[ First Off, I want to thank everyone who's been reading/reviewing. I owe you my deepest thanks. So there it is. ;) Enjoy, you lovely lovers of literature.]
I had never been so emotionally attracted to anyone in my life.
Of course there were physical relationships; too many men to remember, but they had been nothing more than bodies for use. Income opportunities. So as I rolled down the window; the wind catching my hair, grazing my face as gently as Mark's hand, I knew we were something else entirely. I was now sitting next to him on a much deeper level, much more sophisticated than any person I had opened up to. I began driving back with my eyes on the road, and almost reluctantly: my heart in his hands.
-
We returned, apparently, late.
"Where-" She paused, glancing from me to Mark. "What took you so long?" Amanda grabbed the shopping bag from me, reaching inside for John's medicine and fruit. She walked past us, kneeling to open a cabinet. She pulled a gleaming knife from inside, and proceeded to slice an apple from the bag on the counter. I opened my mouth to speak, but she held her hand up, silencing me. "Nevermind," She shifted her glare towards Mark. "I'm sure I don't care."
I watched her carefully, as she sliced quickly and efficiently, barely looking at her hands. She was professional...firm.
"Be careful." I spoke low, trying not to offend her.
"I am careful." She murmured harshly. Her tone fell even lower, "As if I don't know how to use one of these."
Then she turned to look at me, so fiercely, that I drew a small, fast breath. She neatly arranged the slices onto a plate, and sat them down in front of John with two white pills and a cup of water.
Mark left my side, noticing John's work papers on the tables around us, he tried to take them, swiftly collecting them and place them in a hidden place.
"Leave them." John breathed as Amanda handed him a napkin. "Detective Matthews may want to have a look." He almost grinned.
For the strangest reason, I had the urge to laugh. It seemed almost ridiculous, why would The Detective be around to see them unless...
"John-" I called, disbelievingly. "You dont mean to say...he's not coming here, is he? You're saying that..this cop is going to be in the same room with the people who took his kid?! "
"If Detective Matthews is to be tested accordingly, I must be present. For you, it is of course, optional."
My breath caught in my throat. I tried to speak, it was like forcing vomit with an empty stomach.
"We can't," I said, trying to convey my thoughts, "It can't happen here. Not-" I sighed deeply. "Not in your condition, John! What if he...what if he hurts you?!"
"I have already considered every possibility." John told me.
I looked around, Amanda was standing by John's side, eyes locked on me, glowering. She seemed to understand me, but was obviously defying my logic for John's game. Mark was not looking at me, and I finally knew I was alone here.
I directed my attention to John once more, angry this time. "Then you must know that we could all very well go to prison after tonight! After all we've worked for!" I yelled, to no one in particular. I went to John, pleading now. "Dont... If something were to happen..." I closed my eyes, pained.
"The rules are finite." John replied.
"The police are coming." Amanda informed me, "I've already left Matthews a message, his son is still missing. He'll come for John eventually." She stepped closer to me, folding her arms sternly as she did. "So no matter what, no matter what you tell yourself, this isn't your game, and you don't have a say." She was too close for comfort; a threat.
My nostrils flared, my hands twitched. Every cell within me howled slaughter. An instinct from somewhere under the surface felt the burning need to eradicate any and all enemies. It was the urban child in me, begging to wreak havoc. As I had learned, growing up, allowing the streets to teach me right from wrong:
"If they fvck with ya, choke 'em out." My neighbor Mrs. Chavez tells me, one evening. I have run home in tears, it is a few weeks after my tenth birthday. My former best friend Anna called me worthless and my mother a tramp, when she learned that I had once lived in a shelter and that I had no father.
Mrs. Chavez has several children, she gave birth to the first born at the age of sixteen. She discontinued her education at that point, and never went back. So there I stand, taking advice from her as she opens a can of beer, and offers me some.
I shake my head nervously, and I wouldn't try any alcohol until my seventeenth birthday when I subsequently have too much and fall unconscious down a flight of stairs.
