us as the gears in the logical side of my brain screeched to a halt.
By the time I actually removed the utensil from his mouth, he was inches away from
me. Good? I asked again, my voice airy and fleeting.
Delicious, he breathed against my face.
My elbow slammed against the bag of flour when he pounced, creating a cloud of
white that washed over us as our bodies flew back. His lips pressed firmly against mine,
panting, insistent and hungry. I scrambled for balance as he continued to push,
abandoning the spoon to reach out for some sort of support; my touch managed to
knock over several objects, each causing a loud clatter or thump as I staggered
backward. His strength carried me against the countertop, lifting me up onto the
surface with his body quick to follow. The position wrinkled my stomach, causing
tension in my stitches that only made me gasp against his lipsthis was taken more as
an invitation than a warning sign of danger, for his tongue was soon filling my mouth.
I could feel the water faucet pressing into my back, knocking on my spine. His touch
sucked me in, drowning me as his needy mouth swallowed up my air. The rumble of his
growl vibrated up his throat, through his tongue, rupturing as an echo in my skull. I
could taste the residue of my cake mix in his mouth, adding a strange sweetness to
the kiss. There was no alcohol, no tobacco, just sugar. Just Asher and sugar.
387

Is everything okay in Daniels voice broke through the kitchens opening, spiking at
height of our sexual peek. ... here.? He trailed off, clearly surprised by what he saw.
Asher didnt stop when he heard the voice, but I immediately retreated. My hands
pushed at his shoulders and I tilted my head back until he could no longer reach my
lips with the difference in altitude. There was a stubborn frown on his face, like a child
refused his just dessert, and he glared up at me as I kept him at bay with both arms.
Daniel nervously cleared his throat, having realized what he walked into, and
whispered a soft apology as he turned to leave. Before he could go anywhere,
another voice flooded the kitchen. What is it? What happened? What was that
sound! Alrick yelled, running in to join the party. Muffin? he added in shock when he
saw me.
Asher took a step back then, giving me enough space to drop my hands as well as my
guard. I kept my eyes on him, on his sullen frown, while my heart continued to beat in
my ears. As if the two audience members werent enough, more bodies filled the
kitchen, drawn by the sounds of fallen kitchenware and curiosity. When I finally tore my
gaze away from Asher, I noticed Vincenzo standing next to Alrick. He had a gun in his
good hand, ready for the worst. His expression was horribly dark, a mix of anger and
rage, and he was visibly seething. Behind him, Jenny stood with an empty tray hugged
against her chest and her eyes wide in astonishment.
What a party.
Im fine, I assured the room. They all continued to stare, not sure if they should leave
or linger.
Are you sure? the German tested, his eyes narrowing into a glare that stabbed
Ashers face. I resisted the urge to follow his example, instead smiling forcefully as I
leapt off the countertop.
Yup. Everythings fine, I insisted.
Asher? Alrick rumbled, holding enough authority in his voice for the sandy-haired
businessman to finally tear his gaze away from me.
Muffin was just giving me a taste test, he supplied, making an awkward situation
more uncomfortable for everyone.
I noticed Daniel hand off folded cash to Vincenzo, like he had just lost a bet; though if
Vincenzo won, he didnt look too happy about it. I tried not to linger on the thought as
I kneeled down to the fallen bowls and bags, slowly gathering everything up. Jenny
immediately moved over to help me. Thanks, I whispered, and she nodded, giving
me a smile of her own.
388

Can I talk to you a moment? Alricks voice danced over the top of the island. I
glanced up to Asher, catching his eye for a split second before he turned away. After
a curt nod, he strolled out of my line of sight.
Are you okay? Jennys nervous voice came, bringing my attention back down to
earth.
Yes.
Outside noise hushed the racket in my head, allowing me to tune in to the quiet, faint
sounds of feet. I closed my eyes, counting backward from ten to calm my jumping
nerves. Ten nine eight seven I opened my eyes to see Vincenzo crouching
behind Jenny, picking up what remained of my cake mixture. My eyelids sank shut
again. six.fivefourthree
I can finish up here, Jenny spoke cautiously.
...two one. Thank you for your help, I smiled as I brought my head back up. But Ill
clean up. My mess after all, right? The laugh that slipped past my lips didnt sound
right, not real. Whats everyone doing up so early? A subject change reared toward
small talk seemed best just then. I didnt know what else to do.
The boys were playing poker, she responded. I focused on how she said the boys,
like they were her children, or life-long friends. Like she knew them. Like she thought
them human.
At I paused a moment to check the microwave clock. Five in the morning?
They started last night, she gave a coy smile, gently shaking her head.
Oh, I exhaled. Behind her Vincenzo tossed the fallen bag of flour up onto the
counter as he got up, and dropped dirty Tupperware into the sink. I stood to follow his
movement across the kitchen, where he fetched a broom from a corner closet. When
he turned back to me, our eyes locked. Tha
Hey, Goomba, Vincenzo spoke first, cutting me off before I could robotically thank
him for his help. Want to join us? Were about to start a new game.
How fitting those words were. Yes, we were about to start a game. A dangerous
game, and this time I knew the rulesthis time, I would take control. Not Asher.
You in? he grunted impatiently.

389

Oh yes. I was in. Poker? I asked to clarify, and he nodded. Do you play as well? I
asked Jenny when she stood up beside me.
No, Im afraid Im not very good. Then why the fuck are you here? I wanted to ask
her. I usually just bring them refreshments, she beamed. Sure, she voluntarily stayed
overnight to serve everyone drinks. That made sense. Too bad I already knew she had
the hots for Alrick. Instead of voicing any of my opinions, or suspicions, I just smiled and
nodded.
Alrick walked back into the room just as Vincenzo took his exit, both exchanging
knowing glances. My German immediately took an interest in my presence, looking
determined to fawn over me. Hey he paused, probably because of Jennys
presence. Alex, he finished hesitantly. That name felt like a stab in the back. How
are you feeling?
I followed his touches like a grocery checklist: one to my forehead, my cheek, a tilt to
check at my throat, a tug to study my abdomen, one more to my broken thumb,
every touch more careful than the last. A fake smile stretched back the corners of my
lips, displaying an emotion I couldnt touch. Much better, I allowed.
Thats good to hear, he sighed in relief.
Are you going to play Poker, too? I said suddenly. I didnt want him to ask any more
questions pertaining to my health; physical or otherwise.
Uh, yeah, he frowned.
Vincenzo invited me. Where should I go?
We were he trailed off, letting a thick patch of silence fall over us as he stared,
bewildered. The perfect blues bore holes into my skull, attempting none too
successfully to read my thoughts. Had my transformation from depressed mute been
too quick? Probably. I needed to tone it down a bit.
Just looking for a distraction, I whispered, letting him watch my smile fade.
Understanding touched his face and he nodded, patting gently at my arm.
Yes, of course. Down the hall, fourth door on the right, he instructed. Before I could
turn away from him, he grabbed onto my arm, gently tugging me back. His tall
physique bent down, bringing enough proximity to keep our conversation private.
Oh, and Muffin? When youre ready to talk about what happened, Id be happy to
listen.

390

It took too much effort to smile then. The edges of my psyche cracked, ready to cave
in on my brain. Thanks, was all I could manage to say.
As soon as he turned away from me, I let my lips fall back to neutral. The anger I felt
toward him was absolutely revolting. The weight on my chest threatened to collapse
my lungs, to completely shut down my system. I fought it by continuing to clean up the
mess Asher had made, keeping myself busy. My cake mix was ruined, it went straight
into the trash, and every ingredient I pulled out was miserably wasted. In another
lifetime, I might have said the kiss was worth it. In this one, it wasnt.
I finished sweeping the floor while Alrick and Jenny took care of the utensils. Still
hungry, I took a moment to grab some bread and turkey from the fridge to make
myself a sandwich. A lot of precaution went into avoiding a conversation with them; if
Jenny asked me if I was okay one more time, I might have snapped. There wasnt
anything she could tell me, either. She knew less than me. She knew nothing. Alrick
was careful to watch me. I knew he had questions, a lot of which he couldnt ask in
front of the maid. He had to be careful too. We were all walking on eggshells.
When I readied my sandwich, I grabbed my plate and strolled out of the kitchen. My
steps led down the hall to the destination set out for me; the fourth door on the right.
This new room wasnt exactly what I expected it to be; I thought I would see the
stereotypical circular table, the peculiar lighting focused on the center and darkness
all around. I ended up at an indoor pool, with an oval white table a couple of steps
away from me. Six matching chairs surrounded it, one already filled with the weight of
dear doctor Daniel. He had a shiny new laptop open in front of him, typing away at it
with a rhythmic tap tap tap.
Glad to see youre doing better, Daniel commented stoically, never taking his eyes
off the screen.
Thanks, I frowned, peering over his shoulder to the large body of water. I didnt
understand the choice in location, but I didnt question it. Who was I to judge? I silently
snatched a seat at the head of the table, mindful of my stomach as I lowered myself
into place. It was only then that I noticed a thin wall of glass separated the pool from
the poker room. Strange I whispered, reaching out to touch it.
Alrick likes the lighting in here, Daniel supplied.
Arent you worried about reflections?
Thats why no one sits there, he grinned, eyeing me. I shrugged at his suggestion; I
didnt need to win at poker to win at my game. The doctor went back to his typing,
and I dug into my sandwich to satisfy the rumble in my stomach.
391

What was your bet? I asked after a few bites. Daniel arched his eyebrows, showing
me that he wasnt sure of my meaning. I wasnt either it was just a guess, since I only
saw the exchange of money. I acted like I knew what I was talking about though.
With Vincenzo. What was the bet?
Oh, on who could get you to come out of the bedroom. Jenny bid on Alrick. I bid on
Vincenzo, he grinned boyishly. He bid on Asher.
Before I could react, Vincenzo walked in with Alrick right behind him. A lump
formulated in my throat, making it hard for me to swallow any more bites of my
sandwich.
almost like she didnt believe me when I said eight inches, Vincenzo chuckled
darkly.
Thats sick, the German sighed.
I try, Vincenzo snickered.
They both settled down on the left side of the table, one chair apart. Alrick sat
perfectly upright while his shorter partner slouched, seemingly relaxed. Across from
them, Daniel dutifully closed his laptop and slid it aside to offer his complete attention
to the newcomers.
So you know how to play Poker, Muffin? Alrick smiled brightly, careless in his actions. I
tried to mimic the curve of the lips but my eyes felt too tired to squint without
consequence.
A bit. Im not very good at it, but I know the rules, I answered.
Thats alright. At least you know the rules. Vincenzo, on the other hand Daniel
chuckled, giving my Italian a teasing wink.
You wont be making jokes when I take all your money, punk, Vincenzo growled.
I would thoroughly enjoy watching you attempt that!
I think we can all agree Lady Luck is with me today, Alrick grinned dominantly from
his side.
I stared, bewildered while the three men joked, laughed, and went on with their lives
like life was still normal. Had they not all seen Michaels dead corpse? What of
Hannahs mutilation? Had they not watched me waste day after day, miserable in a
room with no connection to the outside world? The ability of human beings to turn a
392

blind eye angered me. Their aptitude to move on, to forget, to overlook I hated it
and envied it. I couldnt turn off the anger inside of me; there was no switch for me to
find. But every moment of shock and hunger was lost when I witnessed them have
fun.
Abandoning my sandwich, I pushed the plate away from me, to a corner of the table,
before dejectedly staring toward the center. The lump in my throat hadnt
disappeared, and though I searched for a route to follow, my mind remained boggled
with words. Images. Blue, blue, blue.
Shall we start? Daniel asked authoritatively from his side of the table. The rapping of
shuffled cards filled the glass room, creating little pops in my brain that linked to
imagery of cracked bulbs. Next time I blinked, a handful of cards sat in front of me, all
face down and awaiting my attention. I glanced up to note that it was still the four of
us, no Asher, and slowly picked up my cards. Frankly, it was a lose-lose to play Poker
with murderers. They didnt have tells. They didnt have anything except the mask they
wanted me to see.
Sometimes Daniel smiled, sometimes Alrick grunted, and every round Vincenzo cursed.
These were not tells, they were performances. Instead of focusing on my cards, I paid
attention to their faces, to their hands, postures, movements, trying to find the
difference between lies and truth in their world. Where did the bluffs start? How far did
they go? How much were they willing to risk? I folded every round, just to give myself
more time to study, while the others lost the chips designated to them. The game went
on for hours, until I was reduced to finishing my cold sandwich due to my growing
hunger.
Excuse me, I whispered after I had folded for yet another time, giving myself a
chance to escape the room. It was a good time to return my plate to the kitchen, and
grab something to drink. I was craving some black coffee after my restless week of no
sleep.
Thankfully, Jenny wasnt in the kitchen when I got there. That left me alone to make
my preferred drink without Ashers-opinion-filtered-through-another-person annoying
me. I washed my plate, grabbed a cup, and turned on the coffee machine. It was a
little tricky to figure out but most of the buttons had handy pictures on them, which I
followed until I achieved the desired result. A shot of panic ran through me when I
heard approaching footsteps, since by now I expected to be chided for my addiction,
but the voice that approached didnt sound familiar. Who on earth?
As your contract states, you only need to appear at the events within these time
frames. If we rearrange the photo shoot, you might be able to attend the dinner, but
otherwise I see no other way.

393

I dont see why I cant do both. Asher will make it work. At least for me. Hed do
anything for
I paused mid-pour to glance up, and in an awkward dj vu moment I found Liza
standing in the doorway. She gawked at me, visibly shocked. I watched her attempt
to accept and understand my presence, a struggle that echoed in the furrow of her
brow.
Hello, the man that followed her into the kitchen spoke first, an easy smile on his
face. He seemed well into his forties, sporting a smooth navy suit and a deep gray tie.
Crows feet thickened along the sides of his cheeks when he beamed at me, but there
was a calculated coldness in his eyes that stopped me from mimicking his smile. Im
Kyle Simmons, Mr. Pickets PR, he introduced himself confidently as he extended a
hand out.
I reached forth to take his hand, lightly giving it a shake. Nice to meet you, I
mumbled.
And you are? His hand closed tighter on mine, squeezing perhaps a bit too harshly.
Maybe it was a threatening gesture, I didnt know, nor did I care. He failed to
intimidate me solely because he worked for Asher. He was low on the food chain.
Just an acquaintance, I answered.
The hell you are, the high-pitched voice from hell seethed from the doorway.
I shook my hand free, ignoring Liza as I went back to pouring my drink. Still searching
for answers, Mr. Simmons turned to the tall beauty behind him. Do you know this
young man?
Hes Ashers call girl, she hissed defiantly. His name is Muffin, came a teasing
snicker.
Any other day, I might have snapped back at her, belittled her and highlighted her
stupidity but after everything that had happened, I just didnt find her worth it. So I
picked up my coffee and left the kitchen.
Persistent Mr. Simmons followed me back to the poker room, where everyone looked
up in surprise when he threw out a hand to stop me from closing the door. I stepped
back to let him inside, trying my best to look shocked by his presenceeven though I
heard him behind me. I didnt catch your name, he continued to smile that thick,
plastic smile.

394

I took a moment to sip at my coffee, already aware that if I spoke without pausing I
would say something regrettable. My tongue had a mind of its own sometimes. Alex
Sanchez, I announced for the room to hear. Nice to meet you, I smiled his fake
smile back at him.
I see, he said suddenly, removing his hand from the door. Sorry to bother you, he
added, retracting faster than I thought possible. He left so abruptly, after his grand
entrance, that I couldnt help but recall the nameless mans dark tales of Ashers plan.
Who was this Alex Sanchez? How horrible was he? Did he really look like me, or was he
a faceless murderer that fit my general description? I felt my spirits drop to the bottoms
of my soles, ready to be crushed with a single step.
Did I say it right? I turned back to the table, ready for the stunned look on Alricks
face. My question brought on a dark look and a frown that added years to his
complexion. He seemed so horribly disappointed which I didnt understand, since he
had been the one calling me by that name to begin with. Oh, I hope I didnt butcher
the name.
No, you said it right, Daniel informed me diplomatically.
Shut it, Vincenzo snapped at his friend. The doctor arched both eyebrows in surprise,
not quite in the loop yet, and shrugged as he went back to shuffling cards.
I moved to the end of the table to retake my seat. I decided quickly enough that
there was at least some truth to the tales Id been told; or else my sweet German
wouldnt look so sad about me finally accepting my fate. He looked like he had just
witnessed me put a kick me sign on my own backwhich I probably had, but
instead of kick, it said kill. Though Alricks grim expression tugged at my heartstrings,
it was easy for me to ignore when I factored in his ability to turn his emotions on and
off. He was a trained killer, a robot with no real compassion like the rest of them; he
couldnt possibly care. That look of regret and grief wasnt real. It was an act.
To avoid looking as angry as I felt on the inside, I overflowed my mouth with coffee. I
needed to prevent any tantrums, regardless of how outraged I felt. It would ruin my
plan if I tipped them off! No, I would make them trust me. Care for me. And when the
time came
Jesus, I felt so fucking vindictive. The emotion was beginning to consume me.
As Daniel started passing the cards out, a figure beyond the glass wall caught my
attention. I tilted my head back to watch Liza walk up the side of the pool,
strategically placing herself in our line of sight. She had on a ridiculously skimpy black
bikini, and while it showed off her curves appropriately, it made her look cheap. She
successfully caught the eye of the other testosterone-filled men in the room, who all
395

turned in their seats to look at her. Vincenzo only spared her a glance, Alrick peered
for a few seconds, and doctor Daniel stared. I didnt know why she was prancing
around like a little whore until a few minutes later, when the door to the poker room
opened.
Good morning, Asher addressed the room politely. He didnt waste a glance in my
direction on his way to an empty chair, but he took up the seat directly across from
me. Everyone greeted him, threw their cards in, and we started a new round.
Lucky bastard, the doctor sighed, rocking in his chair as he gazed over his shoulder
to the half-clad whore. Whered you find her again?
He didnt. Simmons did. Shes just a publicity stunt, Alrick piped in.
Publicity mistake, Vincenzo murmured. Shes nothing but an annoying bitch, he
added, making me grin.
She does what shes meant to. Thats all that matters, the kind German supplied.
She looks like she can do a lot more, Daniel chuckled, licking at his lips.
Its strictly professional, Asher assured his employees as he adjusted his cards.
You realize she already thinks shes your wife, right? Vincenzo rumbled at his boss.
Lucky bastard, Daniel repeated.
Shes not exactly your type though, is she?
Dead silence.
I looked up to see Vincenzo glaring at Asher, while all other eyes migrated in my
direction. To break the tension, and change the subject, I grabbed a chip and threw it
into the growing pile in the center. Call, I said quickly. Thats what I say, right? To bet
the same amount as you?
Oh, y-yeah! Thats exactly right. And I think Ill raise, Alrick took my cue, continuing
the game to avoid conflict.
All Im saying is, maybe you should make up your mind, Vincenzo continued,
ignoring us both.
I dont believe youre in a position to give me advice, Asher answered him coolly.

396

The hell Im not. Sitting in the back seat while you drive us all off a bridge puts me in a
position to say what ever the fuck I want! the hothead roared, pounding his good fist
down on the table. I shivered at the use of his metaphor.
Do I need to remind you how all this started? Asher rocked back in his seat, putting
his cards down as his eyes narrowed dangerously.
No, I remember it just fine on my own. I was fucking there.
Muffin? Alrick said quickly, tapping the surface of the table to draw my attention to
him. Could you get me a cup of coffee? That smells very good, he smiled. I would
have felt less insulted if he told me to get the fuck out. Please? he added, sounding
a bit desperate.
Sure, I replied politely, pushing myself up to my feet while I set my cards down.
As I recall, it was your idea to nominate him in the first place, Asher snapped, his
voice only now growing heated.
And youre the one that brought him along! Take some god damn responsibility!
Vincenzo fired back.
Thats what Im trying to do.
Youre doing a fucking lousy job at it.
Do you want to take over? Ill be happy to step aside.
I could do a better fucking job than you, fucking prick. Thats for sure.
Then by all means!
As soon as I closed the door behind me, the voices grew muffled. Although the words
were no longer comprehensible, Vincenzos voice was more than audible. I heard him
get louder and louder, animated with the subject of his discussion. Eager to get back
inside, I rushed to the kitchen to grab the promised cup of coffee and fetch it for
Alrick. When I returned, the argument inside hadnt subsided, but Daniel was standing
outside now, playing with his phone as he leaned against the door.
Ill take that, he said when he saw me approaching with the beverage.
I can take it in, I responded confidently.

397

It might be best if you make yourself discrete for a while, actually, he advised. I
frowned, handing the fresh cup of coffee back to him while my eyes migrated to the
door behind him. Dont worry about it. They do this a lot. Want me to look over your
stitches?
No, theyve been freshly cleaned, I murmured. My hand migrated down over my
sweater, gingerly pushing on the bandage Asher had applied as I recalled his tender,
careful touches. Hey, I was wondering how did you find us?
Daniel glanced up from his phone, his boring brown eyes displaying a sense of
impatience one might bestow a child. Excuse me? he said after a dutiful pause.
When Vincenzo and I were taken. How did you find us?
Oh, I tracked the GPS in his phone, he suddenly smirked, looking proud of himself.
Wow, I paused, wondering if I should feed his ego or crush it. You can do that?
Thats amazing.
Yes. I can do it from anywhere, even my phone. I set up a flawless system that lets me
pinpoint a location in a matter of seconds. Of course there is the occasional human
error that blah blah blah. I clicked out, letting my mind wander to the phone Asher
gifted me. Did mine have a GPS tracking device in it? Possibly. Probably. Vincenzo.
He was clever enough to hide the phone in his cast, and they didnt think to look
there.
Sounds like you guys are ready for anything.
We have to be. Daniel stopped short, glancing down to his phone as he grazed his
thumb across a few keys. I should take this back in. You could go check out the
library or something. You like books, right? Its down the hall, last door.
He didnt open the door, but instead waited for me to leave first. I lingered a moment
too long, curious about the argument beyond the door, but I decided it best to do
what I was told just then. With his eyes still on me, I turned to head back towards the
kitchen. I didnt stop there, I continued on to the next room, past the main entrance
and into the room with the fireplace. My feet wandered, straying past paths, taking
me to doors unlocked and mysterious. I invaded a few offices, a sunroom, found the
entrance to the garden, and by the time I circled back to the kitchen Daniel was no
longer outside the poker rooms door.
I approached the door carefully, quietly, ready to press my ear against the barrier and
eavesdrop on the gang. I stopped short when I noticed someone emerging from two

398

rooms down. It was Mr. Simmons, holding a briefcase at his side and keys in his other
hand.
Ah, Mr. Sanchez, he exhaled in surprise. I didnt see you there.
Are you leaving? I glanced down at his keys.
Yes, I must be getting back to my office.
Could I join you? I brought my gaze up to his wrinkled face, where the cold eyes no
longer seemed threatening. His discomfort at my request showed as plain as day,
though he seemed more distressed by the idea of turning me down.
Of course, he answered. Where is it Ill be taking you?
Just back to the city. I have some business to take care of. Asher had the right
idea; the more vague I was, the more official and threatening I sounded. I sure got the
PRs attention! He started fiddling with his keys uneasily and grunted. If its no trouble,
I tacked on strategically. If I was supposed to be some sort of mass murderer, I might as
well get something out of it.
Sure, he nodded again, leading the way to the front door.
Could you give me a moment? I just need to grab something from upstairs.
Up I went, before he could think of denying me, to rummage through Ashers
bedroom and find my belongings. I found my old clothes stuffed in a bag by the door,
still holding my wallet and keys. I stuffed both into my pockets for safekeeping. The
pain pills were stolen as well. My shoes were carried downstairs, and I shoved my feet
into place so I could continue walking out the door when Mr. Simmons opened it. I
noted the placement of the special key for the electronic lock, wondering if Daniel
and Vincenzo had matching ones.
Mr. Simmons black BMW awaited us outside, with a cream interior and a white
steering wheel. I knew I would have to sit for two hours inside that deathtrap before I
reached civilization and I knew there was no other way. As the older man got into
the front, I opened up the back door and slid in. I immediately closed my eyes, sparing
myself the anguish of watching the road move past me. I didnt care for the interior of
the car, or the plastic smell of it, and I quickly downed two Vicodin to keep myself
sedated.
My driver never said anything to me, nor I to him. The drugs managed to make me
lightheaded enough to ignore the gentle vibration of the car holding me. It was

399

pathetic to sink to such lows just to allow transportation. I wasnt proud of it. But it was
worth it when I slept through the whole ordeal.

Mr. Sanchez? Mr. Sanchez! Simmons yelled, shaking my shoulder to wake me from
my drug induced sleep. I gasped, jolting up so fast that our foreheads collided in a
moment of unfortunate momentum. He withdrew out of the open door, holding one
hand over his forehead as I reached up to clutch at my throat. Though the vicodin
didnt provide me with any dreams, or nightmares, the rude awakening rushed a
waterfall of imagery into my brain. My own saliva felt like a gush of cold water, cutting
off my air supply. Mr. Sanchez? Are you alright?
I redirected my eyes to his face, using it as an anchor to tie myself downI was here,
now, in the car, which wasnt moving, with no water anywhere. Slowly but surely, I
calmed. Sorry, I croaked as soon as I found my voice.
Its quite alright. You worried me for a moment I tried to wake you up when we
reached the city, but you didnt appear to hear me. Are you alright? he asked. I
nodded. Good. Well as you didnt give me a destination, I pulled off by a fast food
restaurant. You can find your way out?
Was that really a question? I rubbed at my forehead, my temples, pushing my way out
of the car while my muscles ached for rest. The small taste of sleep was such a tease
for my tormented body. I needed to relax, take it easy, not endure more physical
excursions, but since I knew my time was limited I pushed forward. Thank you, I
mumbled, shrugging past him. He stepped aside, happy to be rid of me. Good bye.
It was only noon, just about lunchtime. Bodies flooded the streets, hurrying to grab their
food and return to their busy lives. I loved the city. I easily found my way through the
grid of buildings, the overgrown structures and over idealized fast food. The residue of
the Vicodin kept me dizzy, but I didnt really stand out in the drones of bodies that
already filled the sidewalk. Halfway back to Annas Diner, the little phone in my pocket
broke out in the most obnoxious ring Ive ever heard. I struggled with the passing
crowd to gain enough room to reach into the envelope of fabric, fetching the cell
phone.
Hello? I called into the device.
And where have you disappeared off to? the smooth, cool voice answered calmly.
Just went for a walk, I ventured, keeping my voice dominant above the ambience
of the street.
400

How far is this walk going to take you? Asher inquired.