"S-she she said-" I can barely speak through my woe, I had been victim to great betrayal. "She made fun of me." I can finally finish.
I wail hoarsely as Mrs. Chavez hugs me and pats my back. She gives me advice.
"Choke 'em out!" Mrs. Chavez told me.
"I don't know what you mean." I reply honestly.
"It means," She begins, taking a sip of her Spanish beer. "If Anna says something mean to you, that hurts your feelings, then you punch Anna between the eyes." It was some type of urban city slang that implied the beating or violent act toward another person.
I had never considered it, it seemed plausible, but I wasn't certain of myself. Could I muster the courage? Would I be angry enough the next time?
"She's bigger than me." I confess, dolefully.
"Then you'll just have to punch her in the throat." She grins and points to the spot just under her chin.
I nod, looking away, towards the playground. I wonder if revenge was worth the punishment I would receive.
-
I could feel John's eyes on me, and somewhere, a fire was extinguished. My skin still prickled angrily, I bit my mouth, sedating the coming frenzy.
"Do we have a problem?" She tantalized.
I glanced at John's expression. It was one of warning. "No," I sighed, "Of course not." It took everything I had.
I looked down, peeking up once to see her nod and turn, leaving for the other side of the room. I stood there, totally defeated. Maybe it was a good thing, but one would say it sucked.
-
"I'm an idiot." I told Mark as I shrugged out of my jacket in a secret room somewhere downstairs. He had hurriedly taken me there after the confrontation, so I could cool off. He didn't know, but I knew John had told him to.
Mark was making me coffee. I hoped it wouldn't be too hard to keep down. I was having too much trouble eating at the time.
"You're not an idiot, not for speaking your mind. Not for being brilliant and sticking to what you believe in." He paused. "But it's probably better if you follow John's lead from here on out." He offered me a bagel, I shook my head. He sat it in front of me anyhow, it was warm and smelled good. I stared at it, and willed myself to have at least one bite. I ignored it after that.
"What do you mean?" I said, mouth half full.
"I mean, this game is far too complex to contradict what he's already planned."
"And what is that exactly?" My feet were hurting, so I slid out of my brown moccasins and pushed them under the table with my foot.
"John anticipates Eric Matthews to lash out at him, for the kidnapping of his son. It's not what anyone wants, it's merely something almost...inevitable. Still...John is giving him a chance."
I looked up at Mark, furrowing my brow. "Inevitable?" I couldn't believe that one man's fate could be so entirely foreseen. No matter what he's done in the past.
"You obviously don't know Eric."
-
This stress is really fucking me over.
I thought I would run to the store barefoot and just buy a pack of Newports. I mean, I was seriously considering it. I only wanted one. I would throw the rest out. I had drank my whole cup of coffee, my bagel was sitting in the trash with one bite taken from it, and a couple of little black ants having the rest. But man, was I craving. I started taking deep breaths, and counting backwards from sixty, someone said that if you can stop thinking about it for exactly one minute, then your craving would go away. I really doubted it. Then I got scared, because I remembered where I learned that quitting tactic from.
Mommy.
I thought I was stronger than that.
As I sat, with my head on the table and my arms folded under my head, I could feel nothing but the silence creeping up on me, and then Mark's soothing grasp on my shoulders. He leaned closer to me, kneading the stress from my bones.
"Tense, huh." He said almost wryly, making me hum with satisfaction.
I grinned, eyes closed. "Don't ask."
"I wasn't going to." I could hear the smile in in his tone. "Don't move." He said.
"Hmm?" I didn't think about it, but I did as he said.
Then I felt his breath on my neck, it caught me off guard but I did my best not to move. Every kiss left along the side of my neck was a new chill running down my spine. My hands were on my lap, my fingers pressing into my thighs. I clenched my teeth to keep from sighing with fondness. I finally relaxed, while he worked his fingers into me. I let my head fall forward a bit, but leaned back at a point as he spoke low in my ear. "We can always be like this." He purred. I was tense again, afraid to fall. I stood up, turning and leaning against the table. We faced each other, daring to be so concentrated.