Im going to see Anna. I miss her. Is that alright?
He paused, attempting to decipher my words. I didnt sound mocking for onceI tried
my best to sound genuinely interested in his opinion. Yes, I suppose. Do try to be
careful, and dont draw attention to yourself. Think you can manage that?
I could try. When are you coming to get me? He paused again, perhaps surprised
by my assumption that he would eventually come to collect the runaway. I accepted
the opportunity to continue speaking; Can I have a few hours?
Of course.
Thanks. Ill see you later, I murmured. As a woman shoved past me to charge into a
clothing store, I pressed the end button and replaced the phone into my pocket. Just
a few more blocks down, I could see the beautiful sign of my snow globe. Annas
Diner! Oh how I craved her coffee, her sweets and her food. I wanted to hug her until
my arms fell off. I wanted to sleep in my bed for once and thank god I was alive.
But instead of taking the front entrance, I circled to the back. I didnt even bother
going upstairs. After stuffing my phone into a wedge between the wall and the gate, I
climbed onto the trashcan behind the establishment and jumped the fence. Daniels
little slip of GPS in Vincenzos phone hadnt gone over my head; and Ashers call had
added to my suspicions. The phone might have been for my darkest hour, when I
needed help, needed <i>him</i>, but it was also going to be used to keep track of
me. I wasnt going to let that happen.
Through a couple of alleys and side streets, I ended up a good ways away from the
diner. I followed the map in my head, circling around the building that used to be
Joes Bar, past the Italian food with the best meatballs, behind the gas station, and
finally to one of the bigger structures. I expected flashy signs, lights, and big blue letters
that spelled out FBI, but it was a rather plain building. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Very clean, geometric, official. I pushed through the waves of bodies to the entrance,
where suited officers merged in and out of a collective.
I approached the front desk, waiting for a woman asking directions to take her leave
before I could speak to the one behind the desk. Hello, I said pleasantly. I was
wondering if I could get in contact with an Agent Ruddy here? I didnt remember the
other agents name.
She reached up to gingerly brush a few strands of gold behind her ear, delicately
dragging her painted nails down the side of her face, straight to an itch on her neck.
What is this pertaining to? She didnt bother looking at me.
401

I have valuable information he would like to hear. If you just tell him the homeless kid
is here, Im sure he would like to see me.
Her eyes snapped up, taking a moment to drink in my appearance. You dont look
homeless, she observed. Smart cookie, wasnt she? I tried to smile, to swallow back
my insults and think of my objective.
I leaned in close to her, bending over the desk close enough to make the security
guard focus on me. Its a code name. If you could just let him know? I reached
down, pointing a finger to the phone by her side.
There are several Agent Ruddys here, she frowned.
Then tell them all, I fired back firmly. She rolled her eyes at me, scoffing lightly. Its
important. Matters of terrorism, I bluffed, lowering my tone even more. More people
may die if I dont tell him what I know. That part wasnt a lie.
Terrorism caught her attention, and after looking me over to make sure I wasnt
strapped with bombs, she pointed me to a waiting area. I thanked her, swayed away
from the desk, and planted myself in a nearby seat. The painkillers hadnt worn off,
which left me overtly numb to physical progress, but also left my brain a little altered. I
rubbed at my forehead again, blinking my eyes to help the dizziness disappear. It
didnt work. Both eyelids felt heavy enough to be lead, and I let them fall as I slouched
in my chair.
Hey, a deep voice woke me. The few kicks to my shoes helped, too. I opened my
eyes to see good cop, with his pig face and mustache still intact. He didnt have any
resemblance of a smile on his face, nor did he look glad to see me. His expression was
harder than I last recalled, tighter, and he gritted his jaws nervously as he hovered over
me.
Agent Ruddy? I presumed, standing up on my wobbly legs to outstretch a hand in
his direction.
No, he glanced down to my broken thumb in distaste. Montero. He reached out
to grab my arm, jerking me to the side and behind a tall ornament that blocked me
from the view of the front windows. What are you doing here?
I wanted to tell you what you originally came to ask me. About I dropped my
voice lower. You know.. Pickett? I know things. Ive seen things. I can help you.
What brought on this change of mind?

402

I frowned, pressing my lips into a thin line as I consciously crossed my arms over my
chest. Just a new perspective.
He stared at me for a long, hard moment. I recognized hate in his eyes, anger, every
negative feeling that had been boiling inside of me for the last week. It stunned me.
Wasnt he supposed to be the good cop? Maybe they switched roles. Are you sure
about this? he asked firmly.
Yes, Im sure.
Alright, this way. Hurry up, he grumbled, turning to head past the front desk. He
swiped his card over a machine, allowing me passage into the great wonders of the
FBI building. It wasnt really that wonderful looked more like an ordinary office than
anything. Double the computers and phones, but still office-like. We headed up,
thankfully taking the stairs instead of the elevator, to the fourth floor. My lightheaded
side-effect forced me to hold onto the railing all the way up, which earned me a
couple of strange glances.
Where is your partner? I asked nonchalantly, trying to mask the struggle through the
fog in my head by softening my tone.
Agent Ruddy is dead.
My head reeled. I took two steps back and knocked into a passing agent, who glared
at me before continuing on his way. One of my hands outstretched to grab the wall,
to steady me while every death Id seen flashed before my eyes. My mind was too
fragile then to intake another. What?
He was a hotheaded, careless idiot. He took a tip that wasnt good and got himself
killed, Montero hissed. I understood the hate in his voice now, the anger. He had lost
his partner. This way, he grunted, leading the way to an interview room in the back.
Was it Asher? I wanted to ask, but I couldnt bring myself to say it.
Thats very likely, since Ruddy was tailing you. Though we have no evidence that
would hold up in court. He was found with symptoms of a heart attack, Montero
paused, his expression once again dark. He was only 34 years old.
I slowly lowered myself into a chair, feeling a sense of guilt I didnt understand. Agent
Montero slipped out of the room a moment, only to return with a tape recorder and a
thick folder. He took up the seat on the other side of the table, placing the recorder
down between us. Are you ready? I nodded. Alright. Tell me everything, he said,
reminding me faintly of Michaels words. I stripped myself of any loyalty I felt to Asher
and his men; I focused on my anger, my hatred, and I did it.
I told him everything.
403

Mobster. Killer. Extortionist.

Thats what Asher Pickett truly was; a killer with an agenda. A fucking virus. Everyone
knew he was involved, but he had his hand in so many pockets that no one dared to
challenge or accuse him without merit. The cops suspected him of money laundering,
bribery, drug trafficking, extortion, forgery, larceny, arms dealing and of course
murder. He never got his own hands dirty; he hired out, always keeping himself one
step out of the Venn diagram pinpointing the crimes. He was a super villain, an evil
genius from what Agent Montero said, and besides other criminals mentioning his
presence they didnt have a lick of evidence on him. Asher was practically
untouchable. Except Id already touched himmultiple times.
After I shared Asher Picketts extracurricular activities, Agent Montero told me about
Ashers crew. Finally, for once, someone told me everything. He pulled out pictures,
had me point out which faces I knew and divulged their history.
Alrick Schaferun. Hes Picketts right-hand-man and childhood best friend. His father,
Luka Schaferun was Alexander Picketts bodyguard. The two boys grew up together,
so theyre fairly close. We suspect he does all of Picketts cleanup work. Removing
evidence, getting rid of any traces, jobs like that. Besides a few parking tickets, his
record is clean. Hes very good at what he does.
Vincenzo Giordano. He used to be one of the good guys. Pickett recruited him four
years ago, after a brief suspension due to an alleged accidental shooting. Oh but it
was no accident. I know he did it, even though it was never pinned on him; he killed
his own partner then disappeared. The bastard resurfaced five months later, working
with Schaferun and Pickett. Hes known as The Butcher in Venice and Florence. Hes
been the top suspect for mass murders throughout Europe, but no physical evidence
ever tied him to a crime. A son of a bitch, this one. You should see some of his victims.
No mercy, what so ever. He butchered them all. Ruthless fuck.
Daniel Ward. Dropped out of medical school two years ago, a month before
graduation. Bright kid. Top of his class. He comes from a wealthy, respected family.
Ever since he started working for Pickett, hes been arrested on two counts of wire
fraud. Its really a shame, he could have had a bright future.

404

Michael Bronson. Previously arrested on robbery, domestic violence, and sexual

assault. We almost got him last year for attempted murder, but Picketts lawyers
knocked down the charges to battery. He spent a couple months in prison and got
out on probation. Hes been MIA, but according to you, hes dead. Agent Montero
paused, drawing a diagonal line beside Michaels name on the sheet in front of him.
What about this guy? I stopped him from flipping one of Michaels pictures by
hurriedly smacking my hand down against an edge. With my other hand, I tapped a
fingertip onto a face in the back.
Him? Thats... Agent Montero flipped through his notes, checking and doublechecking a few of his papers. Strange, there doesnt seem to be any oh, here we
go, Roger Ascot. Hes just a muscleman. No one important.
I begged to differ. Dear Roger was the man who had stabbed me, the same one that
declared Asher as the villain and put those dark thoughts in my head. It was strange to
put a name to the face Id been thinking about; Roger. He didnt look like a Roger,
more like a Samuel or James, but definitely not a Roger. I picked up the picture, staring
at the fuzzy face in the back as his taunting voice flickered past my memories. No
offense, but youre supposed to die. I heard the pop of the gun, the crunch of my
bone, the dull hiss of the scalpel and I was right back in Hannahs room again.
Agent Montero jerked the picture out of my hand, easily grabbing my attention with
the anger in his actions. His lips parted in the beginnings of what I presumed to be
reproof for my insolence, but no voice came out. A crack of thunder rumbled against
the side of the building, shooting enough venom through my veins to have me up on
my feet. The smack of the chair against the floor echoed so loudly that my entire
being jolted backward again, smashing against the wall. I pressed my body as tightly
as I could into the corner, shrinking, collapsing into myself. I noticed the cop stand up,
his mouth moving again, forming words with no meaning. I couldnt hear him. The
storm inside my head was too loud.
I folded my arms over my head, tucking my chin against my chest as my knees rattled
out from under me. The rooms corner held onto my weight, supporting my slide down
to the floor. The tremor in the tips of my fingers resonated straight to my skull, shaking
strands of black free of predestined paths. The loud crack of the chair, the thunder,
the gun, they all echoed in order against my skull, vibrating along my temples. My
brain melted.
In a moments span, a force tugged up on my barrier. The counterpoint of their
exertion strained the muscles in my tense arms, misleading enough attention from my
jumping nerves to unfold my crossed arms. A voice called me back, repeating a
name I hadnt heard in years. She said it againa woman, a womans voice, I heard
405

it, and latched onto it beyond the loud cracks and thumps and screams as I tried to
make out her words. Mom? Was that her? What? Did she say my name?
Are you alright?
I steadied my gaze onto two dull, plain brown eyes. They stared back at me, holding
no depth or detail in the iris, and I thanked god they werent blue. The thick lashes
outlining those eyes expanded my attention outward, like newly formed vines in a
developing spider web. I stared until my tunnel vision expanded, until the fuzzy edges
disappeared and I could see her entire face.
This isnt ethical. Hes obviously been through a traumatic experience, we shouldnt
we cant ask this of him, she said but not to me. Her eyes moved away, following
the tilt of her head that redirected her voice to two taller figures behind her.
He came to us, Agent Montero stated curtly.
She looked back to me again, frowning, though clearly worried. I pressed my
eyebrows together, focusing on the small dimple beneath the left corner of her mouth.
Its alright, she whispered, gently grazing the pads of her fingers across my knuckles.
Its just a thunderstorm. Nothing more. The solidity in her statement roused me,
smacking me back into place. The strings of sanity that had snapped with the loud
rumble knotted and tied back together, bundling into the front of my brain. Are you
okay? she asked again.
No, I decided, finding my voice to be bolder than I last recalled. Im under the
influence.
Confusion darkened her expression, thickening the dimple beneath her lip. She
hesitantly removed her touch, leaving my hands floating in front of me, palms turned
up, as if I were ready for the heavens to grant me immunity. What have you taken?
she tested.
Vicodin, I breathed. She exhaled seconds after me, relieved. She probably
expected something worse.
Alright, come on She said it again, that name, my name, making my brain cave in
with a desperate need to keep that past away. That identity, that name, that person, I
didnt want it to touch me. When I didnt move, she repeated the name, shortcircuiting the wiring in my head. What is it? Whats wrong?
Muffin, I said suddenly, this time my voice escaping in a strangled wallop. My name
is Muffin.

406

The woman exchanged a worried look with the two men behind her, and when she
got no explanation, her brown eyes wandered back to me. Muffin, then, she said
softly. Why dont you take a seat? she cooed, careful with her tone. Her hands
didnt make contact again, but they gestured, creating waves in the air that
redirected me to the table. Agent Montero picked up the fallen chair, planting it back
into place.
A strained sound squeezed through my throat, the last ache of a dying rodent,
tightening my tonsils enough to turn breathing into labor. The woman tipped forward in
worry, placing her hand against my shoulder in moral support.
What is it? she asked.
Window, I said numbly.
You want a window?
I nodded, accepting her treatment of my impaired state. I didnt mind that she
thought me sick or slowit made it easier, to be stupid, to stop thinking. There was too
much weighing down my brain. Without permission of the officers watching over me,
she pulled me out, leading me by my shoulder through the doorway and across a hall.
I counted the clicks of her heels needed to reach the new room, followed by the rush
of footsteps that followed us. Too many footsteps. Shrugging away from the hand on
my shoulder, I migrated to the transparent opening that led to the outside world.
Rain greeted me, drops of fat, evil liquid that fell so thickly on the window I wouldnt
have been surprised if the source was a water hose. I pressed my forehead against the
glass, letting the icy temperature seep into my skin. Despite the moisture outside, I
appreciated the window. I never wanted to be in a windowless room again. Never.
How old is he, sixteen? You should be ashamed of yourself for wanting to send him
back in with that monster! After everything hes been through! You told me yourself
how dangerous Asher was, Charles. The risk of involving a minor with an operation
such as this why its absolutely preposterous! the woman yelled.
He came to us, Agent Montero emphasized. You cant be interfering with an
interview. Damnit, Mary! This is out of line, even for you.
That was no interview, that was a briefing. And for what? A suicide mission!
Hes hardly in any danger. Sure, there are risks, but well be watching over him, and
Pickett seems to have a soft spot for the kid so I doubt hell fall into the line of fire
anytime soon.

407

You doubt? Honestly Charles, what are you thinking? Im glad Marcus here called
me. Do you understand the liabilities? If we do this, and it goes south, are you going to
take responsibility for it? After Justins accident
That was no accident! My partner was murdered. And by that kids fuck buddy! So
redirect your worries elsewhere because hes just as guilty as they are!
Eighteen, I said, perhaps a little too late. My face rocked away from the window,
turning towards the two bickering like heaven and hell. They peered back at me,
disorientated by my strange answer to an unspoken question, and tried to wrap their
minds around my existence. I tried to help. Eighteen. Im eighteen, I told the
womanMaryas I studied the dimple beneath her frown. She didnt seemed to
understand; sure, I looked young, I know I did, I looked young and scared and
helpless. Legally an adult, I went on to say.
Eighteen or not, you shouldnt be put into the middle of she said.
Legally an adult, I repeated, glancing at the angry, pudgy cop behind her.
You just had a panic attack, Mary stated firmly, her words deciding law. Do you
understand what is happening? Are you telling me that you want to go back in?
Back in where? I realized suddenly that I didnt know what they were talking about. I
felt exhausted. The emotional rollercoaster completely drained me, leaving me as
nothing more than a shriveled prune. I stared, baffled, at the three faces before me. It
suddenly came to my attention that the third body had yet to speak, but for the life of
me I couldnt focus on his facial features. I didnt know what he looked like; my
attention span couldnt stretch that far. Instead, I pinpointed my concentration onto
Agent Montero, staring intently at him in hopes of obligating him to share information.
It didnt work. He merely glared back at me, seething.
See? Mary seized my silence as refusal, sounding triumphant in her findings. She
threw her hands up, as if it emphasized my distress, and waved a finger in Monteros
face when next she spoke. He came to us for help. What we should be doing is just
that, protecting him, not throwing him back into the lions den.
Whats going on in here? a thick, surly voice boomed from the open doorway. Every
head turned, standing at attention to the new addition in the small room.
Chief, Montero acknowledged. Im sorry, I was just interviewing a suspect when
Mary
Hes not a suspect! the woman jumped to my defense.

408

Are you ? the Chief asked for my identity, though my mind protectively beeped
out the name I didnt want to hear.
Muffin, Mary coughed softly. He likes to go by Muffin, Chief.
The Chiefs face wrinkled, his lip curled upward in distaste, and he glared down the
bridge of his nose at me like I was nothing more than an insect. I felt dissected
beneath his gaze, naked. He looked at me like he already knew me.
Well then. Get Mr. Muffin here into a more accommodating setting. Get him a drink,
food, and a jacket. Its freezing out there, he commanded. He is a witness, not a
suspect, he informed Montero, who was still trembling with rage. He will be treated
as such. Understood? Everyone nodded. I stared.
In a haze of musical chairs, bodies shuffled. Mary left, as did Montero, and the third
guy remained to lead me into another room. I felt reluctant to abandon the window,
but the urgency of the tug on my arm motivated my steps. Down a couple more
doors, I entered an officewith a window, which I immediately approached.
Wedging myself into the windowsill, I flattened my shoulder and arm against the glass,
once again desperate for the icy touch of the casement.
The Chief entered a few minutes later, with Mary and a shorter, chubbier female. Mary
handed me a hot cup of coffee and a bag of chips. Instead of a jacket, I was given a
blanket, but I turned it down with a shake of my head.
Chief tugged a nearby chair over, positioning himself beside me, holding a thick folder
like Agent Monteros. Actually, it was the same folder. I stole a few glances down, just
to make sure, and then threw my eyes out to the cloudy sky beyond the rain stained
window. The coffee I cradled tightly with both hands, holding it against my chest so it
countered the cool of my skin. I noted the lightning, taking time to count until the
thunder came, and keeping myself together in hopes of avoiding another
embarrassing situation.
Mr. Muffin, Im going to ask you a few questions. Is that okay with you? The Chief
asked cautiously.
I nodded, enough to give him the go ahead, and listened as the interrogation started
again. It wasnt the same though; with Montero, I went through the events in a linear
fashion, covering everything he wanted to know about Asher from the bomb to the
shooting. Chief asked me about other things, small details, names, dates and locations
that wouldnt have stood out. He asked about the library, about my diner, the
restaurant I worked at, Vincenzos apartment, about old Lonely and Portos final
resting place. He insisted I try to describe those present during the briefcase-bomb

409

incident, and inclined me to look through some mug shots for faces I might recognize.
All the while, the short woman made notes on a little yellow pad.
I glazed over my sexual experimentation with Asher, as well as the whole AlexSanchez-scapegoat-scenario. They didnt need to know that, especially not about my
sexual awakening.
About three hours after Id arrived, he glanced at his watch. Is he expecting you?
Chief asked.
I suppose, I whispered, unsure of myself.
We should try to get you back, then, he said firmly.
Excuse me? I cocked my head up.
We need you to go back to Pickett Chief began slowly, carefully. I felt the blood
drain from my face. Youre our inside man, he added, as if the thrill of being a spy
would appeal to me. It didnt.
If you dont feel up to it Mary began only to be cut off by a glare from the Chief.
Why cant you use what Ive already given you? I asked.
Because you havent given us anything, he shot me down easily. Its a case of he
said-she said, and its one eighteen-year-old versus a respected man in society as
well as a handful of his employees. Who do you think a Jury will believe? We need
evidence, physical evidence. Pictures. Recordings. The last part unnerved me. I had
a feeling I knew where this was going. That feeling wasnt safe.
Chief, he came to us for protection, Mary whispered, persistent but no longer bold.
Youre our only way in, the Chief kept his eyes on me, his face hard. Weve tried
slipping undercover officers into his organization, but hes paranoid and smart. He
screens everyone thoroughly, no room for error. We have no other choice.
Bullshit, I thought.

The rain diminished to a sprinkle by the time I got outside. An intoxicated man to my
left took that as an invitation to relieve himself on the side of the building without
410

consequence. The smell of urine grew strong enough to draw security from their posts,
and they rushed past me to stop the drunk. I swayed into the sidewalk to avoid them,
placing myself under the scattered drops of water that patterned the plain grey of my
sweater with dots. It was going to be a long walk back home.
Consciously, I fidgeted with the buckle on my new belt. It felt heavy, alien, and I
couldnt stop thinking about the recording device they had popped beneath the
sheen metal. At the first suggestion of wires and recordings, I thought of Ashers
tendency to touch when not invited. Mary, bless her, suggested an alternative when I
panicked at the idea of having anything mechanical beneath my clothes. I didnt
understand why she helped me, why she caredit must have been some bizarre
savior complex, but she didnt disappoint. She was the in-house psychiatrist, so while
Chief wanted to wave her off, I learned she had more influence on paper than he did.
If she deemed something unfit, the higher-ups would hear about it. Needless to say,
the Chief didnt argue too much.
I didnt see Agent Montero again.
They gave me a new handler, a Joseph Kennel, who I was to report to if situations
grew awry. He would be nearby, though due to Ashers paranoia they couldnt
approach the Pickett estate. It was insisted upon that I memorize his phone number
before I left the building. They kept trying to enforce the idea of Secret-Agent-Man. It
didnt work. I wasnt the child they thought me to be; arming me with a hero-complex
and shiny gadgets wasnt going to remove the terror in my bowels.
Mary tried to give a few tips on how to deal with panic attacks, but I blocked her out. I
usually counted. Anna taught me that when I used to have infuriating nightmares after
the car accident. Just count. Think of the numbers, not the images. Count until the
bad thoughts are all gone and you feel better. Ill be right here the whole time, she
used to say. God, how I missed her voice. Did she miss mine?
I flipped the hoodie up over my head for protection before darting across the street.
Beyond that, it wasnt too difficult avoiding the sprinkled rain. Enough shops and
buildings blocked off the light flow of water with ridges along the detailed
constructions that I managed to keep dry.
Coffee helped immensely counter the fuzziness of Vicodin, so I didnt feel tipsy or
estranged as I trekked the distance to my destination. Along the way, I stopped at a
grocery store for a few last minute necessities. Itd already been over three hours,
almost four. I didnt originally plan on going back to Annas Diner not like this. Would
he be waiting for me? I imagined arriving with the cavalry, guns cocked, loaded,
ready to take down the big bad wolf guilty of ruining me. Id hoped the police would
arrest him before dawn, not demand that I go back into his nest.

411

I suppose I wanted them to save me.

Upon approaching the back gate, I noticed my phone still wedged into the corner
beside the hinges. The concave arch of the gate protected the device from rain,
which thankfully beeped when I ran my finger across the screen. 1 missed call flashed
across the display in bright blue letters. My stomach dropped, rippling my spine with
anticipation. A few strokes of my thumb unlocked the screen, lighting up the green
button on the left that read Call.
I waited a few rings, but when no one picked up I continued my path up to the
second floor. A flip of the key opened the door, and as I juggled the plastic bag from
one arm to the other, I flipped the light switch on.
Where have you been? he asked, startling me. I jolted against the open doorway,
darting back in a faint attempt to save myself from unknown dangers.
Asher sat calmly on a nearby armchair, lounging in the dark like it was an everyday
activity. His stoic expression never terrified me so much before; did he know? Had he
followed me somehow? I gawked at him stupidly, not knowing how to take it all in. I
had been ready for him outside, lingering on the street, or waiting in the diner, but not
in Annas home. The door was locked!
How the fuck did you get in? I went out for milk, I whispered.
He glanced down at the grocery bag in my hand, studying it with the curiosity of a
newborn. For two hours? he challenged.
Well that gave me a timeframe, thank god. Hed been waiting for two hours creep.
No matter, my brain was already developing the story capable of saving me. It
started to rain, so I took backstreets and went through buildings to avoid getting wet.
As I spoke, I stepped into the house to wipe my shoes on the welcome mat. I knew it
irked him that I didnt take my phonebut he couldnt mention it without hinting that
he could track it. It was difficult to bite back my smug grin. I closed the door and
locked it, pretending as he did that nothing was out of the ordinary.
Rising from the chair, Asher turned to stride into the kitchen. My heartbeat quickened
when I heard the refrigerator door open, then close. He returned with a softer
expression, so I assumed myself correct in guessing Anna would be out of milk by this
time of the week. Id also grabbed eggs as back up.
Have you eaten? he asked, steadily approaching me. I tried to duck past him, but
he blocked my way with his body and backed me up like a herded animal until my
shoulder blades brushed against a wall. He wedged the bag out of my hand, placing
it on the floor.
412

I had some coffee, I mumbled. No need to lie there, I figured keeping falsities to a
minimum would boost my credibility. And chips. He suddenly paused, glancing
down at his own hands before looking to me. I didnt react to his unspoken question,
whatever it was, and after the moment of hesitation his hands stretched out against
my waist.
Did you eat here? he sounded too curious to be earnest. I practically felt his
paranoiaor was that my own paranoia?oozing into me as his fingers dipped
beneath the hem of my sweater, over my waistband, grazing my damaged skin.
No, while I was out, I breathed, my stomach trembling from his soft touches. His
fingers moved up my hipbones, knuckles barely brushing against my navel before he
rounded his palms over my sides. The pads of his fingers pressed into the muscles along
my vertebrae, touching but also searching. My heartbeat quickened each time his
body brushed against my belt, fearful of the extent of his measures. How far would he
casually search?
I held up my palms in mock surrender, allowing his hands passage up my spine in the
hopes that he wouldnt venture down. His touch climbed until my sweater bunched
up and his fingertips grazed my neck. Once satisfied, he retreated, but not before he
kissed delicately at the inside of my throat to keep up the impression that he was just
copping a feel. Hah. Your bandages need to be changed, he observed. I felt his
nail itch at a corner that had come undone, ruining the pretense of protection even
further.
Oh is THAT what you were looking for? came my initial response, which I swallowed
with a bite to my lower lip. Can I put the milk in the fridge? I asked instead.
He immediately took a step back, slipping his hands out from under my sweater with
an exasperated look on his face. The milk? he echoed. I nodded. Sure, came a
slow, insecure response.
I squeezed past him, picking up the plastic bag on my way to the kitchen. He
followed, watching as I put the milk and eggs away.
Are you alright?
Was he fucking serious? Jesus, I wanted to wring his neck like a runaway chicken.
Should I be? I asked, testy but careful to keep my temper leveled.
I suppose a person in your position would experience difficulty accepting his
situation, he reasoned, infuriating the shit out of me. My hand tightened forcefully on

413

the refrigerators handle, burning my knuckles white. With time, we will all adjust to the
sacrifices.
Uh huh.
Youre upset, he whispered, his large form lingering in the kitchen doorway. The
angled shoulders, beneath the puff of the tan trench coat, did a marvelous job of
blocking the limited source of light. His shadow felt just as heavy as his weight.
Wow, youre a regular Sherlock Holmes, I hissed, glaring at the refrigerator door in
front of me while my rage radiated through my fingers and down into the handle.
Asher sighed, though Im sure my bitterness comforted him with the pretext that I was
back to normal. After stealing a glance at his wristwatch, he reached into a pocket
to fetch his keys. Did you want to say goodbye to Miss Anna?
No, I snapped quickly, dismissing the idea of the sweet old woman downstairs. I
hadnt even said hello. Lets go. I left her a note, I lied, ignoring his prying eyes when
I strode to shrug past him again. I made a short stop in Jasons room, where my stuff
resided, and filled a backpack with necessities; books, clothes, and boxers, <i>not
briefs</i>.
I dont know if he thought my change of heart was suspicious, or if he expected me to
give in by that time, but Asher said nothing when I left the apartment to follow him to
his car. With his back turned, I swallowed a couple Vicodin, just to help the drive go
faster. I wished it would make everything else go faster too. What I would give to sleep
through it all.