"So..." I searched for the words. "Is that really what you want? Just me? 'always'?"
He was not far from me, "Is that something you wouldn't want? Because I always assumed you wanted something enduring."
"Of course that's what I want..." I wrung my hands. "I just don't think it's something I can be for someone else. I'm a ruined person..."
"I see." He said, wistfully. "If you really believe that, then...we'll change that, I think." He held out his hand invitingly.
"I can only hope." I told him, taking it, pulling him towards me instead of the other way around.
He placed a hand on my waist, I swayed. It was almost a waltz, except there was more passion, and no music.
" 'He who has hoped, can never despair.' " Mark leaned down and kissed my jawbone.
I thought for a moment, "Caesar and Cleopatra?"
He nodded, and looking more pensive than before. I hated him like this, I preferred when he would wear his emotions on his sleeve for me. I wasn't always good at figuring people out. Things were much easier when he was readable. I stared up at him, as he held me and looked straight at the door. I wasn't paying attention to what he was; I was only absorbed by his demeanor and what I could readily do or say to fix it.
"Help me, help you." He said, never looking away from the door.
I rested my head on him, sighing. "Alright."
As the words left my mouth, I heard a scurry from behind the door. Mark must have known it was coming, as he was already watching it, when I turned to look. The door opened, and Amanda ran inside looking frazzled. I finally concluded that Eric Matthew's game had just begun.
I tried to speak.
"No time, They're here!" She said, forcing me off of Mark and pulling me towards the exit. He stood by, watching me go. My feet were moving, but my heart stayed behind. He waved, smiling a sad smile that made me say something incredible as we went. I mouthed, 'I love you' in the last seconds, before Amanda and I were pushing further into the dark.
-
Amanda and I fled to a safe location. We did not drive. We wore the hoods on our jackets, and walked briskly down seven blocks in the cold, to a bus stop, which took us to a dirty old motel, all so we wouldn't blow our covers. I knew it was worth it, but as I found myself stuck in a used up old room, watching television (which I hate) with Amanda Young (whom I hate) I was beginning to think it wasn't.
I sat on one of the two beds in the room, the sheets were dusty pink and were decorated with green lotus flowers. They smelled like lemon fabric spray, and cigarette smoke (which made me increasingly frustrated). My stomach made angry noises, but I couldn't feel the discomfort of hunger. I was numb from the neck down. I fell to my side, and curled into the fetal position, closing myself off from the world; which was just Amanda Young at the moment. She was clipping her fingernails over the trash can, muttering to herself. We didn't speak to each other much, our interactions were mostly comprised of short stares and annoyed huffs. I could see John looking at me in my mind's eye, I could see him judging my newfound disallegience. It was not what I intended, though. I only wanted us to stay together safely. The very last place I wanted to be was separated from Mark and John. And so I despised these walls, and for once, I despised the rules.
This wasn't to say I wasn't going to follow them. No, I wasn't a complete idiot. I knew how things were done in this new life, and I didn't know any better way. All I had known before this were perverted men in cheap cars who brought me to cheap rooms where they smelled like cheap liquor. So things were better here, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. And I knew that I never wanted to go back. I had survived my upbringing, my poor decisions, and my consequences. Surely I could put up with this, at least for the time being. It was the least I could offer...to John. He was not as kind with everyone as he was towards me. I had to endure for him, because he had already suffered so much for the greater good.
I picked my body up from the bed, ignoring the ache in my abdomen and walked towards the mirror on the dresser across the room. I pushed some hair out of my face, tried unsuccessfully to smile, look pretty. To reflect the supposed good on the inside, onto the outside. It was a struggle.
I cant be the greater good. I thought. There only used to be something good here.
But its been through too much, and it doesn't want to come out anymore.
-