Mom! I gasped. I felt the word, tasted it, and it destroyed my taste buds when my
tongue curled delicately against the back of my teeth. The sheets entwining my limbs
tightened with movement, chaining across my chest and down my arms. A shudder
cooled my heated skin, alerting me faintly of the open balcony doors.
My eyes wandered to the fluttering curtains, the quiet pitter-patter of rain outside, and
in a moment of dj vu I expected to see Asher materialize from the folds of fabric.
Lack of light made it difficult to see, but enough moonlight streamed in to create a
basic outline of surface areas in the familiar bedroom. I took a moment to compose
myself then reached up a hand to brush my index finger against my lips. The spoken
word resonated over and over, haunting me, dooming me to the habit I thought to be
broken years ago.
Talking in my sleep? Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. When did I start again?

414

The door opened a split second later, emitting another shadow into the room. The
orange glow of the hallway light outlined the sandy hair enough for me to take an
educated guess concerning the forms identity. It became useful, as he didnt bother
turning on any lights after closing the door behind him. Silently, he strode forward to
the bedside, adjusting his sleeves around his elbows before taking a seat beside my
outstretched legs.
I didnt get a chance to change your bandages, he told me, hinting that now was
the time to do so with the authority built into his tone.
Can you close the window? I asked, ignoring his indirect command.
Asher nodded. While he got up to close the balcony doors, I swung my hand over to
switch on the nightstand lamp and illuminate the room. It instantly offered a sense of
warmth, reminding me of the fireplace downstairs. This whole situation felt too surreal,
too dreamlikeId been here before, done this before. The loop concerning every
piece of my godforsaken life clicked away in the back of my head, reloading and
repeating the film reel.
May I? he asked upon his return, reaching towards my torso where his fingers paused
at the tail of my sweater. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, unable to digest the
question.
May you what? I snapped, grumpy from my nightmares.
Touch you, Asher said, without the slightest hint of infliction in his voice. My thoughts
rippled, able to twist the simple request into a sinful act. Your bandages need to be
changed.
I bent away from his hand, throwing him a quick glare before reaching down to strip
myself of the sweater. I removed the shirt next, and finally the undershirt, leaving myself
bare beneath the exposure of the lamp light. Just get it over with, I growled. The
tremor in my fingers easily hid in the folds of the fabric still in my lap, allowing me a
meager strand of dignity where I could hide the horror crawling beneath my skin.
Humoring me, Asher hiked Daniels bag of medical supplies onto the bed with us and
opened it right up. He fetched bandages, tape, disinfectant and a few other objects
my groggy mind couldnt put a name to. As I watched him, my memories ticked back
to the moment outside Vincenzos apartment, when I had made a deal with the devil.
Hah! So thats why he continuously asked permission to touch me, it was part of our
deal, and although he hadnt always vocalized it he did ask with his actions. I gave
him that. There was another part Id forgotten about though.

415

My hand lashed up, slapping against the back of the mobsters knuckles to push his
touch away from my sensitive skin. My questions, I said suddenly. It sounded more
like an accusation, something I didnt intend. I never got to ask you my questions. You
promised youd answer them. Honestly, I paused, giving a light lick to my lower lip.
You promised.
Ashers expression constricted, appearing almost painedI would have missed the
brief flicker of emotion if I hadnt been searching for it. He clearly didnt approve of my
recollection. No promises were made, he corrected.
So youre backing out on your word?
He mulled over my question, actively deliberating the loss of credibility should he
refuse me. No, he stated, narrowing his eyes a bit. Ask what you wish, Ill answer to
the best of my abilities.
I expertly picked up on the loopholes he left behind in his speech, where he gave
himself exits and ways to back out should I get too close. He had no clue that Id
already learned of the worst. Where did you get that? I asked, startling him with a
flick of my hand. My arm stretched out vertically, index finger protruding toward his
open collar. He followed the implied line, tilting his head down to study the pinpointed
location. When he found the scar I was pointing to, he glanced back up to me, a
confused look on his face. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Motorcycle accident when I was sixteen, he told me, still frowning. I knew what he
was thinking; didnt I want to know about what he did? Who he worked with? What
kind of shit he dragged me into? About what let him get away with murdering and
ruining innocent bystanders? No, no I didnt. Not anymore. That information was no
longer vitalI needed different stories now, implications that would help a prosecutor
slap him with life in prison. Cautiously, I reached down to push the little button beneath
my belt buckle.
The recorder silently switched on.
And that one? I asked next, moving my pointing finger down, to another scar poking
its tip out from beneath the fold of his shirt, over the pectoral muscle.
These permitted questions are not unlimited, he told me in a testy manner.
I know that, I shrugged, overlooking his annoyance.
And youre sure you want to use them this way? he questioned.
Yes. I nodded.
416

Surfing. I was twenty and thought myself invincible. Got too close to the rocks off the
cliffs, he shared after another moment of awkward hesitation.
I rocked forward, curling my pointing finger down so it hooked onto the top of his shirt.
He stiffened, sitting up straight, and watched intently while I undid the remaining
buttons of his shirt. When I found the scar I was looking for, I pointed down to it. That
one? I asked, lightly grazing my fingertip over the fairly fresh bump on his stomach.
Stabbed and discarded in the wrong side of town. Some homeless kid found me in
an alley and saved my life before I bled to death, he smirked a moment, tilting his
head with another hint of the innocence I detested.
Were you mugged?
No.
Then how did you get stabbed?
Asher stole a glance down at his stomach, to the wound that led to our meeting. He
touched it much the same way I had, tenderly, curiously, feeling for texture instead of
purpose. Casualties, he whispered, quickly earning a frown from me. That answer
wasnt good enough. It was dodging the question. It wasnt incriminating.
He appeared to sense my disapproval, and began to explain before I could snap. A
meeting of mine went wrong, a gathering that turned into conflict. We were simply
outnumbered. They figured that instead of slaughtering my men and me in the midst
of their own organization, where their deed could be traced back to them, it would
be safer to write it off as an accident. The public was to believe it a mugging gone
wrong. I lost four men that day.
Oh, I whispered, giving a quick glance down to my belt. Was it working? Could they
hear? My eyes drifted back up to the pale skin, pinpointing more faint scars with
definite stories behind them. What about I began only to be cut off by a hand that
floated up toward me, palm-out.
Not so fast, he grinned dimly, one eyebrow arched. Its my turn. A frown creased
the corners of my lips, drooping them down as I remembered that he was entitled to
some questions of his own. I merely shrugged, letting him have his moment so I could
return to mine. Meanwhile, anxiety churned my stomach, hoping beyond hope that
he wouldnt inquire about my family, or my past. The nightmares were still so fresh.
Whats the source of these?

417

I followed the movement of his hands as they picked up my arm, bending it at the
elbow so I could see the healed, pink lines of fresh skin on the outskirts of my limb.
Vincenzo, I answered easily, recalling the night I witnessed the cripples insanity. He
threw a beer bottle at me. I blocked it with my elbow.
Asher blinked in earnest surprise, his weight rocking back with the blow of my news. This
was definitely something he hadnt heard before. I brushed his concern beneath the
rug to continue my wicked conquest for revenge. That one? I gestured up to a faint
white line running along his ribcage.
Fell off a bunk bed when I was eight. A friend had a toy knight, with a plastic lance. I
landed on it at an angle. Im lucky it didnt puncture my lung, he added, as if the
thought just occurred to him. He followed my gaze, studying the faded scar on his
abdomen. After a soft, quiet chuckle, he glanced back up to me. Your hand? he
asked next, redirecting my attention to my broken thumb. I trembled, easily able to
recall the sick crack of the bone.
I didnt know how to hold the gun, I whispered. My lower lip quivered into my mouth,
where I lightly suckled on the flesh before chewing on the plump surface. Michael and
Hannah simultaneously popped into my head.
Recognizing my plummet down into hell, Asher quickly reaffirmed his question. I
meant that one, he signaled this time, pointing to my other hand. I glanced down at
my fingers, still scuffed from my days laboring at the Chinese restaurant. Between the
claw of my thumb and forefinger, I noticed a barely visible outline of a burn.
I tried to cook wontons unsuccessfully. Boiling water hurts, I mumbled tiredly. Asher
must have found humor in my tone because he instantly released a soft, chiming
chuckle. Perhaps he was trying to bright up the mood again, to remove my thoughts
from the windowless room flooded with blood. It was an honest mistake, I pouted,
following his example in leaving the dreaded memories in the past.
Hmm, yes, it sounds like one. And tell me, where did you acquire this beauty? His
hand drifted up when he spoke, first touching my shoulder then cupping it, resting the
weight of his palm over my bone. I felt his fingers curl inward, squeezing twin scars I
knew rested across the width of my upper arm.
Pissed off the wrong dog, I mumbled. He was fucking with one of my things. I tried
to get it back. He got pissed. Everyone thinks Golden Retrievers are the sweetest dogs,
but theyre actually jackasses. Like poodles, I scoffed. My shoulder shrugged up, to
hint that I wanted his hand to moveand it did, higher to the back of my neck,
leaving a trail of goose bumps that awakened my skin. I shot my eyes up to his face,
sensing the doom of the question to come.

418

This one? he breathed, running his index finger across the scar on the back of my
neck.
Its my turn, I retorted, and he removed his touch as soon as I swung up a hand to
swat at his arm. Self-consciously, I rubbed at my neck, across the bumps of the spine,
before combing my hair down with my fingers to cover the tainted patch of skin.
Well? he asked after a few seconds, when I said nothing.
I cant see it all, I huffed childishly.
Asher followed my gaze down to his open shirt, where only his chest was visible for my
scrutiny. Once more finding humor where I could not, he chuckled. No, I suppose you
cant. Reaching both hands to pluck the expensive fabric off his shoulders, he eased
the material back, clearing his skin and giving me a clear view of details Id missed
before. Instinctively, I glanced away. It was the most bizarre feeling, like a part of me
still thought of him as untouchable.
I was too low on the hierarchy of society to cast my eyes on a god.
Forcing my eyes back, I tried to fight my internal prejudice toward myself to continue
studying him. Fuck, had I ever seen him shirtless? Yes, once. When he forced me to
take a bath. I didnt look at him then; not like I did now. The toned muscles on his
abdomen reflected on his arms, his shoulders, crafting a gorgeous silhouette beneath
the dominant source of light. I noticed a circular wound on his upper arm, two inches
below his shoulder. I rocked forward, pressing my finger on the raised scar as if it were
a button. This one, I declared.
Bullet, he said, short and sweet.
Howd you get it? I prodded.
The bullet? It was fired from a gun, zipped through the air and came into my
possession by embedding itself in my shoulder, he grinned teasingly. My level of
irritation spiked, punching a sigh through my lips. It became increasingly clear that
Asher was accustomed to dodging questions, to beating around the bush, but I wasnt
going to bother with this game if he refused to play by the rules.
As I reached for my shirt, ready to put it back on and retreat from the room, Ashers
hand closed over mine. He pinned my fingers to the bed, holding them firmly in place
so I couldnt pick up or discard my shirt. I pissed off the wrong people, he whispered
sagely, using the same tone I had when I spoke of the dog.

419

Did they try to take something that didnt belong to them? I asked, careful to keep
distance between my face and his as he practically loomed over me.
No. I needed something they had, they didnt want to share, he paused, glancing
down at my mouth. So I took it.
I jerked my hand back, abandoning my shirt as I sat up straight. Drug deal? I spoke
in the most stoic tone I could manage.
He corrected his posture as his eyes fluttered over my face, down my throat, to the
bandages on my stomach that had yet to be changed. Weapons, he divulged
freely. No one was killed, he added to soothe my civilian mind though that didnt
mean no one was hurt.
Was it here? In this country? I continued to prod, aching to help him incriminate
himself.
No. No where near you. I gave him a look, once again unhappy with his answer.
After a moment, he added, Guatemala. He then paused, belittling me with a scowl.
Its your turn. That one?
I was so relieved he didnt question my neck again that I didnt notice where he was
pointing at first. When I glanced down, I noticed he was signaling to my thigh, to a
scar hidden beneath my pants. It unnerved me that he knew exactly where it was
without seeing it. Fell off my bike when I was seven tripped into a ditch. Nothing
exciting.
Oh? he grinned, an amused crease wrinkling his forehead.
Ignoring his demeaning mannerism, I slid off the bedboth to stretch my legs and
momentarily distance myself from him. In what was a subtle yet progressive method,
Asher kept leaning toward me. I didnt want to lose control of the conversation, or the
situation, both of which could easily be snatched by the older man if I allowed him to
overstep physical boundaries. So I walked around the bed, keeping a good distance
between us while I feigned interest in his back.
A handful of vertical slashes greeted me; ones I knew werent there a few months ago,
yet appeared healed now. I stared at them, attempting a silent gander at their birth.
What happened to your back?
A rake, he explained easily enough.
A rake? I echoed in disbelief.

420

Yes, he stated firmly, offering no other explanation.

Possible, but improbable. I just couldnt picture the graceful devil tripping and falling
on a rakeso accident wasnt part of the equation. I could picture someone swinging
the rake at him. That would make more sense, especially if they held half the hatred
toward him that I now harbored. Really? I whispered, reaching out to touch the
faded outline in the flesh of his back. It seemed smooth, perfect even in its
imperfection, nothing like the rippled contours of Vincenzos burns.
The moment I touched him, his fingers swung back over his shoulder and onto my wrist.
The grip locked into place, trapping me indefinitely. My weight rocked forth with the
force of his pull, bullying me onto the bed, onto my knees, where he gave another tug
to flatten me. I flipped in between losing my balance and flopping onto the mattress,
ending up on my back across the stretch of cushion.
My heart exploded in my chest, sending shards of glass out through my veins that
screamed maidez all the way to my brain. I exhaled when he lowered himself over
me, until our chests touched and his breath washed over my face. Another deal
gone wrong? I said, speaking before he could act.
You could say that, he replied distractedly, clearly no longer thinking of his
experiences or physical scars.
Do any of your deals ever go right? I asked skeptically. This kneaded a chuckle from
him, momentarily brightening his features.
Quite a few, actually, he cooed as he ran a hand through my hair. Its only the bad
ones that leave a scar.
I stared at him voicelessly, letting his words sink into my consciousness. At that moment,
I could see the cracks in his demeanor, the holes usually filled with cold afterthought
and stoic forefronts. His vulnerability. Shutting off his emotions was his defense
mechanism, just as being an asshole was mine. For a moment, my drive for
vengeance wavered off path with the shame and guilt I felt at what I planned to do.
When had I sunk so low? Would I really betray and damage those around me for a
sliver of what I presumed to be justice?
Asher interrupted my self-reflection with a fleeting touch of the lips, too short to be
called a kiss but assured enough to suggest more. His lips vibrated with a gentle hum,
and as he suctioned the breath from my lungs I felt his grip lightly tug at my hair.
Butterflies hatched in my stomach, spreading their wings to travel up to my throat. His
spell wove over me, wrapping me in an embrace too sickly sweet to tear away from;
the yearning for his attention to solely pinpoint on me grew.

421

Within the four walls blocking us from the rest of the world, protecting us, hiding us, the
Asher Pickett available to me was not the same criminal the cops knew and hated. He
wasnt the professional businessman on the television. He wasnt the mobster Vincenzo
and Alrick respected. He was just Asher. He was my secret cave under the sea. How
could I possibly believe he would throw me to the wolves?
Instead of putting a halt to his touches, or continuing the game of 20 questions, I
melted into his seduction. Never would I admit it out loud, but Id already grown
accustomed to accepting comfort from him. Nightmares held nothing against the
power of his breath against my cheek. The vivid imagery in my head became a joke
once compared to the novelty of his touches. He easily acquired total and complete
control of my brain by feeding the needs of my body. Asher spoiled me, and I loved it.
His hands only had my pants to tear at, which they did, tugging on my belt hard
enough to twist my stomach. I suddenly threw my eyes open, paranoid, watching as
he blindly slid the metal open and recoiled the leather from around my waist. I picked
up my hips to aid him, allowing wiggle room for the undoing of my pants. Asher tossed
the belt aside, and the heavy buckle carried it to the next wall where the metal loudly
clashed against a wooden dresser. I winced, perfectly aware of the expensive
technology inside, before I recalled what that technology did. Wait, I gasped,
jerking away from his lips to steal air. Fuck. I hadnt turned the damn thing off. Wait,
hold on, I growled, for he didnt immediately grant me the pause I needed. His kisses
merely trailed down my throat, to my chest, where he stopped once a taped piece of
gauze deterred his path.
Hmm? he glanced up at me impatiently.
Can we turn some music on?
His brain might as well have malfunctioned and popped out of his ears. I saw his face
fall, twist in confusion, and lighten with amusement all in a matter of seconds. He
ended the unsteady path of emotions with a crooked grin, and an arch of his
eyebrow. Why?
I dont want I paused, swallowing dryly. I dont want them to hear me, I ended
dumbly. To help him assume I meant other possible presences in the house, I blatantly
looked to the door. In truth, I was referring to the copsand the recording device in
my belt. Though both were very valid worries.
He peeled himself off of me, grinning without a worry in the world. It hurt: not to see
him that way, but to think, for just a moment, that it was real that whatever
happiness or joy he felt in my presence could possibly be corporeal. My dignity
continued to chip off into tiny pieces and turn into dust on the floor.

422

Asher flicked a switch beside his bar, causing a layer of blue lights to glow where a
small compartment slid open. His fingers lightly grazed a few equally blue buttons,
pressing one to turn the sound system on, and another to cue the first soundtrack. I
stole occasional glances at him, but spent the majority of my free reign toeing my belt
closer to me so I could switch off the recording device. I didnt need them to hear any
more.
Upon his return, he brought the remote with him along with a condom. The urge to
scream swelled and died in my throat. Fuck, I didnt know if I was up for this, if I could
stand something so intimate with someone Id claimed to hate. With the tremble of
the mattress beneath me, I slanted my head up to watch him settle back on the bed.
The grace in his actions jarred me from my negative thoughts, reverting me to an
intermediate stage of thought. Pretty. He was so pretty, like the yellow azalea in my
mothers garden; gorgeous, but one bite and the poison would completely overtake
my veins. Id die in seconds. He could kill me just as easily.
Though he touched me gently, carefully, as if I were somehow important. His breath
reinforced my skin, coating the fragile surface with a forbidden essence of passion
that screwed with my sense of worth. I wanted to believe that he meant it; whatever
affection sat beneath his exterior actions, I wanted them to mean something. I
wanted to believe that I wasnt expendable, that he wouldnt throw me away, that I
was special. I wanted him to want me.
He wrapped one arm around my waist to draw me closer, his lips easily finding mine in
the dim lighting of the lamp. I fumbled with the sheets, with the front of his pants, and
felt his chuckle overwhelm my senses when he poured it into my mouth. Desperation
brimmed from the depths of my intestines, snaking up to my tear ducts. Why was I the
sacrifice? The scapegoat? Why didnt he care? How could he touch me like this and
never care? Rogers story cracked beneath the weight of my emotions, begging me
to differ, pitting my sentiments against my logic. Please care. Please care. You have to
care.
Oblivious to my internal struggle, to the knowledge I held, Asher showered me with
kisses. He had always been so in tune with my thoughts and emotions before, it
bothered me now that he didnt seem to notice my distress. Or maybe he just mistook
it for something else, because a few seconds later he holstered me with a, Is it your
stomach?
I glanced down at the thick piece of gauze shielding my wound from view, where the
scalpel once rested buried in my flesh, and I mindlessly nodded. Its sore, I exhaled.
Do you want me to stop?

423

No. I didnt want him to stop. My desperate need for acceptance, for belonging, it
created doubt in the building blocks of scandal ready to crumble down on Ashers
head. I didnt want to accept him as a cold-hearted fuck that could strip me of
identity and turn me into a target. I wanted to hear him chuckle again. I was so
pathetic. I wanted him to care. God help me, I wanted him to care about me.
So I believed it. If only for then, if only just for a little while. I scrapped Rogers story into
the bin in the back of my head holding memories from the past I was too spineless to
deal withI pushed it all away to focus on that moment instead, just Asher, just me,
just his fingers on my bare skin.
No, I whispered.
Beneath the swell of music, picking up on his breath wasnt as easy, but a lack of lyrics
allowed my attention to remain stable. He slid me down onto my back, helping me
recline so my wounded stomach didnt wrinkle uncomfortably. His mouth latched onto
mine again, keeping a transitory trail of contact that allowed room for air. He was as
calm as ever, still collected, where as my own actions were downright needy; I pulled
at his hair, his neck, his shoulders, wanting to close the distance between our bodies as
a little voice in the back of my head begged that I stop.
Beside me, a drawer slid open and clicked shut. A few seconds later, cold wetness
greeted my sphincter, a short prelude of contact before the familiar stretching. I sunk
my teeth into my lower lip, following the rise and fall of the instrumental tune floating in
the air as his fingers and lips continued to pull me deeper into a purely physical pond
of desire. I couldnt prevent the surge of ecstasy that washed over me as he led his lips
down to my battered chest. Moist lips found the oval of my nipple, their softness
challenged only by the tongue that circled the smooth surface of skin with the rough
texture of the tip. I relished the feel of his mouth on my body, of his hand claiming the
bare plane of my torso.
His fingers traced a line down my abdomen, pressing down where the undefined
muscles retracted against his touch and tensed with a ripple of solidarity. My chest
expanded with heavy gasps, never quite allowing my lungs to settle. He touched me
like he owned me, and I felt irrationally safe in his presence. I knew there was
something wrong with my process of thinking, but I didnt care. Not then.
Did he know how he made me feel? Did he ever consider the consequences to his
actions? Did he ever factor in my inexperience and immaturity when it came to
matters of the heart? I like to think he didnt. I like to think he was never that cruel.
But at that given moment I was too caught up in his touch to reason. Both of my hands
gripped at his body, offering me a balance between reality and the mist violating my
sensory glands. When he deemed me ready, I felt the memorable prod of his erection.
424

It was colder this time, rubbery, forcing my recollection of the condom. It only felt alien
because wed never used it before.
He gradually pushed into me, slowed only by an initial resistance that suggested my
body hadnt experienced intercourse recently. The rise of physical pleasure shot blood
through my dick, arching the beloved organ up against my stomach. I loved watching
his eyes close halfway in pleasure, and his lips sag open with quiet grunts of approval.
The shadows dancing on the left side of his face accented his bone structure in a way
that perfected his attributes, highlighting his prominent cheekbones. A visible line
curved down his throat, across his chest, bisecting his body in half while providing a
strange taste of equilibrium where the light sketched his muscles to life.
I wanted to touch the light furrow in his brow, to smooth it out with the pads of my
fingertips, but I didnt dare reach past his shoulders. I didnt want to ruin the perfect
picture with my presence. My fingertips circled his arms instead, tracing the scars I had
pinpointed before, running along the skin too smooth to be considered damaged. My
legs stretched and tightened against his sides, contracting in reaction to the hot dick
burrowing into me.
All movement came to a sudden halt once he was completely sheathed, which
pressed a frustrated groan from my lips. I blinked my gaze from his mouth to his eyes,
where I found the sturdy grey circles staring back at me. Shamelessly and curiously, he
stared, watching my expression with a lingering edge of simplicity that tossed my
stomach into a vortex. The heat of my cock soon filled his fist, held firmly in the warmth
of his palm. He began moving his hand, stroking my hot, eager penis with long strides
worthy of attention. Up the full length he let his hand roam, over the mushroom head,
expanding his fingers as they rode across the soft, ridged width. Fuck, was he teasing
me?
I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling, deciding offhandedly to study the professional
paintjob that didnt allow for grooves or bumps. My erection pulsed eagerly, twitching
in the hand that continued to torture it with mediocre and achingly slow moments of
friction. My knees dug into the sides of his waist, constraining his outline. Another
agonized moan escaped my throat, this one high enough to peek the ongoing flow of
music. I internally cursed my lack of restraint as my eyes narrowed into glares towards
the guiltless ceiling.
Fuck, I hissed, and his chest rumbled softly with a dark chuckle. I could picture Asher
as one of those kids that liked to play with his food before eating it.
His grip turned my head, giving him access to my panting lips. He licked and suckled,
nursing a moan from my throat. The flush of arousal overcame my skin, raising both
temperature and excitement. My fingers flexed against the sheets, clenching the
fabric to lead it toward me when he began to pump. Every sway of his hips tightened
425

the tendons in my legs, my arms, spurring me to hold on tighter as he angled his cock
accordingly. His girth tortured the sensitive nerves along my sphincter, exploiting them
for every ounce of control I had left in me. I shuddered with his deeper thrusts, and
tensed up when he picked up in speed.
The sheets soon grew damp with my sweat, clinging to my skin where heat radiated
from my pores. The fistful of fabric in my grip felt like rubber, or had I squeezed my
fingers to the brink of numbness? I yelped when he gave a squeeze to my cock, and
bracing himself against the headboard with his other hand, ground his groin into me.
When my voice spiked beyond unreasonable, my gaze consciously darted to the
bedroom door.
Did you lock the door? I gasped.
Shh, he cooed, giving one of his knowing grins.
He had me moaning like the sound track to a cheesy porno, there was no way I would
be shhing anytime soon. There was no off switch for this. Thoughts of switches quickly
brought the remote back to the front of my brain, reminding me that it was just within
an arms length. Reluctantly, I released the sheets, and throwing my arm out,
snatched the remote resting on the ledge of the nightstand. My finger groped blindly
for the vertical buttons that usually meant volumeimagine my surprise when I
accidently hit the power button.
Asher and I both paused, turning to glance at the source of music that had suddenly
stilled. He laughed. I slammed my other hand over my mouth, muffling my moans as I
switched the stereo back on. A few seconds later, the music resumed, and I had the
decency to glance at the remotes labels before attempting for the volume again.
The moment I saw that little plus sign, I jammed my index finger into it, forcing the
capacity of the music to a point where the bass vibrated along the walls and
windows.
The remote, now useless to me, was discarded over the edge of the bed. I substituted
the mass in my hand with his shoulders, taking a moment to accommodate to the
heat of his skin before snaking my arm around his neck. He immediately released my
penis to reach out to the headboard, using both hands to steady himself as I clung to
his body.
His lips were too far to fulfill the ache of my oral fixation, so I made due with the plump
mass of my lower lip. My teeth threatened to draw blood with the amount of force
used just to keep my moans hollow. I couldnt do it. He pushed me to the edge and I
gasped in appreciation, my voice box breaking out into a symphony of howls that
gave lyrics to the music. Asher quickly hushed me with the weight of his lips, and as he

426

rode out his orgasm, he helped me milk mine. The purity of the moment was enough
for me to wish for time to stop.
It didnt. It just kept ticking down to the moment of my greatest regret.

427

He left after helping me clean up and redressing my cuts.

A fleeting kiss against my temple and he was out the door, leaving me to loom silently
on the edge of his bed. I toyed with the belt on the floor, nudging it with my toe,
wondering what to feel. Guilty? Dirty? Ashamed? The physical excursion left my
muscles loose, tired, and sleep was insistent enough to tug on my eyelids. The music
had been lowered to a comfortable level, still bubbling softly in the background, fitting
the empty space left behind in my head. There wasnt much room, but enough that
needed filling.
I took a nap long enough to regenerate lost energy, but it didnt do much for my state
of mind. I woke up with the sun, opening my eyes just as the light crept in past the
curtains. The damned organ in my chest couldnt ignore the fact that the room was
empty, reflecting an ache in my lungs.
I spotted my backpack in the far corner of the room, slouched against the arm of a
manually crafted chair. With a roll of my shoulders, I was up on my feet, quietly moving
to fetch my clothes; new pants, new underwear, and a long-sleeved hoodie that
covered my damaged skin. I might have gone back to sleep, just relaxed on the bed
and soaked in the fresh sunlight, but the familiar cell phone plopped out of my bag
and reminded me of my situation.
Oh yeah.
I picked up the dreaded gift, turning it a few times in my palm before I stroked my
thumb across the surface and lit up the screen. Already doubt ruined the
determination I had the day before. Confidence regarding the destruction of Asher
Pickett withered. I could still taste his kiss on my lips.
Damn.
I slipped the belt back around my waist for safekeeping and headed out of the room.
My bare feet carried me out into the hallway, down the stairs, where shuffling in the
kitchen caught my attention. I tiptoed forward to peer inside, holding onto the edge
of the doorway to steady myself.

428

Daniel stood half-leaning, half-bending over the countertop, attempting to reach over
the width to dig into an open drawer on the other side. Vincenzos curly hair peeked
over the top of the refrigerators open door, one foot propped up to hold it open while
he dug inside with his good hand. The would-be doctor looked up first, easily spotting
me from his position.
Ah.. good morning, Daniel said lazily, his voice followed by the slam of the drawer.
He pulled up a corkscrew, twirling it once on his index finger before cupping it into his
palm.
Vincenzo tilted back, stealing a glimpse past the edge of the silver door to pinpoint my
location. Dont come in here without shoes, he warned with a meaningful look to my
bare feet. Daniel just broke a glass, came the vital information.
Oh Alright, I agreed. Without much thought, I doubled back to the foyer and
shoved my feet into the dirty green converse, not bothering with any attempts at
lacing up the front.
So did you have a good rest last night? Daniel asked when I returned.
I felt the blood rush up to my face. My head instinctively turned away, my eyes
searching for any distraction available while my head flooded with images of Ashers
face. That topic was definitely not up for discussion. What are you guys doing? I
asked, spotting several open cabinets and drawers hanging ajar.
Im hungry, the good doctor sighed, throwing his head back in an exasperated sigh.
Jenny is off today, and Alrick is still asleep so we dont have a... Hey he trailed off
for a moment, slanting his chin back down to steal a glance over his shoulder. Cant
you cook?
No, he cant cook for shit, Vincenzo answered for me.
I can cook, I countered calmly. Just not for Vincenzo.
Daniel gave a light grin as he rotated his torso completely towards me. Then youll
cook for me?
The slam of the refrigerator door caused us both to jump. We turned to look at
Vincenzo, whom I noticed wasnt sporting his usual mask, glaring savagely in my
direction. Sure, I said, just as he opened his mouth to speak. The unscarred lips
pressed back shut, flattened into a thin line that resembled the death of predictably
acidic comments. I can cook. What do you want?
Pancakes, the doctor volunteered.
429

I hate pancakes, Vincenzo growled defensively.

Then what do you want? I turned towards the grumpy Italian, feeling generous
enough to offer my services. I can make both.
Both men displayed their own version of surprise, ones mouth dropping slightly open
while the others eyebrows rose. I stared back quietly, not sure what had shocked
them enough for a visible reaction. He likes eggs Daniel whispered after a few
seconds, exchanging a brief period of eye contact with his friend. Youre in a good
mood today.
Am I? I questioned. Was I? I shrugged, not noticing a change in my attitude.
Although a billion things had happened since I last saw them, nothing felt all that
different. They were still the same people, regardless of the information Id recently
gained on them, and they continued to act in the same way. Somehow the familiarity
of the atmosphere gave me enough strength to ignore the conflicted emotions
clotting up my chest.
Stepping past Vincenzo, I fetched two pans from a nearby cabinet and placed them
down on the stove. While the two mutely watched, I prepared pancakes, and some
eggs for their breakfast. Cooking acted as therapy for me, giving my mind some rest
while I listened to the eggs sizzle and watched the pancakes form. Daniel fluttered
around me the entire time, watching me with the curiosity of a child watching its
mother cook for the first time. Where does the pancake come from, Mommy? I
thought of telling him to piss off a couple of times, but I kept wanting to laugh at the
bewildered look on his face. He clearly never cooked for himself before.
Once everything was ready, I dished out Daniels food onto a plate for him and
scraped some bacon onto the side of Vincenzos eggs. Both plates were placed onto
the center island at the same time. Enjoy.
Youre not going to eat? my Italian asked as he picked up his fork.
I pondered the question. No.
You should eat, he reaffirmed.
Should I have? It would have been the responsible, healthy thing to do though my
appetite remained lacking. Ill have some orange juice, I mumbled to myself, just to
shut him up. Even though I filled up a tall glass with the vitamin-rich juice before
returning to sit opposite the two, Vincenzo continued to glare.
Eat, he grunted, shoving his plate toward me.
430

What? I mumbled, my brain moving too slowly to catch on.

Food. Its that thing that gives your body energy, Im sure youve heard of it.
But I made this for you.
Well it tastes disgusting, so eat it yourself, he snapped.
You havent even tasted it, I replied stupidly.
I can tell by just looking at it.
If you dont want it, throw it away. Im not hungry.
I can eat it, Daniel piped in innocently.
Shut up, Vincenzo sneered, sending an angry glare in his comrades direction before
turning his fury back on me. And you. You made it, so you fucking eat it. I would throw
it away, but I dont want to waste the ingredients. Maybe if you suffer through choking
on your own bad cooking, next time youll do it better.
I felt my anger flare up, sending a sudden jolt of energy through my arm. Bad
cooking? Me? How dare he! Forcefully stabbing the fork into the eggs, I scooped a
chunk off the plate and shoved it into my mouth. After a few furious seconds of
chewing, I found nothing wrong with the sustenance. It tastes just fine! I objected.
Then fucking eat it all, he huffed, gesturing toward the plate.
Im not hungry, I flat lined. Why was he being such a prick all of a sudden? With a
glance toward Daniel, I reached out to grab and slide the plate over toward him. Just
as the poor would-be doctors fingers got a chance to touch the fork, Vincenzo
slapped the hand away. The oval platform soon returned to my side of the island,
marked gift returned to sender.
No, he growled. You made it. You eat it. Thats how it works.
So am I supposed to eat all the pancakes too?
Wait a minute now! Daniel squeaked, pulling his plate closer to himself as he curled
a protective arm around it.
Oh but thats how it works, Daniel, didnt you know? I grumbled.
Eat your stupid breakfast, Vincenzo groaned.
431

In cases such as these, its polite to at least take a few bites of the breakfast someone
specifically prepared for you before rejecting it. Do you always have to be such a
dick?
How else am I going to make a living?
Prostitution is a viable option, I suggested, pausing to sip at my juice. As long as you
dont mind the occasional STD.
Hate to break it to you, but you cant buy this. He gestured to himself.
Really? Looks preeettttty cheap to me, I grinned.
By cheap you must mean devilishly handsome.
Actually, now that you mention it, I think I missed the Webster Dictionary meeting
where they voted on changing the definition.
Good thing you have me here to enlighten you, he smirked back.
I sighed, giving a roll of my eyes. It must be lonely up there on your high horse.
I quite like the view.
You two can go on for days, cant you? Daniel commented around a mouthful of
pancakes. I turned to find a strangely amused look on his face, both lips stretched
back into a wide smile even as he vigorously chewed on the fresh food.
Just eat, Vincenzo called my attention back to him. He picked up a fork full of eggs,
extending his arm out toward me. Ill even make the choo-choo sound, hows that?
The choo-choo sound? What? Consider me sold! I suddenly agreed, reaching across
the island to take the fork out of his hand. Extending the utensil up to my mouth, I
moved as if I really planned to eat, but just as the food was about to touch my lips I
paused to look up at the Italian. Wheres my choo-choo sound?
He stared at me in a moment of disbelief, his jaws clenching together in noticeable
frustration. Choo chooo he presented with great difficulty.
Nah, I exhaled, putting the fork back down on the plate. Not good enough.
You little shit, Vincenzo scoffed with a soft chuckle, his smirk never faltering. Eat it!
he demanded. Suddenly grabbing at a piece of bacon, he picked it off the plate to
shove it towards me. I quickly slid off the stool, backing away from the island with a
432

laugh as he chased me around the obstacle, brandishing the piece of meat like a
spear. I easily backed into a corner, taking one step followed by another until the wall
blocked any further progress. Vincenzo soon towered over me, using his wounded
shoulder to block my way while he arched his arm up toward my face, bacon still in
hand. Open wide.
Uh-uh, I grunted, shaking my head.
Eat it!
Good morning a new voice called hesitantly from the doorway. We both froze. I
peeked under Vincenzos arm to spot Alrick awkwardly lingering in the doorway, a
visibly worried look on his tired face. The Italian remained hovering over me, wielding
his bacon, while he turned his head to follow my gaze. Is everything okay? the
German asked cautiously.
My eyes hiccupped to Asher as he flowed into the kitchen, looking much more
drained than when I last saw him. His lips stopped short of a yawn, pressing back
together in a stunned expression. His eyebrows furrowed forward enough to crease the
perfection of his forehead when he caught sight of me, filling me with a sense of
dread. Shit, did he know? Did he figure it all out? Did he realize what was hidden in my
belt? The grey eyes eventually wandered over to Vincenzo, which seemed to
somehow thicken the air in the room.
Morning, Daniel was the only one that dared to speak.
Without warning Asher lurched forward, pushing past Alrick as he approached my
corner and dipped one hand down beneath Vincenzos outstretched arm, grabbing
at my wrist. Come on, he said suddenly. Lets go for a walk.
Wha? Wa-wait! I shrieked, bumping against the Italians shoulder as the strength of
Ashers hold whisked me away from the wall. My balance teetered dangerously in the
midst of attempting to follow him, an action more difficult than expected once I
factored in his haste. We rushed through the house, from one end to the next, where
one swipe of his fingerprint allowed passage outdoors.
He paused only once we were outside, turning to look back at me like my presence
hadnt been expected; like he thought I wouldnt be there when he next looked. I
frowned at the expression on his face, unable to understand the motive behind his
actions. What? I barked rudely. What is your fucking problem?
The crease in his forehead gradually faded back out of existence, returning his face to
the surreal state of blank while his eyes seemed to somehow lighten in color. Sorry,
he replied quietly, taking a moment to look me over. His other hand moved up to
433

brush my hair back, off my forehead, as his eyes danced over my face. Are you
alright?
Fine I answered hesitantly. You mind? I gave a shake to my arm, which he still
kept firmly in his grasp. The fingers holding onto my wrist loosened, drawing my eyes
down to them, where to my utter shock I watched his hand slip into the curve of my
palm. Before I could question his purpose, we were walking again. H-hey! I growled,
trying to pull my hand back even as he insistently held on. Where are you going? Hey,
come on! Let go! What the hell do you think youre doing?
Trying something new, he answered.
I blinked in surprise at the seriousness in his voice, still unable to comprehend the
situation. Why did he just jerk me out of the kitchen and suggest a walk? Why did he
look so pissed for a second? Why was he holding my hand? The hidden agenda
behind his momentarily lapse of calm began a ripple in my stomach, undulating out to
the ridges of my subconscious. I was too inexperienced to recognize this new side of
him. Something new? I repeated, quickly following up with a demeaning scoff of
skepticism and a mocking tone. What, youve never held someones hand?
He shook his head.
A tremor of unfamiliar emotion sent goose bumps down my back, putting an
immediate stop to my tugging. My sour expression dissolved into one of awkward
surprise. What was happening? Was he serious? I felt so incredibly tense following him
up the path behind the mansion, but the warmth of his hand made me reluctant to
pull away. Slowly, I relaxed the stiffness in my fingers, feeling the rigid outline of my
pride melt beneath the flow of his sincerity.
The path wound up like a snake, arching up a hill that led to dried grass and wilted
green. I didnt recognize it at first, but as the mansion came back into view I realized
we made an awkward U-turn. The balcony I once thought of escaping from quickly
came into view. Ah thats your room! I said suddenly, flinging my other hand up to
point to the open doors.
Asher chuckled lightly, falling back a few steps so that he was no longer leading. He
released my hand when I moved to walk past him, to the dry fountain in the midst of
the dying garden.
Where are we? I asked.
My mothers garden. It hasnt been tended to since she left, so its not much to look
at, but I have a lot of good memories here.

434

My feet stopped. I turned to glance back at him, the shame poking holes in my gut
making any attempts at eye contact extremely difficult. Why why did you bring me
here?
He gave me that boyish smile again, the one that always made my heart flutter
before; but now I just felt a dull ache, a disgraced pain where my arrogance used to
bedid I deserve that smile after what I had done? Asher moved forward, taking up
my hand once again in his own as he led me towards the fountain. We moved
counter clock wise around the abandoned structure, to a light brown bench planted
just at the threshold of a would-be flowerbed.
Sit with me? he asked carelessly.
The belt buckle felt so incredibly heavy. My knees effortlessly gave in, plopping my
weight down onto the wooden bench with a loud thump. I nervously stole a glance in
his direction before deciding it best to focus my attention onto the dried up fountain.
The silence wasnt awkward, somehow it was comfortable, serene, but instead of
enjoying it I felt the need to break it. Why did we come here?
You dont like it?
Thats not what I meant I tried to adequately readjust my words in an intelligent
manner before continuing. Why did you suddenly want to go for a walk?
Ashers smile faded, his eyes lowering to the ground as soft brown lashes veiled the
light hue of his iris. I focused purely on his eyelashes, on the slight curve at the tips, the
feathery texture that made me want to touch. My heartbeat escalated just watching
him. Because of my pinpointed attention on his facial features, I noticed the hints of a
struggle as he sought for an answer, causing my guilt-heavy heart to tighten. I found
myself aching to see his smile return.
Nevermind, I said, interrupting his train of thought. I like walks. And fresh air, I
added as I forced on a smile of my own. Thanks for bringing me here.
His eyes flickered up to me, holding both relief and surprise. My smile turned genuine
when he offered me a taste of his crooked grin, setting my chest on fire. I rocked back
against the bench, exhaling with the movement of my own strained body. My eyes
remained glued to his face, drinking in the features I wanted to forever burn into my
retinas. I watched the rising sun brighten the sand in his hair, turning the strands gold
where the light reflected, and trickle across his broad shoulders in a picturesque
scene. It didnt feel real to me, being with him like that. None of it felt real.
So I began, blinking my gaze away from him after some difficulty. This is your
moms garden? Why is it so dead?
435

I suppose I never considered taking care of it. I always thought shed come back.
I glanced down to the wilted flowerbed, to the neglected overgrown bushes, to the
coven of weeds, wondering how his mother went about her gardening. Did she hire a
gardener? Several gardeners? Or did she like to get her hands dirty the way my mom
did? The color of Moms hair burst into my memory; that rich orange that seemed
almost red, the thick locks broken into curls, the frizzy strands that swayed in the
slightest breeze. Yellow flowers framed the green around her, pink gloves pushed
against the soil, her lips drew up into a laugh and she turned to look back at me.
Whered you go? Ashers voice peeked. I jolted upward, whisking my head back to
him as my lungs felt the strain of filling with fresh cold air.
Sorry, bad habit of zoning out, I chuckled, giving a nervous lick to my lower lip.
What were you thinking about? His head tilted, canted innocently toward me.
My mom, I spoke without thinking. If he hadnt followed up with the next question, I
wouldnt have even noticed what I said.
What was her name?
Ice washed over me. I immediately turned my head away, choosing to study my
hands as my fingers pressed against the stiffness of the cast on my thumb. I dont
remember, I lied. I didnt want to remember. Amnesia would be awesome if it came
in a little blue bottle with a cork at the top, Alice-in-Wonderland style.
Will you tell me one day? If you remember? he asked, surprising me.
Why? I questioned skeptically.
I want to know more about you.
I met his eyes, staring into the grey pools until an abnormal sense of shyness weighed
my eyelids down. My head soon followed, hanging low enough for my chin to touch
my chest. Oh yeah? I laughed dryly, thinking it suddenly best to turn a serious
situation into a joke. More about me, eh? Did you want to know my favorite color
too? Favorite food? What I wanted to be when I grew up?
All of the above, he chuckled.
Fuck, what was with him? You first, I challenged; not yet trusting myself to speak,
afraid I would verbally bring up my mom again.

436

Hmm, he hummed, tilting his head back to follow the clouds drift overhead while he
contemplated his responses. I brought my eyes up to watch him, able to find more
bravado when he wasnt directly looking at me. Green. Pizza. And as for a
hypothetical occupation during childhood, I dont know. No ones ever asked me that
before.
Not even when you were little? No one ever asked what you wanted to be? No
fireman or astronaut options? Hows that possible? I jeered.
Again, the sweet smile came. I winced away from it this time, finding myself unworthy
of witnessing its existence. No. It was just always assumed Id take over the family
business. What about you?
Well that sucked. He was never even given a chance to have a childhood dream? I
frowned at this new bit of information as I recalled my own unrealistic, childish plans for
the future. I wanted to be a fireman for the longest time, I divulged. That or
Batman. Needless to say, neither one panned out. After meeting Anna though, I
always thought about becoming a cook. Maybe having my own diner one day. I
found myself sighing tiredly, my shoulders slouching as I sunk into the bench. I really
miss Annas diner.
Ah, that reminds me, he said after a moment of silence, sitting up suddenly. I
observed him reach into his pocket, digging around the expensive fabric to draw out
what I first thought to be a small tree ornament. As his arm extended out toward me, I
got a better look at the object. It was a remarkably small recreation of Annas diner, a
flat plastic carving meant to be a keychain.
I plucked the plastic out of his hand, turning it a few times as I studied the details, the
colors, the writing. It was an adorable, accurate version of my haven. What is this? I
asked.
A gift. So you can have your diner with you wherever you go.
Was he trying to make me feel like shit? Why was he being so nice to me? Fuck, my
guilt was going to eat me alive. What, no cryptic message in a box this time? I
mumbled ungratefully. My fingers bent the plastic back and forth, the paranoid part of
my brain doubting the sincerity as the possibility of the keychain being another
tracking device popped into my thoughts. Its so tiny. The colors arent even right, I
continued to bash the gift, belittling it, trying to convince myself that Asher hadnt
touched a confidential part of me with his simple act of kindness.
His hand flickered out in a flash, snatching the keychain from my fingers where I held it
by the chain. Well if you dont want it he sighed dramatically. For a moment I
thought I actually hurt his feelings, which for some reason made me want to instantly
437

recant my statements, but when I glanced up to see his grinning face I knew he was
toying with me.
Hey, I gasped. I didnt say that. Give it back.
I think Ill give it to Miss Anna instead.
Didnt you say it was a gift for me? Come on, give it back. I leaned forward as I
spoke, stretching my arm across his torso to reach for the mini-diner. He held it high
enough for simple reaching to become futile, so I stepped up my game by crouching
up on the bench to elevate myself. He surprised me when his other hand brushed
against my waist, his arm curling against my side. His fingers collided against mine, our
knuckles grazed, and as we both struggled for the keychain our weight tipped over.
With a soft plop, we were on the grass, Asher flat on his back with me on top of him.
My hand had closed over his, the keychain cupped in between our palms, held safe in
the coven of body temperature that increased in heat the moment I felt his fingers dip
beneath the warmth of my shirt.
I didnt think, just acted, pressing my lips against his the moment I noticed them part.
He eagerly accommodated me, freely providing the affection I tried to wean from his
lips. My fingers ran along the side of his face, pressing into his cheekbone, up towards
his temple, where my touch dove into his hair. He rewarded my tug on his hair with a
soft groan, sending electricity out through my body from the spark at his lips. The hand
beneath my shirt tightened on my spine, holding on tight enough to hug my body
against his as he finally abandoned the keychain. I barely got a chance to close my
fingers around the sentimental gift before we rolled on the grass, readjusting our
positions.
I caught sight of a figure in the distance when the world spun, moving my location
from top to bottom. Was that a statue? A shadow? A person? Fuck, I didnt care.
Asher tasted so good.
Asher! Daniels voice came from afar, progressively growing louder. Asher! Ash!
Hey hey you got.. a call His panting became apparent when he was close
enough for me to hear his footsteps. My vivacity winded down, leveled by the
presence of a third party during what should have only been for the two of us. I slowed
my actions, letting Asher do most of the work while tension rippled back into my
muscles.
Take a message, Asher replied offhandedly, his lips still pressed insistently against
mine.

438

Its about the meeting. They want to move it up... to tomo tomorrow Daniel
continued to struggle with air, clearly tired from his run.
Asher stopped the kiss prematurely, pulling back enough for his eyes to wash over me.
I felt my heart sink at the characteristic frown on his face, the stoic look in his eyes; the
mask I used to think was his normal expression. He slowly sat up, offering me a sigh
before climbing to his feet. Im sorry, I have to take this, he whispered.
Before I had a chance to respond, Asher started to jog back down the path that
snaked around to the mansion. Daniel and I both watched him go, fading into the
distance until he became a spec in the chain of colors dotting the landscape. I
offered a lick to my lower lip as I stood up to pat my pants clean, unable to shake the
nervous feeling boiling in my gut. What meeting? I asked Daniel.
Business meeting, he answered quickly, making me believe the response was
rehearsed. Lets head back, I didnt get a chance to finish my pancakes.
Yeah, sure, I agreed half-heartedly.
He led the way, beginning a calm stroll through the abandoned garden. We didnt
exchange any words; he didnt comment on my public display of affection and I
didnt acknowledge that he witnessed it. I studied the keychain in my possession the
entire time, rotating it across the surface of my palm, taking in every detail,
appreciating every crevice. Id never received something so personalized.

When we neared the house, a set of booming voices echoing from the confines of the
big blue house spurred Daniels walk into a run. I soon followed him, sprinting in
through the open door that led back inside with my gift clutched tightly in one hand.
By the sound of it, two people were in the midst of a heated argument. I knew exactly
who those two people were.
Vincenzos voice flowed out from the foyer, spouting indecent nonsense in a
language I didnt recognize. Ashers voice followed, responding in words I didnt have
the privilege of knowing. As I turned the corner, I got a chance to see Daniel pushing
Asher back, away from the angry Italian seething by the front door and down the hall.
Whats going on? I asked, approaching Vincenzo while the other two disappeared
into another room.

439

Nothing, Vincenzo snapped. He didnt even bother looking at me; he immediately

turned to wander back into the kitchen, where he plucked out a cigarette from a
white packet and lit up. A halo of smoke soon formed behind his head, fogging up the
room with a dull grey color. His cigarette hung delicately off the corner of his mouth,
the tip fervently burning. He moved to lean against the island in the middle, beside
Alrick, who was filling tiny red shot-glasses with fresh alcohol.
That didnt look like nothing. Is there another new definition in the Webster Dictionary I
need to know about? I tried to joke.
Hey kiddo, my German gave me a broad though uneven grin. How you doing?
It was only then that Vincenzo turned to actually look at mewell, more like glower at
me. I frowned at him, meeting his glare with a stubborn one of my own. The white
glaze across his blind eye haunted me, reflecting a sense of shame I wanted to deny.
He breathed out rigidly, flaring his nostrils as smoke weaved free of his lungs. With a roll
of my shoulders in what I desired to be an innocent shrug, I sat down on the opposite
side of the Island.
My fingertips busied themselves with patterns in the stone of the counter, tapping the
black dots scattered around the brown lines along the surface. Somehow tracing
invisible figurines along the patchwork of the stone seemed better than resuming any
sort of communication with the angry Italian. He seemed ready to break something.
Or someone.
Vincenzo appeared to agree that conversation wasnt the best idea. He quietly
finished his cigarette, only to open up his pack and grab another without a word
spared. The stench of tobacco was slowly overriding the windowless kitchen. I
coughed, waving a hand in front of my face to show my dismay as he fetched the
lighter meant to start a fresh fire. When did he turn into a chain-smoker? After another
agitated glare thrown my way, most likely due to the volume of my coughs escalating,
the Italian suddenly stood.
Where are you going? I asked.
To get more Vodka.
My eyes wandered to Alrick, who was increasingly losing the ability to completely
keep his eyes open. He blinked rapidly, let his head bob down, then grumbled
unintelligently in German before jerking his skull back up. His large fingers toyed with
the shot glass in front of him, teetering it to one side, then the other, rocking it until it
tumbled onto its width. Sober was definitely not in his vocabulary just then.
You guys having a drinking party? I snorted.
440

Oh yeah, and were going to be smoking all night too. Arent we, Alrick? he
chuckled teasingly, allowing his cigarette to rest on the corner of his mouth so he
could use his good hand to pat the drunks back.
Whats the special occasion?
Vincenzos smirk faded, leaving behind a fatigued expression that withered the vague
beauty in his scars. No occasion, he mumbled around the girth of his cigarette. The
scars on the left side of his face appeared darker that day, deeper; thick riverbeds in
the plane of his pale skin that foreshadowed the grief to come. I observed the light
sink into the ridges as he turned away from me.
I watched him go, lowering my head down onto my crossed arms with a building
sense of dread. Why had the mood changed so dramatically? What had I missed
during my period of absence? I considered asking Alrick, but the giant of a man didnt
exactly look coherent. He was going to have one hell of a headache in the morning.
Im sorry, kiddo, Alrick spoke unexpectedly, his voice barely audible. My eyes shot up
to him, both eyebrows raised, my brain not catching onto the context of his apology.
Sorry for what? I asked him. He didnt appear to hear me, or my question, as his eyes
remained on the empty shot glass in front of him. He didnt even seem to notice me
take up Vincenzos seat as I scooted it closer before settling down beside him and
leaning forward, my elbow propped beside his larger arm. Alrick? What are you sorry
about?
The drunk jerked up, his eyes widening a moment before both eyelids sunk down. The
red veins expanding across his eyeballs resembled an army of fire ants attacking the
last blue flower for the sake of survival. I followed the lines to the center of the pupil,
where the black void swallowed up my conscience. Alrick? I called again, trying to
win his attention. He mumbled something I didnt catch, but I mirrored his skewed smile
to the best of my ability. A chortle, a cough, and he reached out for the empty shot
glass in front of him. Alrick, I growled this time, smacking my palm down on his
knuckles to stop the action. His eyes darted up to me again, a bit more focused now
that I had blocked his attempt at inquiring more alcohol. Why are you sorry?
The gentle giant rumbled from deep in his chest. His eyes remained on me, but to my
dismay he remained answerless. I couldnt imagine anything the sweet German would
feel apologetic for. Hed never done anything bad to me; but then again, there was
one thing I could think of that might induce guilt. Is it because you told me to run,
Alrick? I pushed. Did you know I would be in danger? Did you know something bad
would happen to me? I paused for a response, but he gave me none. Did you know

441

Id be hurt? I couldnt stop the hint of betrayal reflected in my voice. Is that why you
told me to run?
Thunk.
In one fell swoop Alrick rose, sending the shot glass beneath our hands rolling across
the Island as his hip smacked against my stool. I rocked backward, barely grabbing
onto the edge of the countertop to preserve my equilibrium. Ruhn, he barked,
almost scoffing at me. I tol-d yew tew ruhn, he said more firmly, though still managed
to slur enough of his words to sound disjointed. I watched as the anger literally
bubbled up to his expression, darkening the canvas for the fire ants.
Fuck, was he a violent drunk?

442

An empty shot glass rolled off of the countertop where my hand smacked against the
surface, and as I tried to erect my slanted stool to grant myself balance, the fragile
object plummeted to its doom. It met a loud demise on the kitchen tiles, easily
breaking into several sharp pieces that spread out like fireworks across the floor. The
bits of orange and red bounced past my feet, clinking happily in a dance of reflective
light that began the bad omens of the new day.
The big oaf reached out to wrap both arms around my body and tug me forward,
swiping me off my seat. He hugged me tight, making me feel like the rabbit Lenny
smothered in a book I read in third grade. Soft bunny, I expected him to say. He
rubbed my head into his chest, cradling me with the natural instincts of a parent. I
instantly felt homesick for Zack, for the big Santa that would smile every time he saw
me.
Im sorry, Alrick kept saying.
I bent my knees down, swaying out beneath the curve of his arms to squeeze through
his muscled grip. He kept his arms in that entranced circle, holding the shadow of my
previous position. The simplicity of the raw sorrow on his face astonished me, releasing
a snake into my Garden of Eden, striking me down to a mortal state of being. What
had made him so sad? Was it really something concerning me? I felt spellbound by his
expression, unable to comprehend my hand in the birth of his anguish.
Alrick? I tested, reaching out to gingerly graze my fingertips against his elbow,
wanting desperately to snap him out of it. It worked, but not in the way Id hoped. His
eyes shot open, locking crosshairs onto me and cocking the mental shotgun. Ruh-Roh.
You cant be here, he gasped suddenly. You need to leave.
I barely had time to take a step back. His large hand swung out to snag against the
front of my shirt, curling blunt fingers into the material that managed to tighten the
atmosphere around my lungs with a single tug. I suddenly understood why he was
considered dangerous.

443

My shoes held limited friction against the tiled floor; within a matter of seconds hed
dragged me to the front door, where he fumbled with the key attached to his
necklace to open the door. RAUS! he yelled angrily. I didnt need to speak German
to know he wanted me out of the house. I strained against the grip on my clothing,
twisting beneath the arch of his elbow to escape him. I couldnt wiggle away. He
wouldnt let go. In fact, he was pushing me out. The only thing I could think of was to
disrobe, but in the midst of taking my sweater off I felt cold air sweep into the house
and lick my bare skin.
The door was already open.
Alrick forced me two steps forward before I was jerked back by another outside
source. I choked on the lining on the inside of my hoodie as it was finally jerked off,
leaving my hair a mess and my shirt hiked halfway up my chest. Around my waist sat a
flesh safety belt made of a sturdy arm that anchored me to its hosts body. I didnt
know who was holding me, but whoever it was had just saved me from getting thrown
out on my ass. I blinked up past my frizzy hair to the drunk, angry German still towering
over me, feeling more dazed than disoriented.
Stop it, Vincenzo hissed from over my shoulder.
The German reached out with his other hand, grabbing onto my arm to jerk me
forward as his bloodshot eyes darted down to his shorter comrade. HE HAS TO GO!
Alrick demanded. His angry voice boomed against the walls of the foyer, echoing
back tenfold as the hold on my stomach tightened. The stitches etched into my skin
ached, reminding me of their existence when the soreness in my abdomen spread out
through my core. I groaned against the strength Vincenzo used to keep me planted in
place, but he never loosened his grip. He held me tight against his chest with his good
arm, establishing his dominance and standing his ground. I could feel his wounded
arm stuck in a sling pressed firmly against my back, squeezed between our bodies.
The two fired off into a heated argument in German.
I winced at the bursts of volume Alrick emitted, feeling the need to shrivel up and hide
in a dark corner rise several times within my gut. The trade in words lasted a mere few
seconds, a quick back-and-forth with Vincenzo surprisingly as the calm, collected
voice. Something the Italian said finally brought the drunks eyes down to my terrified
expression; he grew quiet, sad again, and his grip slowly faded on my arm as his rage
waned.
He only offered a soft grunt before turning to fee-fi-fo-fum back to the kitchen, my
sweater still clutched in one hand. The quiet lull that followed him allowed me to pick
up on Vincenzos breath, softly pulsing against my shoulder.

444

What did you do to him? Vincenzo sighed incredulously. I jumped at his voice, my
nerves crackling and popping against the base of my skin.
Nothing, I lied. After one tap from my fingers, he relaxed his grip enough for me to
step away from him. Hes just drunk people do stupid things when theyre drunk.
Oh? my Italian responded coolly. I turned to face him, instantly recognizing that he
knew exactly what Id done to goad poor Alrick. Had he overheard? Had Alrick told
him? Maintaining eye contact with Vincenzo proved painfully difficult. I didnt want to
look into the faces of the people I had plotted againstas heartless as I wanted to be,
the remorse was already creeping up my esophagus.
I have a right to know, I reasoned in a shamed whisper.
Vincenzo laughed dryly, shaking his head in a movement that turned his curls into
pendulums. I thought I told you to grow up, he said coldly, stepping past me to give
one firm shove to the front door in order to shut it.
I flinched, taking a physical step away from him. I felt like a scolded child that hadnt
done anything wrong. My first instinct was to explain myself, to beg him to understand,
put himself in my shoes, see it my way; but that wouldnt have done much for maturity
points. I fell silent instead, watching as he stared with the eye no longer capable of
sight.
After a condescending sigh, the Italian followed up with; Go to sleep. Im not in the
mood for you right now.
Right, I forgot thats all Im good for: keeping Ashers bed warm. This time it was
Vincenzo that winced, though for once it gave me no sense of contentment. I
regretted it the moment I spoke.
Did you want to sleep with me?
The offer wasnt anything near what I expected him to say. It drained any anger right
out of me, replacing it with a numb sense of astonishment. What was he offering? His
eyes flickered over my head for a split second before returning to me. I watched
mutely as he reached his good hand out toward my head, fingers arched in a perfect
position to cup my cheek. He dug his fingers into my hair instead, stroking inky strands
back before he looped his arm around my shoulders. A step forward, a pull, and I was
back at close proximity with the warmth of his body.
You can sleep in my bed tonight. Ill hold you tight, wrap an arm around you and
whisper in your ear, he purred in a charming tone Id never heard him use before. The
pinprick of his five oclock shadow sent a shiver down my spine, briefly knocking me
445

against him. I smelt the tobacco on his breath, warming the skin along my neck as my
blood boiled to the surface. There was something dangerously alluring about having
his lips glide along the length of my throat, and so wrong at the same time. Was he
mocking me? Toying with me? I had no way of knowing.
Vincenzo, I croaked.
Yeah, thats it. Youll be screaming my name by the time Im done with you, he
exhaled into my skin.
Stop it, I growled, jerking away from him. My hands went out to push at his chest
and thankfully I managed to stop myself seconds before making contact with his
injured shoulder. Not that I needed to push, hed already released his hold. When I
canted my head up to glare daggers into his skull, I realized he was no longer looking
my way. I stole a moment to drink in the fierce yet poetic determination on his face
before turning to follow the line of his gaze.
Oh.
Daniel and Asher stood a few steps away, having stopped at the mouth of the
hallway to watch us. My lips swept into a frown while inwardly my stomach dropped.
Shit, fuck, damn. By the time I thought to look back at Vincenzo he was already
disappearing into the kitchen, holding that bottle of vodka he had momentarily set
down when he saved me. I watched him approach Alrick, who was stomping around
the kitchen in a scavenger hunt for more alcohol.
The strain of my circumstances visibly echoed in those involved within my circle of hell:
Alrick only settled down on a seat long enough for Vincenzo to pour him another
round. My Italian lit up another cigarette and sat on a stool he pulled closer to the
island. I watched them waste away in the only personal escapes they could allow
themselves. This was my fault, whatever this was; Id caused a ripple in Ashers domain,
waves of subtle mutiny that splashed against the edges of their private world.
I wasnt ready to take responsibility for it.
I turned to venture out to the hall, brushing past Daniel and avoiding Asher altogether.
I didnt want to risk looking at him just then, not with the guilty thoughts running
through my head. I just wanted to distance myself from them; I didn't want to face
what I'd done, what I was supposed to do.
Daniel stopped me by putting a hand on my shoulder. His other hand moved out to
curl against my side, tilting down to give a small tug to the front of my shirt. You need
to be more careful, he chided. My eyes trailed down to my stomach, where I noticed
a dark substance flattening the fabric against my skin: the new bandage strewn
446

across my flesh was already wet with fresh blood. I sighed at the substance, hating
how easily it continued to inch out of me. Wait for me in the other room? Ill get my
bag, he said, signaling the way for me.
I nodded, giving a small shrug to remove his hand from my body before continuing on
my way. Ill take care of it, I heard him inform Asher.
Back I went towards the room holding the fireplace I adored so much: though with no
fire inside to warm the small cave, it seemed as soulless and empty as the rest of the
house. Throwing my weight down into a comfy couch, I gathered my legs into my
stomach and dipped a hand under my shirt. It probably didnt help my wounds that I
kept ripping stitches left and right by doing shit I wasnt supposed to be doing. A
glance at my fingertips assured me that, yes, I was still bleeding. And it didnt feel
good. With nausea churning in my stomach, I darted off the couch to rush to the
bathroom upstairs. I still hadnt discovered any other bathrooms in the expansive
mansion.
The limited amount of nutrition Id digested quickly became part of the mess I flushed
down the toilet. By my third flush, a knock at the door hinted that Daniel had found my
new hiding place. I gave a groan of acknowledgement, which was thankfully enough
for him to know he could enter. The click of the door was louder than the sound of his
footsteps, quiet, careful, carrying no real weight to them. He knelt by me and curved
his warm palm over my shoulder, offering a gentle squeeze.
I guess the eggs werent a good idea.
I groaned again, pushing his hand off my shoulder as I rocked away from the toilet
seat. Not funny.
Let me see, Daniel said politely. The sound of his bag hitting the floor brought my
eyes up, reluctantly, to his face. I obliged by raising my shirt and tucking it under my
arms, baring the patch of disgusting red smeared across my stomach. Are you feeling
alright? You look a little pale.
I hastily blinked my gaze away, suddenly worried that my sins reflected on my face. I
dont like blood, I told him honestly.
Ill get started then, he chuckled, finding my phobia amusing. While he reached out
to touch my sore stomach, I pinpointed my attention on a dot over his shoulder in
hopes of distracting myselfbut the sharp pain in my skin shot tears up to my eyes and
a curse to my lips. Sorry, sorry. I have to pull these out, Daniel mumbled non-tooapologetically.
Do I need stitches? Cant you just put a bandaid on it? I huffed indigently.
447

The wounds pretty deep, so no, not unless you plan on bleeding to death some time
tonight, he advised with a creepy, hollow smile on his face.
Pass, I sighed.
Figured as much, he nodded gravely.
The tug of the thin pieces of polymer in my skin held more agony to them than the
actual stabbing that caused their placement in the first place. Although Daniel was
precise and quick about cutting the little buggers off, I still felt the unavoidable urge to
complain. Oh wow that doesnt feel good, I panted with the effort it took to stop
myself from screeching like a banshee.
The painkillers are probably just wearing off. Ill give you some more when Im
finished, he stated. I focused on his face, watching the dull brown eyes that held bits
of passion in a mist of fortitude. Daniel would have probably been a good doctor if he
hadnt dropped out of school; he seemed to know what he was doing, he held an air
of confidence, and there was a sense of ease when he picked up the needle tooh
fuck.
I hastily closed my eyes after he rubbed the numbing cream onto my flesh. A few
minutes later I felt the understandable tug-and-pull of stitches returning to where they
belonged, reverting to my skin. My hitched breathing was the only thing that broke the
silence in the bathroom, with Daniel working diligently to repair what my actions had
torn. He worked so fast that I barely noticed him finish up when he taped a fresh piece
of gauze across my stomach.
Thankfully you didnt rip too many stitches, but stomach wounds take a while to heal.
Try to take care of it better, he advised wisely. I nodded, pulling my shirt back down
to cover my flesh as he fetched a few pills for me. He dropped them into my open
palm, dismissing my need for liquid to down the capsules.
Hey, I called out, reaching out to grab onto his sleeve as he stood up to leave.
Thanks. I know its probably not fun to keep patching me up, but thanks.
Sure, Daniel replied politely.
He left as quietly as he came in, settling that unease back into my bones. My fingers
trailed down to the buckle on my belt, pressing against the edges of the metal, down
to the little latch at the bottom. It was extremely disconcerting to think Id already
forgotten the difference between right and wrong.

448

I sat in the bathroom a while longer, staring at the wall until I could have sworn it
moved. The pills helped taint the soreness of my new stitches, but they also brought on
a sense of drowsiness that irritated me. I still wasnt happy with the idea of sleep. In
hopes of distilling the process, I pushed myself off my feet and forced myself to walk,
first out of the bathroom, then down the stairs.
A pause at the kitchen doorway displayed only Alrick, bent over the countertop and
seemingly unconscious. I avoided approaching him, instead sneaking against the wall
to loom closer to the refrigerator. Coffee would have been my ideal way of waking
up, but I didnt want to risk mulling around to make it with the sleeping giant just a few
steps away. I didnt want him to go crazy-care-bear on me again; so I grabbed a
bottle of soda before heading back out.
I meandered into the living room next, cradling the perspiring bottle against my neck
with hope that the shock of the cold would keep me awake. Hello? I called into the
quiet hush of the room. Nothing. Go figure, no one present when I was actually looking
for company.
I snatched a newspaper and plopped down into the couch to my immediate right,
filling it up with my weight. The stitches in my gut sent out faded splinters of pain
through my core in protest of my actions, bringing a slight wince to my face. In an
attempt to ignore the discomfort, I busied myself with the information in my hands
not that Ive ever been very involved with the recent news, or remotely interested in
worldwide events, but I needed something to do.
This mournful attempt at entertainment didnt need to be kept up for long; even with
my determined devouring of sparkling caffeine, it took ten minutes for the painkillers to
knock me out.

I awoke a few hours later, feeling mildly disoriented because the sun was no longer
where I left it. A warm blanket covered my body, tucked against my shoulder and
beneath my feet. The crackling of fire drew my attention across the room, where the
warmth of the bright flames brought a smile to my lips. Was it Asher? Had he covered
me up? I searched the room for his presence, my eyes first going to his chair before
daring to run over the rest of the room. Nothing. I shrugged the warm fabric off of my
body, running my fingers through my hair as I stood to head into the hall.
I checked the door to his conference room first, thinking he might be caught up in a
business meeting of some sort, but found it disappointingly empty. No one in the poker
449

room either. I found a closet and bathroom next, neither one holding the presence I
yearned for. A few more doors down, just as I was about to give up, I discovered a
monumental treasure trove.
An expansive range of colors instantly greeted me when I opened the door; rows
upon rows of books, running up and down the walls, shelves all the way to the ceiling,
colors organized and in disarray at the same time. I closed the door behind me with a
soft exhale of breath, my mind virtually blown away by the collection of literature. I
rushed forward to touch the nearest book, ran my finger up the spine, down to the
wooden level of the shelf. So many. At random I pulled books off shelves, flipping them
open to read the first chapter, to skim the summary and at times learn the names.
So this was the library Doctor Daniel had mentioned before.
I found a book on Carpathians, an old race of vampires; one about the struggles of a
widowed scientist searching for truth in his marriage; another about a lawyer on a new
carrier path as a floristbooks of every flavor and genre, lining the library shamefully
not open to the public.
Enough time passed with my attention dancing across pages inked with words for my
eyes to feel tired. I strolled up, down, and weaved through several aisles of books
before reaching what could only be called a clearing, where a quaint little desk sat
beside the window, accented by an old-fashioned reading lamp.
The curiosity of a cat tugged me forward on a thin white string. I approached the desk
without heed or caution. It was too picturesque, too peculiar to resist. My fingers ran
along the edge of the wood, up to the base of the light where I tapped a fingertip
against the green glass arched over the lamps bulb. The soft clink took my gaze down
to two stone gargoyles holding a set of smaller books upright at the edge of the desk.
My gaze stopped on the third one from the right.
Artemis Fowl? Cute, though for some reason not fitting the Asher Pickett I knew. I
opened it to the first page to see the authors signature, and a dedication to none
other than Asher himself. A puff of air slipped past my lips, moving with enough
velocity to sway my bangs. Figures. I replaced the book where I found it before
resuming my exploration of the desk.
I edged the first drawer open to find some papers with charts that held no meaning to
me. The second drawer had more books, a few on the economy, one self-help
pamphlet about Better Decisions and a green stack of post-its. The third drawer
locked. After a few stubborn tugs, I crouched down to get a closer look. It didnt have
an ordinary lock; no keyhole, just an imprint where a rectangular object could fit snug
beneath the latch.

450

Id seen that imprint before.

Unable to rein in my curiosity, I made my way back to the kitchen where I was greeted
by an eerie silence that teased me. Uncertain of Alricks location, I slowed my steps
enough to press my weight against the wall. Double-oh-sevens theme song burst out
in full volume within my head as I wormed along the surface, slightly leaning so only
one eye initially peeked around the corner.
The giant still seemed puckered out. He sat hunched over the countertop with his
head cramped against folded arms and both legs pressed against the island. Alrick?
I tested softly, not wanting to awaken the beast. He didnt stir. Alrick? I called again,
quieter this time. With no reply from the German, I conjured enough bravado to risk
taking careful, quiet steps forward.
Upon reaching him, I slanted enough of my upper body to clutch at the counter. With
one hand steadying my weight, I extended the other to reach for the glint of silver
strewn across the back of the Germans neck. He grunted softly when I first touched
the chain, inducing a spike of terror that momentarily paralyzed me. One. Two. Three.
Four. His breathing evened out again, his head slopped, and I continued to fish the
chain up out of his shirt.
Success! I grabbed the heavy indentation of the elusive key before bringing my other
hand off the counters stone. Once again I paused to make sure the drunk didnt
notice me before unlatching the clasp. The soft chime of the chain crumbling in on
itself echoed in the warmth of my stomach. Any minute now I expected the bright
blue eyes of my German, now bloodshot with grief and exhaustion, to look up at me in
what could only be a calm before the storm; that last glimpse of beauty before my
demise. Despite his kindness in the past, I didnt put it past the usually gentle giant to
beat me to a pulp... especially with the alcohol in his system.
That or hug me to death.
With that pleasant thought in place I backed out of the kitchen, the key clutched in
one palm. I heard Alrick shift and groan quietly behind me, but paid no mind to him. I
already had the key. So I went back to the library, to the drawer protected by a key
that didnt resemble other keys. I pushed the rectangle in, tempting the handle with
my fingertips, holding my breath as I waited for that light click of the lock to give away.
In a gust of air I jerked the drawer open that shouldnt have been opened. I found
what should have remained hidden.
I found me.
As I picked up the worn, tan folder resting on a mound of papers, something peculiar
happened. I saw my name. My real name, and a cold wave of nostalgia washed over
451

me at the direct visual connection to the name I had denied myself for so long. My
brain completely rebooted, unwilling to acknowledge the memories that longed to
surface with the familiar title. My name. It was my name.
Hes paranoid and smart. He screens everyone thoroughly, no room for error, the Chief
had warned me.
Name, age, heritage, it was all there inside the folder.
The first paper I found on the stack was a copy of my birth certificate, the second a
copy of my school records, and the third? Just a picture. Of my family.
I felt my knees literally give out from under me, plopping me into the chairs hold. My
mind unwove, falling apart in strips of ribbon that held the structure of my identity
together. I grabbed the family photo, holding it up against the light. To say I was on
the verge of tears was an understatement, but the shock of those happy faces staring
back at me kept the moisture at bay.
My mothers face tore holes into my gut, her energetic smile just as I remembered it,
her hair wild with curls and lightly fizzing at the edges. Nathans little body was drawn
into a hug between her arms, his laughing face pressed against her cheek as her
fingers delicately tickled his stomach. Dad and I stood idly in the back, looking slightly
amused by the show as we waited for the timer on the camera to go off. God, I
remembered that day perfectly.
Muffin?
My eyes flickered up to the giant blonde of a man standing between two
bookshelves, looking as shocked to see me as I was to have that picture in my hand.
As soon as he took a step forward, I discarded the family photo, reaching down for the
next paper. What else was there? What else did Asher have on me?
Kiddo, stop, Alrick warned, rushing toward me.
I jolted up, folder in hand, and circled around with the desk between us as I thumbed
through the leaves of paper; a copy of my social workers report, copies of teachers
complaining about my behavior, of foster parents pegging me down as a problem
child, of the youth psychiatrist deeming me as troubled. Muffin. Muffin. STOP! he
roared, leaping forward over the surface of the desk to grab the edge of the folder.
With a swipe of his hand, the material tore backward, giving into his strength, and in a
shower of documents I felt him rip my life out of my hands.
What is all this? I shouted, at the peek of panic. He slid off the desk just as I crouched
down to grab at what I could; a newspaper clipping of the accident, a messy note
452

regarding my outbursts in class, another from my doctor explaining trauma, a hospital

transcript, proof of Anna home schooling me after my suspension. What is wha...
My voice suffocated in my throat, crawling back down my gullet when I noticed a
photograph wedged beneath the wheel of the chair.
I picked up the picture of the crumpled car freshly reeled out from the bottom of the
lake. The front had been smashed, the windshield cracked and one of the tires just a
pathetic lump of rubber. Alrick reached out to snatch the photo out of my hand, but it
didnt matter, I was already gone.
My nightmares instantly materialized. Alrick melted away in front of me, molding into
the background as it shimmered into a photographic illustration of a road. The tire
popped. The car swerved. I saw it, I saw it spin. It turned so quickly, hit a dent in the
road, spun out of sync. Dad lost control of the wheel. Mom screamed. We smacked
into the railing along the side of the bridge with enough velocity to break through the
thick wood.
Nathan burst into tears before we hit the waterI heard his little voice breach the
yelling in the front, too high-pitched to claim puberty and drenched in utter fear. His
hand came out toward me but with the seatbelt in place he couldnt reach me. He
tried. I saw him try. He wanted me to hold him, to rescue him, to save him. In hysterics,
Mom repeatedly begged my dad to slow down.
My brothers little body whipped back like a piece of licorice when we plunged into
the body of water. The lake swallowed up the sun, submerging us into a hazy darkness
that only winked at hope. With the windows down, we sank in a matter of seconds,
plummeting into the depths of real nightmares. When the water hit me, I swallowed.
Ice-cold water rushed down my throat, filling my lungs with terror.
The hand that freed me from beneath the grasp of the seatbelt wasnt a dream; it was
my mother, wrenching me out from the hold of the nylon to jerk my body out a
window. She released me as soon as I could straighten myself outI could swim, I
knew how, I took lessons over summer; but my legs wouldnt kick and my arms
wouldnt shove. The cold immobilized me. I sank.
Mom doubled back in a heartbeat, wrapping her arms around my waist and whisking
me up. We broke the surface together, gasping for air, and as I continued to be the
most painful lack of help possible she had to drag me to shore. Stay here, she told
me, pushing me onto land where I proceeded to regurgitate water from my lungs.
When I turned to look over my shoulder, I saw my mom dive back down into the large
ripples that expanded to the edges of the lake. I waited eagerly, frightened and cold,
trembling by the water with my eyes glued to the surface. I dont know how long I
waited, how long I stood there until another car pulled off the road, until the sirens and
colored lights filled my mind.
453

The first car on the scene belonged to a couple heading back home from vacation, a
sweet couple with a young son and a golden retriever. I never really saw themnot
the boy or the dog. The first face I remember after finally tearing my eyes away from
the water was Anna; pale, frightened and twisted with worry. She asked my name,
shook me, begged me to respond and tell her what happened. I dont think I said
anything to her. I just hugged her, held onto her until the blood on my clothes melted
into hers and soaked her pretty yellow dress.
Mom never came back up.

Damn it, Kiddo, I heard Alrick groan nearby. My eyelids felt heavy, but I forced them
to blink in order to bring him back into perspective. He was gathering the evidence off
the floor, shoving it into one messy pile that he tried to stuff back into the drawer. My
body slumped against a bookshelf, using only the bare necessities at that point to
function. Beyond the frenzy of my heart in my ears, I didnt focus on much else.
I didnt want to move.
You shouldnt have done that, the blonde murmured, holding more sanity to him
than before. Was he still drunk? No, it seemed time and perhaps my actions had
sobered him enough to deem normal. I, on the other hand I couldnt feel my
fingertips.
Our tumble over and against the desk had drawn the other three from their room.
Asher came in first, followed by Daniel and Vincenzo close behind. When those grey
eyes turned to me, I snapped. Whatever rage had once motivated me to reach for
Michaels gun pushed me forward, springing me off my feet and straight at the leader
of the pack. I grabbed at the antique lamp on the table, picking it up to quickly
morph it into a weapon.
Asher didnt budge when I bum rushed him, but Alrick got to me first. He grabbed at
my chest and stomach, lifting me off my feet to use my momentum to his advantage.
Pain in my abdomen burst into quakes up my arms, causing my grip to loosen enough
to drop the dangerous green lamp, searing my stomach with a pitfall feeling that
accented the gash Roger put there. Fuck, it hurt.
YOU BASTARD! I screamed accusingly at the stoic madman across the room. YOU
KNEW! THIS WHOLE TIME YOU KNEW!
454

A little voice laughed at me in the back of my head, taunting me for my stupidity. Of

course he knew. Even the cops had told me how Asher thoroughly researched those
he allowed into his life.
This whole time. You knew. You knew everything, I panted. Damnit, damn me. I was
so busy running in circles I never stopped to look around me. I should have seen it
before, I should have known.
Asher didnt respond.
You had no right! YOU HAD NO RIGHT! Why even ask? All those questions if you just
knew, why didnt you say anything? My voice trembled, despite my attempts to keep
it together, to remain strong and calm. My skull tingled, spreading the brittle remains of
my memories through my veins, turning my blood cold. At the same time, shots of rage
burst like poppy seeds through my joints, warming my skin, driving me forward. Why
didnt you say anything? I rasped, my anger boiling. You fucking BASTARD! I clawed
at the air in front of me, only taking pauses to push at the grip Alrick had on my body,
frantically trying to reach the bane of my existence.
The German didnt let go, not even when thin red lines left behind by the fury of my
nails marred his fleshbut the squeeze on my wounded stomach obviously wasnt a
good idea. While I was too filled with adrenaline to notice, Alrick withdrew when fresh
blood seeped through my bandages and once again stained my shirt. He set me
back down, clamping his hands to my shoulders to keep me anchored in place. I
swayed on my feet upon release, crushing a few pieces of paper still littering the floor.
Would you have listened? Asher asked in that blank signature tone. Would you
have listened to a single word I said? he sighed. My expression twisted into a sneer,
my jaw tightening as I ground my teeth together. It was so much fucking easier to
focus all my energy into hating him, blaming him, than dealing with the expressive
disaster of my familys death. If I called your name, would you have responded?
Yes, I lied boldly; ready to play Devils Advocate regardless of what he said. I just
wanted him to be wrong.
So of course he said it, letting the name brush free of the sweet lips Id kissed countless
of times. My thoughts reflexively shut down, closing me off to the reality of my own
existence. He repeated the name, approaching me while both hands moved to grab
at my face. He slanted my head up, cradling my skull as he pressed his forehead tight
against mine. I unwound my mind, bending back the folds of protective scar tissue
that had built up over the years. Matthew, he said again.
Dont, I gasped suddenly, pushing at his chest to enforce distance.
455

Disappointment touched his face, briefly sagging his eyebrows together. He retracted
his touch, holding both hands up a moment in surrender before taking a step back.
Yeah, he murmured knowingly beneath his breath.
Matthew, sweetheart, can you grab that spoon for me?
Matthew, settle down!
Matty, be careful with that glass, hold it with both hands now like a big boy.
Matty this is your little brother, Nathan. Hes your responsibility too. Youll watch over
him for me, wont you?
Dont you just love this dress, Matty? Your Daddy bought it for our anniversary!
Matt, youre not a little boy anymore, you can tuck yourself in.
Im sorry Matt, we cant afford a dog right now, but well discuss it in the future.
Matt, be a dear and turn the music down so Daddy can focus.
Matthew, love, dont look at me like that, you know I hate punishing you, but there are
consequences to your actions.
Matthew? Are you listening? Matthew? Matthew?
DONT! I screamed, pleading. Voices in my head, voices around me, every voice I
never wanted to hear again. The chaos in my head expanded, letting the sound swell
into a monster that roared with beastly vigor and smashed its fists into my temples.
Mom loved to dance. Nathans favorite ice cream was Rocky Road. Dad hated the
pulp in orange juice. Little bits and pieces of information suffocated me, reminding me
woefully of what I no longer had. I cupped my face into my hands, groaning in agony
as the pinprick of tears tore gashes into my eyes.
I didnt realize I was crying until Alrick pushed me straight into his chest. He hugged me
again, really hugged me, and I groaned effortlessly into his hold. If it wasnt for the
stench of alcohol burning my nostrils, I might have remained there, cozy in the comfort
of his arms forever. My fingers folded back to allow oxygen into my lungs, down
through my mouth, where it stung the lump fully formed in my airway.
Nicely done, Vincenzo chuckled dryly from the back of the room.
This is way too weird for me, Daniel sighed.
456

Shut it, my German retorted. He slid one hand down, grabbing onto my shoulders to
physically turn me away from his chest. He strategically led me out of the room so I
didnt see the other spectatorsnot that I was looking for them, the most I could do
was watch where my feet were placed. Daniel, his stomach, Alrick whispered as we
slipped into the maze of bookshelves.
Ill get my bag, I heard the would-be doctor respond.
A glance down at my stained shirt brought another sob to my lips. Thats all my life
seemed to be consisting of; blood, misery and loss. I hate him, I groaned childishly. I
want him to die. That bastard. That soulless bastard. My rants came out in aching
gasps of air, spared from the sobs that shook my shoulders. Alricks hands tightened on
my form, neither agreeing nor reprimanding me. He led me back to the safe haven of
a bedroom, though thankfully not Ashers and not upstairs.
As soon as I sat down on the bed, Daniel barged into the room. He had his handy bag
with him, which he set down on the floor while Alrick peeled my ruined shirt off of me. I
only faintly thought of the recording device when it came into view, but did nothing
about it.
I didnt give a shit just then.
Alrick sighed when he sat beside me, his eyes still bloodshot from his previous
endeavors. His fingers moved up to press against his temples, snaking down over the
back of his eyes and coming to a slow stop at the bridge of his nose. Another sigh
escaped him when he caught my gaze, his grief weighing down on his conscience as
well as his expression. His lips parted in what I expected to be an apology, but ended
as another sigh of regret. My muscles tightened, my nerves grinding from the negative
emotions I struggled to sort. That sound was seriously bugging me.
Im sorry kiddo, Alrick muttered softly beneath his breath, uttering another sigh.
Stop sighing, I snapped at him, poison practically pooling in my mouth. Youre just
as guilty as he is. Youre as careless and heartless as he is! You dont give a shit who
you hurt. Why didnt you just let me die in Hannahs room? Why didnt you just kill me?
You fucking sadistic bastard, you only brought me back here so you could torture me
more. You dont give a shit what happens to me, or anyone else! My outburst should
have been expected by then, honestly. I was on the brink of madness and any pity
offered added fuel to the fire. Its true what they say; misery loves company. My
particular brand of misery wanted to bring the whole ship crashing down with me. I
wanted to consume Alrick in the fire eating me alive.
I wanted him to hurt.

457

Alrick was speechless. He stared at me with his mouth slightly open, his eyebrows
drawn up in a sense of surprise I wanted to reach over and slap off his face. Hannah?
..Who..? I.. no, kiddo, I never wanted..
Oh, right, sure. Youre the good guy, right? Youre the hero? I forgot. The gentle giant.
But Ive seen both sides of you. You ruthless fuck. You coldhearted bastard. Youre a
fucking waste of existence. What would your daughter think if she knew? Her father, a
disgusting murdererGET OFF OF ME! I suddenly lashed out at Daniel, who was
attempting to fix my stitches. The younger blonde scowled back at me, rocking into a
crouching position that took him out of my immediate reach.
Muffin, you have to believe me, I never meant for any of this to happen Alrick
whispered softly.
Fuck. Off, I hissed.
Maybe you should leave, Daniel said firmly, turning his attention to his friend. Alrick,
please, he added when the German tried to speak again.
Yeah, leave Alrick. Go be Ashers mindless dog again! GO! I yelled spitefully. After
another sigh that earned my glare, he stood to exit the room.
Daniel resumed pulling out tools, removing them from packaging that promised
sterility. I glared back at the stranger once Alrick left, hating his calm, feeling the
inevitable urge to throw rocks into his pond. Ripples were my specialty after all. But I
didnt know this man, I didnt know how to hurt him, how to make him hurt with me
and that initially hindered my speech. What could I say? What was his button?
I dont know what the hell is going on here, he told me next. And I dont give a
crap. Im just going to fix your stitches and leave. Then you can feel free to resume
your tantrum. Now will you hold still?
No.
Were your parents disappointed in you when you dropped out of med-school? I
taunted lecherously. I bet it was a horrible blow. All that money wasted. All their
hopes and dreams crushed. Did your mother cry? Were you the disappointment of a
lifetime?
What? the would-be doctor gasped. He sat up rigidly, the color draining from his
face. How the hell?
Asher told me. He told me all about you. You dropped out because it was too hard,
right? Too much pressure? Couldnt handle it, could you. Poor little spoiled boy, had
everything handed to him all his life and when it mattered most, you just threw in the
458

towel. Youre as spineless as the rest of them. Okay, so I had no idea what I was
saying. It was pure bullshit, pure anger, a shot in the dark at the story of his life derived
from what little the cops shared, but his face gave it all away. I knew I was right the
moment he flinched.
Screw this, he scoffed suddenly. Without another word, he stormed out of the room,
making sure to slam the door behind him. I trembled at the sound but held my ground.
If anyone else came in, they would meet my vile tongue and poisoned attitude.
Several minutes passed with nothing but silence on the other side of the door. My
mouth felt dry. The empty ache in my stomach churned like hot water. The fire inside
of me steadily died. I remained rooted, remarkably drained, and listened to my mom
scream while my brother cried in the back of my head. Matthew, Matthew, Matthew,
Matthew.
I took a moment to close my eyes before I let myself cry again.

Jason used to tell me that it was my fault my mom drowned. He overheard my

nightmares in the room we used to share and gathered my terror into material to taunt
me. I used to believe him. Sometimes I still do. If I had just swam on my own if Mom
didnt have to pull me to shore, then maybe... just maybe

I think if I had slept that night, everything would have been different. If I closed my
eyes, rested my head, put pause to my malicious thoughts, the morning to come
would unfold in a completely different sequence. But I didnt sleep, and neither did my
villains. I heard the scurry of their feet outside in the early hours of morning, the muffled
voices, whispered and hushed secrets that continued to drive me insane.
I sat on the bed, turning the rectangular key over in my palm, gliding my fingers over
the ridges, memorizing the grooves in the metal. Anger welled against the walls of my
very being, prompting me to take action, to pursue vengeance. A tremor pushed me
off the bed, up to my feet, where I moved to crack the door open. Daylight streaming
in through the windows reflected off the floor, bouncing into my darkened world. It did
nothing for the darkness in my thoughts.
Fill up the cars, Vincenzos voice faintly resonated down the hall.
I peeked out in time to watch Daniel dart through the front door, holding two black
bags. A few seconds later he rushed back in, leaving the front door ajar in his haste to
complete the task given to him. My eyes ventured to the door, to the electric lock I
459

now held the key to, and I felt my legs move forward. Freedom? Escape? No, thats
not what I wanted.
My lack of a shirt, the dried blood on my stomach, the dizzy sensation tickling my brain,
none of it stopped me. I calmly strolled out of the big blue house with the key and cell
phone in my pocket, easily finding my way to two black cars parked in the driveway.
One trunk laid open, presumably being filled by the running Daniel. An echo of
footsteps from inside the mansion reminded me of his existence, and I rushed forward
to duck behind one of the vehicles just as he emerged with two more bags. The slam
of the trunk door came, followed by his muttered curse.
A glance through the back window allowed me a perfect view of him retreating back
into the house, leaving me alone with the cars. Where were they going? A meeting
perhaps? The hunger to catch Asher red-handed with a meeting gone wrong swelled
in my stomach. But there was a very immediate obstacle before me.
How to follow them?
My attention wavered to the car, where my skewed reflection tiredly looked back at
me in the buffed surface. The overdriven beat of my heart escalated to my ears,
vocally protesting what my body was about to do. I opened the front door, mindlessly
reaching down for the small lever that would pop the trunk open. It was now or never
to me, and I stupidly chose now.
I crawled into the trunk and shut the door on myself.

460

There is no satisfaction in revenge.

I didnt know that then; I was so fixated on ruining Ashers life as I thought he did mine
that I never stopped to think of the consequences involved. Of the other people
involved.
The luggage already occupying the trunk made fitting into the enclosed area
extremely difficult. I molded my body around them, against them, keeping my back
pressed on the side of the vehicle while I consciously hugged one of the bags against
my stomach. The bounce of the tires knocked my skull into the metal frame several
times, but that ache was nothing against the contraction inside my gut. My stitches
had never been completely mended.
Needless to say, the car ride sucked.
I poised myself for escape when the car eventually came to a halt. I waited for the
muffled voices on the outside to fade, signaling the coast clear. Both my hands
expanded, exploring the dark, reaching for a latch that wasnt there. My brain
stopped rattling long enough for me to realize I had no way out, shoving all the flaws
of my brilliant plan into my face. Claustrophobia tightened the darkness around me,
turning the air into thick mold ready to suffocate me. I panicked.
And started screaming.
What the fuck? Vincenzos gruff voice came seconds later, when the trunk door
rocked open to allow air into the confined hole. I instantly darted out of the back,
swinging my legs so quickly that I almost kicked the gimp Italian in the chest. He took a
few uneasy steps back, visibly shocked by my appearance.
Tada?
What. The. Fuck! he yelled.
I tried asking, I stated matter-of-factly. He sneered, his good hand curling into a fist
as he took a firm step forward.

461

Whats going on? Alricks voice boomed down the street. I turned to glance toward
him, watching the transition from alarmed to devastated on his face while he
approached us. His arms expanded out, as if he was ready to pull me into another
one of his hugs, but he paused mid-way to drop both chunks of flesh back to his sides.
We got a stow-away, Vincenzo grumbled in disapproval. Go back inside, keep
them busy. Ill take care of this. Ah, wait. Give me your jacket.
With his eyes still on me, the tall blonde peeled his brown jacket off his shoulders. He
folded it once, down the center, and flung it over Vincenzos outstretched arm. I
stared after him while he returned to a shabby grey door, his large shoulders
noticeably hunched. My glare was quickly interrupted by the punch of the Italians
good hand, shoving the jacket into my bare chest.
Youre an idiot, you know that?
I rolled some of the tension out of my shoulders before attempting to put on the warm
article of clothing. A glance up at the masked villain let me know he was in no mood
for snide comments, so I remained silent. My attention wandered instead to the narrow
street holding four cars, two of which I recognized to be Ashers, one green, one red,
and a motorcycle parked at the head of the intersection.
I thought blood made you pass out, he commented carelessly, gesturing towards
my stomach. I followed his gaze, looking over the bloody remains of a bandage I had
slapped on. I hadnt noticed it before but sure enough the nausea began to creep
tremors beneath my skin. Giving a shake of my head, I zipped up the jacket to hide
the visual discomfort and looked back to the door Alrick had disappeared through.
Is this where the meeting is? I guessed.
Fuck, he exhaled tiredly. Youre so fucking annoying. You see that one do-nottouch button and want to mash the fuck out of it, dont you? Motherfucking you
know what? I know what this is. This is God punishing me. You are Gods way of
punishing me.
You believe in God? I asked in mild disbelief.
Shut up. Get in the car, Im taking you back.
No.
His eyes locked onto mine; sparking a battle of wills he wasnt going to win. Get in the
car, he tried again.
462

No.
I jerked away when his heavy hand swung out toward me. His fingers snagged against
my jacket, grabbing enough of the fabric to sway me in my tracks during the sprint for
freedom. I twirled, disengaging myself from the hook of his grip to stride against the
trunk of the car. He lurched forward again, swiping at the air with the only set of fingers
available to him. If he had both hands, I have no doubt he would have won the brief
game of tag, but with one of his limbs stuck in a sling I held a radius wide enough to
escape.
And so I ran.
GOOMBA! his angry voice detonated behind me, roaring into the door I threw open
after racing up three short steps. The barrier creaked loudly when I pushed it open,
creaked louder when I let it slide shut. Inside what appeared to be a restaurant, three
men sat around a circular table, bent over a single ashtray holding enough residues to
start a crematory. As angry Vincenzos footsteps pounded up the steps behind me, I
stormed into the next door available.
Bingo.
The new room looked more like an apartment than a restaurant. A table and counter
in the kitchen, two couches side by side, three men sitting, two standing, and one
crouching on the floor near an open bag. Asher stood beside the couch, both hands
stuffed into his pockets, leaning just slightly towards his German bodyguard. As my
eyes adjusted to the light, I saw more than furniture and bodies. I saw guns. Guns on
tables, on hips, in laps, hands, belts.
You lost, boy? one of the strangers asked from the couch. I looked up to him with
limited interest, failing to find him threatening at that point.
Hes with me, Asher answered smoothly, sending a quick graze of his eyes around
the room. Two men near me shrugged, one scoffed and another suggestively winked
at me. Asher didnt sound at all surprised at my sudden appearance, but I recognized
it for the act it was; he needed to look cool and collected to keep his Boss-demeanor.
Beside him, Alrick threw me a shaken look, plainly unsettled by my presence.
Hey, my Italian clicked his tongue, coming to an immediate halt beside me. Wait
outside, he hissed into my ear.
I rolled my fingers into my palms, clenched, unclenched, stretched them out again
and tested their durability. My thumb didnt bend. It barely moved. I want to stay, I

463

said. With a slight brush of my fingers against my belt to turn the recorder on, I moved
to close the distance between the couch and myself.
Asher ignored me, allowing silent permission for me to remain in the room. His lapdogs
backed off then: Vincenzo retreating to sulk in a corner while Alrick purposely turned
his head away from me. I told myself I didnt care.
It wasnt quite the meeting I expected. They discussed what appeared to be a
shipment coming in soon, remaining vague and abstract in their choice of words. I
tried not to stare too much, letting my gaze wander around the room, but at times I
found myself unable to follow certain sentences or topics unless my eyes focused
specifically on their lips. The man Asher spoke to, a certain Mr. Charles, offered a
schedule and price limitations. He spoke of labor. Asher spoke of time crunches. I
stretched myself to understand.
But they werent there for that reason alone; it seemed everyone was waiting for a
third party, which arrived not ten minutes later. Four new people walked in just as the
vague conversation became too much for me to handle; three men and a woman I
instantly recognized. She still had her big gun with her, though on this special occasion
she wore a dark red shirt with jeans instead of the black attire Id seen her in last time.
Why did this woman keep showing up? I saw her the night Porto died, the day Michael
kidnapped me, and now here when I expected everything to go to hell. Who the fuck
was she?
The womans eyes lingered on me a second longer than expected. She frowned,
reaching into her pocket to pull out a small white cell phone that she dutifully jammed
a thumb into to switch on. She pushed the device to her ear, waiting on the other end
as I felt Asher shift closer to me. Yeah, uh huh. Hes here. Four. Hmm? Dont know. No,
black hair. Short. Okay.
I sensed Vincenzos eyes on me, cursing me with the wrath of doom. I didnt think I was
short, but yeah, she was probably talking about me on the phone. I kept my face
blank, denying myself the excitement and fear in my gut. Regardless of the weapons
present in the room, I didnt feel the usual rush of terror. Ill never admit out loud the
reason I felt safe in that room, but he was standing two steps to my right.
You have the location? Asher asked nonchalantly. The woman holding the white
phone nodded.
Well go in groups. My men will accompany you and lead the way. Please treat them
well, she spoke softly, politely, keeping an air of professional demeanor that unnerved
me.

464

Lets get going then, Charles spoke next. The burly man stood, leaving a dent in the
couch cushion behind him that faintly resembled a crater. Everyone followed,
collectively exiting the building in a herded fashion, bottlenecking out the back door
and pouring into the alleyway. Vincenzo stopped me at the door by grabbing onto
my arm, but instead of moving with the flow of his pull I decided to jam up traffic.
I need to talk to you, he whispered urgently.
Then talk, I spoke loudly, drawing the attention of the woman and two men
accompanying her as they tried to move past me. Vincenzo glanced up at her, then
her friends, before reluctantly releasing my arm. I offered a small roll of my shoulder as I
continued towards the exit.
The four cars waited for us at the opening that touched the main road, where two
new men protectively stood guard. One of them held a black object in his hand,
spatula-shaped, which he glided over the air surrounding the cars as he strolled
around them in circles. I moved to stand beside the woman and her companions,
picking a particularly short man to accompany.
Where are we going? I asked the stranger beside me.
This your first time, kid? the man grinned dimly.
Alex, a firm voice called me back, but I stubbornly remained rooted beside the
stranger.
No, just trying to figure out how high you are on the hierarchy. Do they not tell you
much? I taunted.
The man frowned, his expression darkening with the disrespect clearly apparent in my
tone. I could already hear the How dare you speak to me like that going through his
head. He purposefully removed his hands from his pockets, rotating his body towards
me as his eyes sized me up.
I didnt think so, I shrugged, tilting my head away. You dont look like much.
Come again? he huffed, taking a threatening step toward me.
Hey, the womans voice came. She stepped forward, grabbing the mans arm to
stop his progress. Take the next car, she instructed, signaling down the alleyway,
towards the exit. He grunted, giving me one more glare before stomping off to do as
told. Good dog.

465

Alex, Asher called again, and I of course continued to ignore his authority. That
name really pissed me off. I stared after the stranger moving away from me, trying to
think of any other taunts to instigate enough madness to get a reaction out of him. I
needed to know where they were going.
Matthew, right? the woman whispered, rippling my eyes straight to her face. It felt
weird to hear it, to associate myself with it, but the vortex had already opened and I
could no longer deny the name my mother gave me. Ah, I mean Muffin, she
corrected herself when the color drained from my face. Dont worry, your secret is
safe with me. Im Elena.
Her name rang a tiny little bell in the back of my head, which wasnt exactly audible
beyond the screams and screeching of tires bursting against my eardrums. I didnt
reach up to take the hand she extended, nor did I dare to break eye contact with her.
Who are you? I croaked.
Elena, she repeated, giving me a small smile meant for dimwits. I knew that name
No, Id only heard it before. But from where? Who had said it? I suddenly felt like Id
been asleep for far too long. Dont worry, Im on your side, she continued in a
hushed tone, sparing a small wink with her words. Now hurry back to Asher, dont
make him worry.
Wait, I gasped, springing forward to grab at her thinner wrist. She tensed up,
throwing a paranoid glance down the alleyway before forcefully jerking her arm out
of my grip. The strength in her movement failed to surprise me, I didnt doubt her
abilities if she associated with the group of demons that plagued my life. But at that
moment I didnt care, there was just one answer I desperately needed from her.
Where are we going?
Not far, just to Pier 32, on the Southside of the docks. Keep your calm, dont freak out,
and go back to Asher, she said sternly, her dark eyes narrowing into an intimidating
glare. I straightened my posture, pulling away from her with the recollection of her big,
big gun. I nodded, pushing my hand into my pockets before taking a few hesitant
steps back.
Alex, Asher snapped, his voice louder this time. I immediately turned around, slinking
back the few steps needed to meet up with my villains. Why do you feel the constant
urge to defy me? he chided in a lower tone once I was in earshot.
What else can I do for fun? I grunted.
He didnt encourage my behavior with any sort of response, instead disregarding me
as he turned his attention to his pets. Vincenzo, drop him off somewhere safe. Alrick
and I will go ahead.
466

I didnt protest. It didnt matter. As they spoke, I slanted my body away to punch in a
text with the location of the meeting and sent it to the number Id memorized. Joseph
Kennel would no doubt receive the information soon. They could show up before
hand, depending on how far we were from the docks, or even in the midst of the
exchange, either way ambushing the cruel criminals that deserved to be locked
behind bars.
Well talk later, Asher informed me as he strolled to the lingering cars. Yeah. Right.
Mr. Charles joined some of his grunts in the first car after exchanging words with my
sandy haired mob boss. I watched the two thugs guarding the alleyway wave the
black device over Asher and Alrick, pat them down for weapons, and confiscate their
phones before the two were allowed into the second car. I still wasnt sure what they
were doing.
The process was repeated for the remaining men that easily filled up the third car;
guns were impounded, their cell phones confiscated, and after a quick wave of the
spatula-thing, they were off on their way. Soon only Vincenzo, Elena and I were left,
with one car awaiting us just beyond the two guards.
What is that? I whispered to Elena as Vincenzo moved up to take his dutiful turn.
Its like a metal detector, but it picks up on anything that transmits. Like bugs and
wires, she explained briefly. Nothing for you to worry about.
My blood froze over. Dread trickled down the back of my neck, turning my palms
sweaty while my heart leapt headfirst into a 20-mile run for the finish line. Wait, I
whispered to my Italian, though much too late. He walked up to the men, giving his
phone to one while the other waved the triangular detector over his body. A chirp of
acceptance resonated, followed by the glow of a green light. He continued on to the
last car. My heart ricocheted to my throat.
Come on, one of the men gestured, looking bored as he signaled me forward. I
dawdled, inching unsurely forward as my frantic eyes searched the alley for a way
out. Could I run? Would I make it? Which way to go? Fuck, I wanted Asher to come
back. Whats the hold up? the man growled, his uninterested expression turning
suspicious when I continued to hesitate. Behind him, I noticed Vincenzo tense up.
Before I could make any hasty decisions, Elenas hand flattened on my back and
gave me a firm push forward. I stumbled with the force, almost tripping over myself as I
found myself unexpectedly within the perimeter of the alien device ready to sign my
death warrant.

467

Maybe it wouldnt pick up the electronics on my belt, I told myself. It was a recording
device, but not a bug or a wire. It didnt transmit anything. Maybe Id be safe. Maybe
they wouldnt notice. Maybe Id get away with it for once.
Phone, the man to my right said. I reached into my pocket, shakily pulling out the
last string of communication tying me back to the police. He took it, shoving the
phone into a bag with the rest. His partner stepped up, extending the detector to
taste the air around me. It waved over my head silently, said nothing at my chest, but
when it reached my waist it exploded in a serenade of beeping.
The red light went on.
It was over before it started. By the time the nameless men thought to reach for their
guns, a loud pop pop silenced them. I didnt get a chance to see their bodies hit the
floor. My eyes shot up to Vincenzo, the bull already charging me with the flare of fury
branded across his face. He grabbed a fistful of Alricks jacket and pounded me back
against a wall, knocking the breath out of my lungs. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?
he screamed into my face. I winced at the volume overwhelming my fraying senses,
unable to coherently answer him. Black dots riddled my vision. WHAT. THE FUCK. DID
YOU DO?!
He pulled forward, taking me off the wall, only to ram me back against it. My head
knocked against the bricks, shredding what stability I managed to gather back into
pieces. Words didnt reach my brain, much less my lips. I didnt know what to say to
him. A rattle at the collar of the jacket shook my shoulders, down to my arms, swinging
them like useless pieces of soggy spaghetti, numbing my fingertips. Another shove
against the harsh surface finally pushed a sound from my lungs, an anguished groan
that I didnt initially hear.
Vincenzo paused, still fuming, and pulled up enough on the fabric to make it
uncomfortable for me to stand. Did you give their location away? he asked in what I
could only guess to be his best attempt at being calm. His voice trembled, but the
volume remained low. I could feel the anger seeping out of him, heating up his skin
enough to darken his eyes. Did you? he whispered.
I nodded once.
SHIT! he exploded, releasing me with a final shove back. I knocked against the wall,
the severity of my actions hitting me alongside the physical pain. My chest suddenly
felt so heavy. To pull myself back out of the slump I steadily sank into, I tried to gather
my anger, to focus on how they all deserved what was coming to them, how they
were the villains. They were at fault, not me. SHIT. Shit. I have to warn Alrick. Shit.. fuck..
What were you thinking?! FUCK! he screamed angrily.

468

I looked up in time to see him retrieve the bag of cell phones from the floor, holding it
from the bottom corner to pour the contents out onto the ground. He picked up his
own, checking the screen with worry splattered across the visible side of his face.
Elena walked into my line of sight then, holding the gun that must have been
responsible for downing the guards. I winced away from her, more than certain that I
would be her next target.
You stupid kid, Vincenzo snapped, belittling me with a single word. I never thought it
would hurt so much to be called a kid, especially with Alricks lovable kiddo
nickname, but the angry Italian made it sound like a curse.
Theres no time, Elena hissed, giving a glance of her own to the white cell phone
drawn from her pocket. We have to get going.
Where are they? he asked, looking up from his phones screen long enough to
survey the womans face.
Pier 32. She paused, turning to look back at me as it dawned on her why I had
pressed so hard to find out the location. And she had given it to me. With an audible
sigh, she pocketed her phone and shook her head in dismay. Lets go. Hurry.
Get in the car, Vincenzo said abruptly, his gaze back on me.
What? I breathed.
Get in the car, he said again, pocketing his phone before retrieving two more from
the mess on the ground. He then opened the passenger side door, stepping aside to
gesture with his only capable hand. I gawked at the gimp, having expected a
beating, but not such a demented form of torture. GET IN THE CAR!
N-no. I cant.. Im.. Im afraid of car
Get in the fucking car! This time he did more than order, he marched over to grab
my wrist and jerk me to the open door. I stuttered to a stop at the opening, slamming
my other hand out to stop my progress and wedging my shoulder blade against the
roof. No way. I didnt want to get in. There was no way. Goomba, dont test me, he
growled.
I ca-cant. I cant. Please Vincenzo, I ca
My pleading was abruptly interrupted by the slam of a door, drawing everyones
attention to the narrow alleyway. The men I had seen earlier, sitting around the table
inside the restaurant, were now charging; guns cocked, pissed the fuck off, and
heading straight toward us. They must have heard the gunshots. Vincenzo cursed,
469

giving another tug of my wrist as he tried to drive me backward into the passenger
sides seat.
I CANT! I screamed.
What are you afraid of? Elena snapped, running forward to join our gathering by the
car door. Dying? Because I can promise you now a bullet will kill you faster than a
car. Get in!
N-no. I cant. You dont understand. I cant. I cant, I rambled, trembling against the
arm that continued to pin me against the vehicle. I couldnt. I couldnt.
The cracking of bullets began, raining down on us as the two experienced killers both
flinched, ducking from any stray pieces of metal that could have reached us. Having
had quite enough of my cowardice, Elena swung a fist into my gut, exploding a
brilliant array of pain that spiked out to the edges of my stitches. I doubled over, giving
her a chance to grab my skull and shove me backward into the car. Go, I heard her
hiss, though saw nothing but hot, searing white pain.
Vincenzo was suddenly in the drivers side, turning the keys in the ignition by the time
Elena slammed the door shut on me. She quickly hopped into the back seat, filling the
last car as planned. The shooting outside continued without our presence, echoing
loudly against the outskirts of the metal prison as the car screeched to life. We sped
away before I had a chance to blink away the moisture in my eyes.
What were you thinking, you stupid boy? my Italian growled.
Asher belongs behind bars, I groaned, cradling the horrid ache in my stomach. Fuck.
Fuck.
What gives you the right to say that? Elena scoffed, her tone at the edge of
offended.
After everything hes done, after everything that happened? He made me a target
and didnt even think twice about sacrificing me for his own selfish needs! He used me!
Hes nothing but a
Jesus Christ. I knew after killing Michael you might develop some mental problems but
I didnt think you would go utterly insane, Vincenzo grumbled, followed by the sound
of the cars groan as we turned a corner fast enough to send my stomach to my
throat. I reached out to grab at the door, at the dashboard, trying to keep myself
together physically so my anger could continue to pour out of me. The pain kept me
distracted enough to put a dam on the fear and nausea the moving vehicle pooled
inside of me.
470

I didnt kill Michael, I declared.

What? He turned to look at me, breaking eye contact with the road and sending my
innards on another roller coaster.
I didnt kill Michael! I repeated with logical outrage. Roger did. Roger killed Michael
and stabbed me, then left me there to die. Oh, but first he told me about Ashers dirty
little plan. I paused to sneer up at him. The lone chestnut eye darted between the
road and me, futilely trying to keep a reasonable balance as confusion wrinkled his
brow.
Ashers plan? he echoed.
Yes. Dont bother denying it. I know everything. I know about how he started the story
about Alex Sanchez, how he made me a scapegoat, how hes a murderer and a thief
and a liar. He turned me into some kind of target and he
Shut up, Vincenzo cut me off a second time.
Youre seriously going to deny this? I exhaled sharply, shaking my head in disbelief.
There was no way, no way I was wrong. Asher was the villain. He was the bad guy. He
killed innocents, took advantage, manipulated and fucked with everyone around him.
He was heartless. He was the bad guy. Youre really going to tell me that he isnt
some heartless fuck that
It was me.
I sat up rigidly against the backrest, my lips parting with unspoken words as a million
questions deluged the front sphere of my brain. What? What? What? I managed to
breathe.
It was me. The Alex Sanchez thing it was my idea, he explained, no longer willing
to spare me a glance. He stared forward, baring only the unharmed profile of his face.
The car kicked up a notch in speed, swaying me back against the seat as my hands
trembled off of the dashboard, back into the safety of my lap.
Why? I shuddered.
Ashers done nothing but try to protect you from the very beginning, Elenas voice
echoed forward from the back of the car. After you called the ambulance for him
that night, he was worried the people responsible would think you were involved with
him. He didnt want a civilian hurt on his behalf. He just wanted to keep an eye on you

471

at first, he kept you near to make sure you were safe, but that day on the docks she
trailed off.
Vincenzo finally turned to look at me, to take in the betrayal and horror on my face. I
waited, speechless, once again unable to understand why the people I trusted found
it so easy to stab me in the back.
Look, I didnt exactly like you back then. You were just a fucking nuisance. But I also
didnt think anything would happen to you when I suggested you come with us. The
real Alex Sanchez he didnt show up that day. We didnt know that he died two
days before in some fucking accident, we just thought he was late. But we needed a
fourth person. It was my idea. I volunteered you, but I never thought If you had just
stayed in the stupid boat Ugh. No, it would have probably still gone to hell, but
maybe you wouldnt have been involved.
I I dont understand, I whispered.
No one thought you would be in any danger. You were just supposed to be a
faceless fourth, a backup body in the boat. Some sort of guarantee that wed survive
the day. But after you came charging out like that Ah.. His voice faded, melting
into the screech of the tires as the car whipped around another corner, swaying my
body sideways against the door. I couldnt find the will to react.
Then you? I prompted him to continue, my voice a faint recollection of what it
used to be.
We didnt go there to kill anyone. It was a simple transaction, but since it was their
territory we had the explosives and Sanchez as backup. We didnt want to end up
using either one, but of course that idiot overreacted when he thought you were in
danger. And Asher is a lot of things, but hes nowhere near shallow. Your little
makeover wasnt for visual preference purposes; he tried to alter your appearance so
no one would be able to recognize you from that day. He thought youd be safe after
he cleaned you up, that no one would identify you, that is the only reason you were
allowed to go back to your stupid diner. But the cops were already sniffing around
you, he paused again, throwing me an uneasy glare. He ran off to find you the
moment your foster mom called him. She said two strange men came in asking about
you, and of course she thought you were in some sort of trouble.
So to save me from the cops he took me to a fucking cowboy shoot-out? I hissed.
Youre not fucking listening, are you? Two strange men. Thats all your foster mom
said. She didnt know they were cops and neither did we. Alrick and I were sure Carter
had found you, and before we could make heads or tails of it he was off to be a

472

crusader. But youre right, he shouldnt have brought you back with him, he should
have dropped you off elsewhere. That was his fault, I wont take responsibility for that.
And Michael? I asked next.
Me again, he groaned lightly. I just wanted to piss the fucker off. I didnt know hed
completely snap. He came to ask about you while I was in the hospital. Alrick still kicks
himself for giving your location away, but again, none of us thought Michael would go
so far.
What did you say to him? Wh-why was he so mad at me?
We knew Michael was working with Carter behind our back, and the only reason
Asher still kept him around was because they practically grew up together. Michael
wanted to get Asher to invest in a big plan of hiswe didnt know his big plan was
human trafficking until later. I knew it really irritated him that Asher wouldnt even listen
to his proposal, so to tick him off I told him that Asher was going to invest in you. I told
him you were the new favorite recruit, which he bought rather easily after he saw
Asher take you home. The psycho just assumed things from there.
Vincenzo passed a stop sign, sped through a red light, rushing toward his destination
with nothing but motivation to reach his friends, to rescue them from the hell mouth Id
opened up. My hands moved up to disappear into my hair, where I curled my digits
down in fistfuls of ink, tugging on the roots with the tremors of energy that drained out
of me. The clog in my head slowly dissolved, letting Vincenzos words fill in the blanks in
the timeline of my misery.
To protect your identity, we kept you under the alias of Alex Sanchez, Elena spoke
up this time. Asher didnt want anyone tracking you back to the diner, he didnt want
your foster parents hurt or used against you. You cant imagine the resources he used
the three months you were working at that crappy Chinese restaurant just to keep you
hidden. He only pulled you out because we noticed more of Carters men populating
the area. I didnt know Roger was involved he must have overheard Daniel talking
about taking you to a safe house. That explains all the teams suddenly sent out to
scout out the areas Fuck, I should have thought of that before, she sighed.
Fucking Roger, Vincenzo growled, removing his hand momentarily from the wheel
only to punch at the surface. The blare of the car horn went off, warning the vehicle in
front that if they didnt move they would physically pay the price.
Just be glad I got to him first, Elena slipped in, as if she was reminding Vincenzo of an
unpaid debt.

473

Who are you? I had to ask. My body rotated the slightest bit, allowing my eyes to
settle on her facebut I never quite made it that high, my attention easily stopped on
the gun she was reloading in her lap.
Im the inside man, she chirped happily, before another swerve of the car reminded
her of the increasingly bad situation. Was. I worked under Carter for three years, and
my covers blown in three seconds. No way I can go back if the cops raid the place.
Damn, she sighed, exhaling with a sway of her body backward against the seat.
Who the fuck is Carter? I released my frustration in a heavy sigh, forcing my eyes to
her irritated expression with the hope that the information would continue.
Carter? Carter is the man determined to destroy everything involving Asher. If he can
kill you just to make Asher flinch, hell do it, Elena resumed.
And he thought killing me would make Asher flinch? Why me?
Its a message, idiot, Vincenzo barked. Help Asher Pickett, you die. Get it? Even a
homeless kid can be made an example out of; but once you became Alex Sanchez, it
was more like a challenge. And Id imagine after Michael told him what I said Eh
He trailed off, sparing another uneasy glance in my direction before he stomped
down harder on the gas pedal. I was careless.
I pressed my eyes shut as an overwhelming sense of heaviness settled onto my
shoulders, weighing my body forward, darkening the world around me. If you were all
just trying to protect me, if all of this is a big, horrible mistake, why why did Alrick tell
me to run? Why did he keep telling me to run?
Vincenzo didnt answer me. His head tilted away, his curls covering the eye I could see
as his lips tightened into a thin line. I reached over across the emergency break,
grabbing onto his arm to bodily call for his attention. A flinch tightened his features,
echoing a wave of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. He was telling me to run from
Asher, wasnt he? Not from this Carter guy not Michael. It was Asher, he was telling
me to run away from Asher. Why? Why?
He jerked his arm away, giving it a short shake before returning his grip on the steering
wheel. That was one question he didnt want to touch; so I reluctantly turned to the
woman in the back, my eyes searching her face for an ounce of hope. She avoided
my gaze, turning her head to watch the scenery speed by outside while my heart sank
in my chest.
Was there some truth to what Roger said?
So he is dangerous, I assumed. Hes a bad guy.
474

Vincenzo released a curt, dry laugh, his anxiety practically tangible in the air around
him. There are bad people in the world, Goomba, and there are worse people.
Everyones a predator. Sometimes it takes one predator to make another one back
down.
But then, why? I whispered meekly, my eyes darting back to Elenas face again.
We saw how Asher was getting attached to you, she explained. Alrick felt
responsible for a lot of things that happened because he thought he didnt do
enough to stop it, and he didnt want you sucked in any deeper. Being involved with
Asher it wont do you any good. We thought the quickest way to distance you from
him would be to scare you off.
Leaving me a post it was your best plan? I mumbled.
Fuck, she sighed, her patience weaning. Its not like he could write you a letter or sit
down and have a long moral chat with you. There was no time, and no way for him to
get the message through without Asher finding out. The whole point was for you to
leave on your own accord without Asher knowing. Considering how paranoid Asher
was around that time, I think even the post-its were a big risk. Not like they did any
good.
Why not just tell me? I shivered. Why didnt you just tell me?
What set the detector off, Matthew? she asked gravely. My hand instinctively
clamped down on the belt, pressing the fabric of my jacket against the sheer metal
until I remembered that the recorder was still on. I never turned it off. I officially had
Vincenzo and Elena on record explaining most of Ashers madness. Fuck, I was such a
jerk. It wasnt just for your safety, it was for ours too.
Thats not fair, I tried to reason. I wouldnt have done it if I knew. I wouldnt have
gone to the cops if you guys had told me. I mean, why tell me now if you couldnt
before? You could have told me before!
Because it doesnt matter anymore, Vincenzo declared, his volume much lower
than before, his anger seemingly diminished.
The car came to a harsh stop, whipping me forward into the dashboard. Vincenzo
hopped out of the car before I could question him, leaving me with a sense of unease
that chilled the air. I was quick to follow, scrambling out of the deathtrap to approach
him at the back of the car where he hastily rummaged through the trunk. What do
you mean? I asked. What doesnt matter anymore?

475

He jerked free one of the black bags, hoisting it up and straight into my arms. Put it
on, he instructed, signaling to a band that had been clipped backward to create
shoulder straps. I hesitated long enough for him to shrug his injured shoulder out of the
sling and physically aid my arms through the hoops. The wince of discomfort on his
face brought me back to reality, helping me become more than a staring buffoon as I
tried to catch up to his square on the chessboard.
Why doesnt it matter anymore? I urged for an answer.
Vincenzo paused, bringing his head up to sear the glare of his lone eye straight into
my brain. Because when Asher finds out what you did, hell kill you himself.
I swayed backward against the car, his reminder of my actions sending a dizzy
butterfly effect from my head to my hands. The force of his statement knocked the air
out of my chest faster than being shoved into a wall. My throat felt irritably dry when I
tried to swallow, turning the action of formulating words into impossibility.
Where was the rewind button?
While time seemed to be speeding up around me, minutes ticking away faster than
seconds, Vincenzo blurred away into abstraction. I could barely hear him speak. Take
this. Something pressed into the palm of my hand, my fingers forced to close around
it, and I felt my numbness expand to my fingertips. Go to the address on the back.
Tell him I sent you. Give him half of whats in the bag, but only after he gives you the
documents. Once you have everything, get as far away from here as you can. Do you
understand, Goomba? Far, far away.
I blinked my focus up to my cripples face, forcing my lips to part as the tightness in my
throat grew to the point of agony. His good hand extended then, his palm landing
gently on my head as he leaned forward, ruffling my hair. Ah, what to do? he
sighed. His fingers moved down in a light stroke down to my shoulder, rounding over
my spine, where to my surprise he tugged me forward into a hug. You stupid brat. I
never thought youd grow on me, he chuckled.
Vincenzo, Elena called tentatively, already standing a good ten steps away from us.
Take good care of yourself, he whispered against my scalp.
Before I could swallow the lump clogging my airway, Vincenzo bolted from my side.
He ran north away from the car, Elena right on his heels, easily disappearing into a
mess of storage containers that blocked view of the water.
My hand instinctively moved up to close over my chest, flattening my palm against
the frantic beat of my heart. Thoughts jumbled, sending me back to events in the past.
476

Everything Asher had done suddenly became a pathetic excuse to keep me around
him; the I own yous and you owe mes, his job offerings, his requests of shared lodging,
all feeble reasons to remain beneath the protection of his wing without stupid me
being ever the wiser. I never considered why the cops backed off so easily, I never
thought about why I didnt appear in the papers after so many reporters outside the
French Restaurant, I never gave him credit.
Was it now too late?
I finally looked down at the object in my hand, discovering it to be a plain business
card with a name printed on the front and an address written with pen on the back.
No, I wasnt going to run this time. I didnt want to be a coward again. I had to own up
to my mistakes. I had to help.
I had to warn them.

477

The faster I ran, the slower I felt.

It got to the point that no matter how much I pushed myself, my muscles seemed to
be working backwards against me. The bag felt heavy, my feet heavier, and sure
enough the heaviness spread throughout my limbs until my bones felt like obstacles
instead of enablers. Slowing down seemed my best option, but the desperate need to
right my wrong drove me forward. I needed to warn Asher, to help him run away.
The problem remained in the fact that I had no idea where I was, or how to get to my
destination. Although the location given to me might have been enough for the
police to find their way, I only found myself lost in the maze of storage containers lining
the area.
Vincenzo! I yelled out into the emptiness. Calling for him probably wasnt a good
idea, considering my voice could draw unwanted attention, but I was steadily running
out of ideas. I didnt know what else to do. Every turn I took brought me face-to-face
to another container, another dead end, another wall destined to box me in. The
maze only opened up for the echo of my voice, seeping like solder into the cracks.
Vincenzo! Vincenzo!
I skidded to a diffident stop when the water came into view, a horrific sight of bright
blue that seemed endless from my perspective. The wind that swayed the surface of
the water set my nerves aflame, sending a sense of revulsion through my gullet and
down to my gut. My arms moved up to protectively wrap around my core, hugging
my chest tight as the queasiness hit me. I could already see the car hitting the water. I
could already hear the blare of the sirens.
But the second part wasnt just my imagination; that sound blasted out through my
memories and straight into reality. The echo of the screeching alarm signaling
authorities peeked from a distance, inching closer by the second, growing louder and
louder.
This way! someone yelled.

478

I whipped my head up, following the sound of the voice to an opening between two
blue metal boxes to my right. The quick pitter-patter of footsteps whizzed by, a quick
thunk thunk thunk that matched the beating of my heart. I unwound myself to bolt
after the sound, leaving one trauma behind to chase after the next. Three men I
recognized from Mr. Charles restaurant raced across a clearing and hopped onto the
pier, quickly boarding a boat tied to a damaged post.
Was Asher there? Was he safe?
Muffin! his voice came like a warm breeze, washing over me, quenching the fire in
my skin. Had he heard my thoughts? Did he know I needed to find him? I turned to see
Asher skid to a stop, his grey eyes shamelessly displaying worry the moment he
confirmed my identity. What are you doing here?
Betraying you.
The sound of the sirens grew louder, drawing closer, reminding us of the grains of time
running out of the hourglass. From behind a mound of containers, Alrick came dashing
out, initially blazing right past us. He too came to an unsure stop when he saw me, but
he did not hold the same concern Ashers eyes reflected. From the conflicted
expression on his face, I had a feeling Vincenzo already informed him of what Id
done. Asher, lets go! he yelled to his friend. We have to go!
Come on Muffin, Asher called calmly, extending his hand out toward me. The
police are on their way. We need to go.
Tell him. Tell him to run, my conscience ordered, while the sirens assured it was already
too late. I slowly shook my head, my eyes darting from his hand to his face. Why did it
feel like my lungs were collapsing? Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe? Asher
might have been a bad guy, but he was my bad guy. He had tried so hard to keep
me safe. And what had I done in return? Id damned us all to hell. Im, I gasped,
my throat tightening up.
Im sorry. Im sorry. Im so sorry.
We can discuss this later. Hurry now, we need to leave, he urged, running toward
me. I wanted to tell him. I wanted him to know, but no matter how hard I tried my
tongue refused to be cooperative. Asher reached out to grab at my wrist, ready to
rescue me again, to whisk me to safety, but I instinctively pulled away from him.
Im s, I choked again. Im sorry. Im so sorry. Please forgive me. Please, Asher.
Please forgive me. Im so sorry.
Muffin? he questioned, his forehead wrinkling with bewilderment.

479

ASHER! Alrick shouted in warning, taking a hesitant step towards us. LEAVE HIM!
COME ON!
The sirens continued to boom, creeping up on us, ticking down the seconds left before
the sky crumbled and caved in on me. I wished I could tell him to run. I wished he
would listen to Alrick and run. But my hero didnt heed his friends warning, didnt turn
away from me; he only outstretched his hand out once again to reach for mine.
Muffin, we need to go before
Tell him. Tell him. Tell him to run! my brain screamed.
Theyre not here for me, I finally exhaled.
His expression fell, the crease in his brow dissolving as the painful mask of stoicism I
never wanted to see again settled into place. He shut himself off to me, hiding both his
worry and anxiety while Alricks words combined with mine turned on the light bulb in
his head. As the sirens came to a deafening level of volume, understanding finally
touched his eyes. You? he sighed.
I shamefully bowed my head, too mortified to meet his gaze. Im so sor
His hand lashed out in an instant, grabbing onto my chin and jerking it up, forcing my
eyes to his face. His harsh grip reminded me of when we first met, of the carelessness
when he first threw me against a wall, the cold forefront of his eyes when he found me
in the alleyway. He held no gentleness, no compassion, and as his fingers dug painfully
into my bone structure I felt the thin strings binding the two of us finally clip away.
In that moment, I lost him.
Alrick took a few uneasy steps towards us, falling into my line of sight when I winced
past the pain in my face to glance over Ashers arm. The red and blue lights
highlighted the containers, flashing morose code onto every surface caught in their
way. Suited officers ran out through several cracks and openings, rushing forward to
control the scene with their weapons intact. Several shouted warnings, but their words
never completely reached us.
You did this? Asher whispered. I blinked up to the anger in the grey eyes hovering
over me, a rage Id only rarely seen before on the face Id grown addicted to, and I
felt my heart pathetically ache.
BACK AWAY FROM THE KID! a voice yelled. I followed the trajectory of the words to
Alricks previous spot, only to find him already floored by two officers with a third
slapping cuffs onto the Germans thick wrists. The man that had spoken repeated his

480

words, approaching us with his gun pointed straight at my angry mob-bosss back.
BACK OFF, IM WARNING YOU PICKETT. PUT YOUR HANDS UP AND BACK AWAY.
The grip on my face tightened further, commanding my attention onto the source of
the pain. Pressure from his fingers made it hard to keep my mouth closed, but at that
point grinding my teeth was the least I could do to stabilize my emotions. I reached up
then, pressing both hands against Ashers wrist in a desperate squeeze for support. His
fingers trembled with his unstable temperament, sending light quakes down my skin.
Im sor
His hand jerked up, causing me to bite down on my own tongue and putting a sharp
end to my useless apology. My fingers fell in a diagonal line from his wrist to his chest,
gripping at his coat as I attempted another go at words. But he beat me to it. Leaning
down further, his lips parted before my eyes, his gaze tightened, and although beyond
the sirens his voice was barely audible it was the loudest thing I heard.
For your sake, I hope I never find you.
His touch slipped away like it was never there, allowing blood back into my face as he
extended his hands over his head. He took a few deliberate steps away from me,
crisscrossed both palms against his scalp and turned toward the sirens. I wanted to call
out to him, to beg him to forgive me, but I didnt have the nerve to utter his name
anymore. The shock of his words resonated down through my ears, straight through my
heart, and dissolved into my bloodstream.
The pain hit me all at once. The burning in my panting lungs zigzagged down to my
stomach, forcing me to double over as my knees buckled. I crashed against the side
of a container with only a tilt of my shoulder to soften the blow. My arm snaked out
around the oversized jacket on my body, pressing it against the moisture that had
gathered on my abdomen. My whole body felt sticky and gross, but it was my chest
that radiated enough heat to cripple me.
Its only the bad ones that leave a scar, he had told me. What kind of scar would this
incident leave behind? What kind of scar would I become?
I rocked my weight forward with a groan, hugging my stomach tighter as I pressed my
forehead against my knees. A hand firmly grabbed hold of my shoulder and shook
me, attempting futilely to tie me down to reality. It was no use. I was too empty of
determination to remain functioning. My head reeled with my heart, draining the last
inches of adrenaline out of me.
WE NEED AN EMT OVER HERE! someone yelled.

481

I woke up in the hospital feeling irritably uncomfortable. The thin gown on my body
provided no sense of security or relief, the stench of the room itched the back of my
throat, and the IV shoved into my arm ached enough for me to want the needle
removed. I grew faintly conscious of an outside presence nearby, fluttering from one
side of my bed to the other, along with a soft murmuring that flooded unwanted
memories to the screen of black covering my eyeballs.
My body tensed up, sudden recollection of the day reawakening my muscles enough
to force my eyes open. Fuck. The speed of my upper torso whipping up managed to
frighten what I realized to be two nurses checking on me, both of which shrieked and
jumped back with my unexpected consciousness.
I wasnt sure whom I anticipated seeing by my bedside, but it definitely wasnt them. A
more familiar face would have perhaps settled the queasiness in my chest; Id have
even been happy for a delusional flicker of his face, but no matter how much I blinked
I only saw the two female faces. I stared at them for a moment, speechless, confused,
before extending my hand down to my sore stomach to check for solidity. I halfexpected to find a black void of blood. Had my stitches been mended? My skin felt
like it was grinded in an inferno.
The touch to my lower abdomen reminded me vaguely of an important object I no
longer had in my possession, and as an overwhelming sense of sickness threatened to
confine me to the bathroom I pushed my voice free of its box. Where are my
clothes?
Sir, you should be resting, one of the nurses finally managed to speak. She moved
forward, gently pushing on my shoulders to coax me back into lying down.
I need my clothes, I told her, shrugging the hands off of me.
Sir, your belongings are safe. Please just try to get some res
I need my clothes, I repeated stubbornly. Their frowns obligated me to explain
further, putting reason to my madness. Theres something in my pocket, I just want to
check that its still with me. Then Ill rest. Where are my clothes?
In the closet, one of them gestured, waving her hand toward the back corner of the
room. I followed her fingers to confirm the location, finding a small door wedged just
beside another patients bed. No one has touched your belongings, Im sure the
object is still in your pocket. You should rest now. You dont want to rip your stitches
again.
I nodded at her words, feeling a bit calmer to know my stuff was nearby. With their
eyes following me I settled back into the bed, tucking myself in and reclining against

482

the shabby pillows. They watched me a bit longer, perhaps to make sure I wouldnt
bolt for the door, then went on their merry way. The countdown for my escape
instantly began; I risked lingering a few minutes before tugging the IV out of my arm,
throwing the thin hospital sheet off and hopping from the bed. Other patients in the
room watched me curiously, none of them able to understand why I desperately
needed to get the hell out.
The closet held my belt along with the rest of my clothes, and to my utter relief I found
the diner-keychain still hidden safely inside a pocket. I jerked my pants on, slipped my
belt into the designated hoops, and shoved my arms into the extra large jacket Id
borrowed from Alrick. The black backpack Vincenzo had loaned me topped the
cake, a heavy burden I was ready to carry for all intents and purposes.
You should tuck the hospital gown into your pants, a younger patient observed. Or
else someone might suspect you for a runaway.
Ah, thanks, I whispered. Not like my thoughts developed that far down a certain
timeline, but that was a good point. I took a moment to shove the white and blue
gown into the waistband of my pants, covering it up by zipping the brown jacket up
before heading off to sneak into the hallway.
Good luck! he yelled after me.
No matter what, I had to get back to Asher. Was he safe? Was he okay? How much
trouble was he in? Could I do anything to help?
I tried to be a bit more careful with my movement this time, now painfully aware of
how easily my stomach could be damaged, and calculated my speed after a few
trial-and-errors to a brisk walk that didnt cause too much discomfort. I wanted to
leave the premises as quickly as possiblethough I barely made it to the elevator
when tension on my backpack stopped me. My shoes skidded against the clean floor,
squeaking loudly as I stumbled back a few steps. Hey! I yelled, twirling around to
unwind myself from whatever had halted my escape.
Hello, he said, his voice completely foreign to my ears. I frowned at the plain face
that stood before me: an ordinary man in an ordinary suit. He beamed at me with
relief, his eyes tired but his expression oddly optimistic. His hand gently patted my
shoulder, as if he were wiping dirt off the surface, and he leaned in close enough for
his whisper to be considered a secret. Matthew Wildemore, right?
Matthew Charles Wildemore, dont play with your food!
Matthew Wildemore, please come to the front of the line.

483

Wildemore? Dont you live up on Cherry Hill?

Mr. Wildemore must be so proud of you. Did you show him your report card?
I winced away from the name and the voices in my head that pushed me closer to
the cliff of schizophrenia. The cast of my thumb jabbed into the upward arrow of the
elevators button in hopes of nullifying the memories with the shrewd ding that came
with the doors opening; but the metal box lagged behind, deserting me. Despairing
for an escape, I curled my hand into a fist and hammered at the button. Why wasnt it
coming?
No? the stranger mumbled to himself. They told me a kid with black hair and green
eyes lets see he trailed off. I glanced back at him in time to watch the man
rummage through his pockets. He pulled out a photograph seconds later, holding it up
beside my face to compare my facial features to what I imagined to be a picture of
me. Was it a family photo? I felt sick.
Who are you? I grunted.
Agent Millikan, nice to meet you, he introduced himself, tucking the photograph
away after assuring himself he had the correct target. Good to see youre feeling
better. Ill be your escort back to the bureau.
Oh, I replied numbly. The cops. Right.
The elevator doors slid open in a soft chime, not at all the sound I was expecting, and
we both turned to peer into the empty box lined with fresh posters warning of flu
season. The three walls awaiting me suddenly seemed too small for the two of us. My
eyes wandered to the door nearby, the one labeled Emergency Stairs, but before I
could consider disappearing through it Agent Millikan reached up to pat my shoulder
again. Coming? he asked.
Y-yeah. Why wouldnt I be? This is how it was all supposed to happen, wasnt it? This
was the part where the cops rescued me, where I was safe, and protected right? I
shuffled into the elevator, retreating to a corner before turning towards the doors. He
hit the bottom button, lighting up the black 1 in the midst of the numbers. I glanced up
wearily towards the red numbers overhead, watching them decrease as I tried to
ignore the sense of claustrophobia that seemed to make the walls breathe.
Do you have the recording? he asked offhandedly.
My hand instinctively moved down to my belt, pressing lightly against it as my gaze
wandered to the agents face. Yeah, I confirmed.

484

Good. Im glad I caught you in time, he sighed. It would have been inconvenient if
you left the hospital without anyone knowing your whereabouts.
Why is that? I questioned.
Youre a very important witness, of course, Millikan spoke casually, carelessly, like I
was the last E in a game of scrabble needed to finish spelling out another word. If you
were to disappear, our case would go with you.
The ding in my brain simulated the one of the elevator doors, with answers to all my
problems becoming abruptly obvious. I stared blankly at the agent while the ice
blocks of tension in my muscles quite unexpectedly melted away into the ozone layer
of my skin. The wash of relief was so sudden that the dizziness teetered me off balance
on my way out of the elevator.
Agent Millikan must have mistaken my reactions as worry, because when he reached
out to help me right myself he offered a sympathetic look. Thats why were here to
keep you safe, of course, he added hastily, frowning at me. Dont worry, no one
except me and my partner knows youre here. And Pickett is under lock and key, he
cant get to you now. Once we get you back to the bureau, youll be perfectly safe.
Oh, I whispered, Okay.
He moved away from me, heading towards the exit with his cell phone in hand. I only
heard a faint Yeah, I found him, before he moved out of my immediate radius. My
hand dipped into my pocket, initially searching for the keychain but my fingers glided
against a piece of paper Id forgotten was still in my possession. I pulled out the
business card, scanning the name on the front before turning to read the address on
the back.
This way, Millikan called, snapping my attention up to him. I nodded, following the
sound of his voice away from the elevator. He led me outside where the cold wind
greeted me, along with a light mist that burst tiny bubbles of water against my cheeks.
It felt nice. Everything suddenly felt so fresh and new. My partner will be down in a
minute. Will you be okay here alone? I nodded. Ill pull the car around, he said with
a faded smile.
I watched him go, his shadow easily vanishing behind a parked ambulance that only
recently shut off its lights. After another glance at the card tucked into my palm, I
shoved my hands into my pockets and walked off in the opposite direction.
I was good at disappearing.

485

Before Asher I was just a shell, wandering through life with no path and no motivation. I
never cared about anything, never thought about a future, never saw my life as
anything more than a spec of existence in an ant farm. But after I met him, I let myself
feel again; pain, agony, anger, hate, hope, compassion, warmth, affection. He made
me feel again. He made me care.
Which is why I couldnt bring myself to connect the last power circuit on the board of
his electric chair. No, I didnt forgive my personal hell that he was greatly responsible
for but I also accepted that hed never overlook my betrayal. Witnessing the
unabashed devotion Alrick and Vincenzo displayed for their boss day after day, I knew
better than anyone that loyalty was a big part of their world. The least I could do was
wash my hands clean of it all before walking away.
So I didnt go to the bureau, I didnt turn in the recording still in my belt or my personal
testimony. I walked two hours across the city to a shady little corner of poverty, tucked
away in thin streets striped in clotheslines and drying laundry. The address on the back
of the card proved difficult to find when I had no real direction, but after asking a few
bystanders I was eventually pointed down the general course. My destination just
wasnt something I expected.
The double doors of the video store made no sound when I pushed them open, but
the man behind the counter glanced up the moment I stepped inside. He forced on a
practiced smile, greeting me with a nod, before resuming his previous activities on a
small laptop resting on his legs. I hesitated at the door, holding no confidence whatso-ever about the next course of action. How did one go about this?
With the man ignoring me I scrounged up enough courage to approach the checkout
counter. What was I supposed to ask? I had no clue. So skipping the need for vocal
justification, I pressed the card onto the countertop and slid it toward him. His gaze
moved briefly up to glance at my fingers, showing no real interest, then fell back to the
computer screen. Before I had a chance to feel disappointed his head jerked back
up, both eyes widening at the information his brain took a few seconds to process.
Where did you get this? he asked suddenly, snatching the card out from beneath
my touch.
Vincenzo sent me, I croaked, my voice a bare necessity. I held no depth or volume.
Vincenzo who? he pressed on suspiciously.
Giordano my voice flickered. Vincenzo Giordano. Alrick Schaferun. Asher Pickett. I
knew all their names by heart. Their faces were etched into the fabric of my existence.
Their voices would never dissipate from my eardrums.

486

Wait here, the man grunted. He shoved his computer off his lap, abandoning it on
the counter while he disappeared behind a curtain of beads blocking off a
backroom. He took the business card with him.
My lungs emptied a pint of air, gushing through my dry lips as my eyelids fell with the
gravity of my exhaustion. I reached up to rub a palm against my face, gliding my
fingers from forehead to chin. I felt so tired. But that feeling had little to do with my
physical conditionit was all the thoughts in my head that drained my energy.
When I next opened my eyes I found three faces watching me: a young blonde girl,
the man from before, and an elderly man that leaned in far too close for comfort. I
jerked away from them, my clumsy and hurried actions knocking over a shelf of cavityinducing candy in the process.
Youre really one of Vincenzos friends? the girl asked, suddenly grinning from ear to
ear.
Uh kind of.. I replied unsurely. While the three strangers moved out from behind the
counter, I bent down to pick up the candy bars strewn across the floor. My whole
body felt like a walking accident zone. It seemed my brain wasnt far from the same illfated conclusion.
And you need to disappear? the old man questioned.
I rocked my weight backward, moving from a crouching position to plopping straight
onto my butt. That was the perfect word, disappearbut why did it feel so painful to
hear? Fuck. Yes.
I dont suppose he sent you here empty-handed?
My eyes impulsively moved to my open palms. I was so out of it. I didnt want to think
that far back. I didnt want to remember Ashers words, the image of cops arresting
Alrick, or the look in Vincenzos eyes when he caught me red-handed. I didnt want to
relive those moments. No, I choked, using my voice to stop my thought process.
Vincenzo had given me the bag. Whatever was inside was meant for these people, so
technically I hadnt been sent empty-handed.
Great. Veronica, get this boy a change of clothes and some food. He looks like hes
about to pass out, the old man grumbled. Lucas, you help me in the back. Lets try
to finish this as quickly as possible.
Yes Grandpa, Lucas responded.

487

It didnt bother me that the strangers didnt set out a welcome mat for me, somehow
being treated like a chore felt relieving. Having had so many people stretch
themselves to extremes just to protect me in the past put too much of a burden on my
shoulders; I felt like I owed them and I didnt know how to pay it all back.
Are you really Vincenzos friend? the girl asked, approaching me once her male
counterparts disappeared into the back room. I didnt answer herI didnt know what
the answer was. We havent seen him in so long. Hows he doing?
I closed my eyes with a soft sigh, tilting my head down as the ache of my muscles
reverted backward into my veins. How long is this going to take?
She frowned, rocking back on her heels as she crouched down to my level.
Grandpas really good at what he does so not too long. Ah.. are you okay?
No. I was so far from okay. Just tired. My voice came out in a sob, a coughed groan
of grief that contracted the muscles in my abdomen. I was slowly hollowing out,
shedding my innards to turn back into a ghost. It wasnt hard, just painful.
Ill uh.. Ill go get you some of Lucas clothes, she replied hesitantly. Do you need
anything else?
I provided a tentative lick to my lower lip, the anxiety already enough to kick start all
my nervous habits. My head felt like it was about to explode. A screwdriver, I
whispered.
Veronica arched both eyebrows, her face springing into a fit of surprise as she opened
her mouth in question. Our eyes met, and my expression must have bared most of my
guilt because seconds later she spared a quick shake of her head that assured she
didnt want to know. Her lips pressed back together into a small pout. Ill be right
back.
Take your time, I told her. I was in no hurry. I had nowhere to go.
What followed moved along in a perfectly abstract blur. In the next few hours the little
blonde accommodated me with fresh clothing, a bathroom to wash up in and insisted
I bleach my hair. She supplied me with thick-rimmed glasses holding only glass along
with a temporary clip that cropped my hair shorter. I didnt understand her reasoning
until she propped me up against a wall to snap a few pictures with a pink digital
camera.
What do you think about Simon Quinn?
For what? I muttered.

488

For your new name. Grandpa is finishing up your passport now.

I blinked up at her in surprise, catching an eyeful of flash that instantly materialized
black holes into my field of vision. My new name? Id never considered the possibility.
Only recently did I let Matthew back into my life, to let go of it again felt like
blasphemy. No, I didnt want to lose that name again. For once I wanted to hold onto
what my mom gave me.
Matthew, I responded quietly. I want my name to be Matthew.
Matthew Quinn? That sounds.. hmm.. doesnt have the same kind of ring to it How
about Lockwood? Matthew Lockwood?
I reached up to pull the glasses off the bridge of my nose, replacing the pressure with
my index finger and thumb. My headache was getting worse. It doesnt matter. As
long as my first name is Matthew.
Alright Veronica agreed uneasily.
When she was done with me I took a screwdriver to my belt, opening up the back
metal casing to expose the device inside. Using the blunt end of the tool I smashed
the evidence into little tiny pieces, hammering away at my sin until Veronica
completely left my side in fear of reasonable insanity. It was rather anticlimactic;
everything Id been stressing over broke so easily beneath the force of the screwdriver.
It was all gone in a matter of seconds.
Even so, I felt pounds lighter once it was all destroyed. My chest finally regained the
ability to inhale and exhale without a sharp pain shooting down my core. I hadnt
erased all my misgivings, but at least it felt like a step in the right direction.
While the three strangers meant to help me remained out of sight, I retracted to one
corner of the video store. The clothes warming my body didnt exactly fit, though they
gave more warmth than the lacking hospital gown. I kept Alricks jacket zipped up,
the keychain tucked away in a pocket, and hugged Vincenzos backpack against my
chest as I cowered behind the Porno section like a wet cat. The familiar possessions
presented enough comfort to let me momentarily doze off.
It was the girl that shook me awake some time later. I opened my eyes to find her
crouching in front of me, holding a steaming cup of what I could smell to be coffee. I
subconsciously smiled at the scent, reaching out to take it before she had a chance
to offer.
Your stuff is finished. Grandpa is waiting for you in the front. Drink this and come up
when youre ready, she whispered cautiously. I followed a glance she threw over her

489

shoulder to find the reason behind her lowered volume: customers. A few teenagers
roamed the aisles, sneaking peeks at the covers of the Porn movies when they thought
no one was watching. I spared a curt nod, sending Veronica on her way as I cradled
the gifted coffee. Itd been ages since I last drank a cup.
Just as I was about to take my first sip, wandering gossip stopped me. Did you hear
about that Pickett guy? a boys voice muttered.
Yeah, can you believe it? his friend responded. My dads selling all the stocks he
has of Pickett Industries. He says
I tore myself away from the corner fast enough to dodge the rest of his sentence.
Finding myself undeserving of the coffee, I left it abandoned on the floor as I rushed to
the front counter.
Veronicas grandfather peeked over the rim of his glasses when I approached him, a
stern though collected look on his face as he quietly furrowed his eyebrows. Without
wasting a word on me, he pulled out a large envelope from behind the counter and
slipped it toward me. I followed his example in keeping the silence. Words could no
longer do anything to help me.
Inside the envelope I found several papers linking me to a new identity; a new birth
certificate, a passport, driver license, school ID, and many other documents Id never
owned even with my real name. To say the least, dear Grandpa was very thorough
with his work. Id officially become Matthew Lockwood in the eyes of the world.
According to my new papers, I had blonde hair, green eyes, and a prescription of 2.5
for my glasses. Id also grown about an inch and gained ten pounds. Talk about
surreal.
Do you have it? the old man asked, breaking my concentration on the papers.
Have what? I asked dumbly.
From behind the counter materialized another essential item, which he easily slid my
way. This is your plane ticket, he paused, reaching up with his other hand to quietly
adjust his glasses. Ill be needing the compensation.
My brain lagged. I had no idea what he was talking about. Compensation? It took a
few seconds for my film reel to tick back far enough to recall the need for payment.
Oh right. I hadnt been sent empty-handed. Ah, yes, just a second I mumbled,
more to myself than the stranger. Kneeling down beside the counter, I set my
backpack against my thigh and jerked the zipper open.

490

The extensive amount of green bills inside shocked the logic back into me.
Compensation. Money. Vincenzo had told me to give them half after they finished
their work. The world made sense again.
As I stood, I zipped the bag up again and rested the whole thing on the countertop
beside the old mans hand. He released his grip on the plane ticket, allowing a brief
moment for me to snatch it up. Thank you, I told him. For all your hard work.
Wait a minute, he said quickly, standing up from his seat when I moved to turn away
from him. Your bag.
I dont need it. Take it all, I retorted.
The old man opened up the bag, stealing a quick look at the content before frowning
up at me. How far do you intend on going without any money? he said gravely.
Just far enough, I replied honestly. I was homeless once. I could do it again.
Stop, he growled. I wont be responsible for anything happening to a friend of
Vincenzos. You wait right here. You hear me, boy? Dont go anywhere.
My eyebrows rose a bit in surprise, triggering a drop in my lower jaw. Before I had a
chance to stop him, hed snatched my bag and disappeared into the backroom. A
few seconds later, his grandson returned to the front to man the cash register. He
ignored my existence, obligating me to migrate to a corner where I waited anxiously
for the grandfathers return.
About ten minutes later, when the lingering teenagers left with a newly released
action movie, Veronica approached me in my damp corner. She had my bag in
hand, along with the fake glasses that she kindly handed off to me. I packed some
more clothes for you, she informed sweetly. You be safe, okay? Wherever youre
going.
The bag felt much lighter when I claimed it back into my possession. Had they taken
all the money? I sure hoped so, but I didnt have the courage to check. Thanks, was
all I said before bolting out of the video store. Her smile made me uneasy. Nice people
made me uneasy. I didnt see myself worthy of any sort of kindness.
A glance at the plane ticket let me know I had just over an hour to get to the airport. I
didnt spare any time lingering aboutId have to suffer through a cab ride, but being
inside a deathtrap seemed oddly fitting the regiment of self-punishment I was ready to
unleash on myself. So I waved down a stray yellow car and set my destination as the
airport. I planned on paying him with the clothes in the bag, but when I rummaged

491

through the contents I found that Veronicas grandfather had only taken half of the
cash. The rest remained with me.
If I had a time machine, I dont know how far back I would go to undo my mistakes.
Back to the alleyway, where I never should have entered? To the moment I picked up
the bloody cell phone, when I shouldnt have called the ambulance? Or the moment
the grey-eyed monsters boyish smile stole my heart away? Could I go that far back?
Could I stop the time machine at the moment before I walked into the Bureau? Could
I just stop before I opened the drawer that held my past, the drawer that drove me to
the brink of insanity? Could I stop myself before I goaded Elena into giving Ashers
location away? Could I stop then?
I didnt know which memories I would be willing to give up. To avoid the pain, Id have
to glaze over the moments of happiness. Id have to give them up, and I didnt want
to.
So as I got on the plane I tried not to linger on the idea of leaving behind Anna, Zack,
and the haven of my diner. I tried not to let myself think of the big blue house or the
wilted garden behind it. I tried not to think about the three men that had brought
color back into my life, pulling me out of the grey haze Id walked through as a zombie
for years. I tried not to think about turkey sandwiches, Bourbon or cigarettes. The
difficulty came in the important detail of my reluctance to forget. I didnt want to
forget them. I didnt want to let go of any of it. I didnt want to run away again.
But for once I didnt run for my own selfish reasons.
For once I ran for someone else.
I ran for Asher Pickett.
I ran for him.
###
Dont miss the Part 2 of this story, Matthew (Muffin #2)

492

Resident of San Francisco.

I just hope I can amuse everyone long enough with my stories. Let me know what you
think in your reviews! Thanks guys, hope you enjoy!

http://mahsa.deviantart.com/
https://www.facebook.com/muffinings

493