MARISSA
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go up with you?’’ Ralph asked me gently, but with his knitted eyebrows and the way he gripped the steering wheel, I knew he needed alone time. I couldn’t blame him. I felt the same.
“No, don’t worry.’’ I forced a smile. “I never thought something like that was going on. I was so quick to paint him as an asshole.’’
“Hey, don’t feel bad, girlie. Wyatt has always been challenging when you get close.’’
“You’re worried, aren’t you?’’ I asked, and my own eyebrows slammed down.
“I have a bad feeling about this shit. Wyatt’s biological father doesn’t care if he hurt his son. I bet he likes it.’’ He waved off. “Don’t listen to me. I’m just pissed I didn’t listen to my guts earlier. I acted all butt hurt.’’
“You just said I shouldn’t blame myself.’’
“It’s different. You’ve known him just a few months. I’ve known Wyatt since we were seven, maybe earlier.’’ He sighed and offered me a tired smile. “Alright, if you need something call me, okay? It’ll probably take a while for Wyatt and Mr. Burton to…’’ he trailed off, and his weak smile vanished.
“Yeah, I know.’’ I cleared my throat when my voice cracked and opened the passenger door. “Call me if you hear anything.’’ At Ralph’s nod, I climbed out of the car and jogged to my building as my worries took a life of their own and constricted my throat and squeezed my heart.
Shaking, I walked into the building and climbed the stairs, my mind riveted to Wyatt, to his words, to the emotions I perceived in his eyes and that washed over me, reminded me of what I had felt when we made love.
As I reached my level, I looked down to get my cell phone to call Sophie because I didn’t think I’d be able to endure this waiting game on my own, but right before I unlocked the screen, a presence caught my attention.
I couldn’t explain why my heart sped up so fast it hurt in my chest, or why my blood ran cold through my veins. I stopped there in the middle of the hall and looked up, unsure of why I dreaded doing so.
My eyes first landed on gaunt hands from which veins, blue-green protruded. Those hands were so big that I feared the kind of damage they could do. The bruised knuckles attested to the violence I so easily pictured.
Slowly, I trailed my eyes up and met with a hard face, the kind of face you’d see on someone who leads a hard life. The man’s traits were harsh, carved so deeply his wrinkles hardened his expression that was already downright scary. His mouth with lips I bet had been once full was pursed until the lines around his thin lips created sinister shadows.
His dark eyes finished to chill me to the bones. They spoke of danger and anger, of everything dark that had never touched me but threatened me. And what was worse was that I knew this man. I knew him not because I could see bits and pieces of the man who had stolen my heart in spite of everything, but because I had seen him earlier, not even two hours ago.
I opened my mouth to talk, to say something, to find a way to get to my apartment safely, but my voice was gone. I stood there, gripping my phone tightly, my keys in the other hand and my mouth open as my eyes locked on the man Wyatt feared the most.
“I see you know who I am,’’ the man said and his voice, cavernous, made me take a step back. “Not so fast, cutie.’’
He snagged my forearm tightly. The press of his sweaty fingers in my skin had me cringing, but the pained sound that crept out of my lips wouldn’t catch my neighbors’ attention if they were home.
“Let me go,’’ I mumbled through gritted teeth as I tugged on my arm. The joint in my shoulder protested when he pulled hard once. Tears invaded my eyes. “What do you want?’’
“Tell me one thing, cutie. Do I look like a man who is stupid enough not to keep eyes on my son when I’m not around?’’
I stopped wriggling then. I ceased to breathe too.
He knew. He knew about Wyatt, about Mr. Burton and the cops.
“You should have left Wyatt alone,’’ I whispered and fought my tears because now wasn’t the time. Now, I must be brave and find a way out of this because if he sought me out and knew about the trap that was being set up, then I was in danger and nobody would be looking for me for hours. Everything could happen in hours. It took mere seconds for my parents' car to barrel into a tree and put me in a two-month coma. So hours…
With my chest heaving, I forced my eyes to stay in his, to gauge his intentions, but all I saw was a cold kind of anger.
“You’re a brave little thing, aren’t you? I see why my son is so taken with you.’’
“You know nothing about Wyatt.’’
“Is that right?’’ He snickered then, and the sound sent more chills down my spine. His fingers dug deeper into my forearm. His brittle nails scratched at my flesh, but I held on and didn’t move. At this point, I knew he wouldn’t let me go. I was trapped, at his mercy. “Cutie, I know enough to be sure he’s going to come running once he realizes I have you.’’
“And what are you going to do to him? Don’t you th—‘’
“Shut up,’’ he cut me off harshly. His face was so close to mine his spit hit me on the cheek. This close, I smelt the liquor coming from his mouth, the stale tobacco that seemed to follow him and mostly, I couldn’t escape the hatred in his eyes. “You have no idea what I’m capable of, cutie, and you sure don’t want to know. Now, keep your mouth shut.’’
Before I could take enough breath to scream until my throat was sore, his other hand fell over my mouth and clamped my lips shut so hard I bit my cheeks.
Blood took over the taste in my mouth, and the tears in my eyes fell at last.
***
WYATT
Fucking hell.
That’s all I kept repeating in my head as I sipped a Gatorade pretending that nothing was amiss. That was a joke.
Every-single-thing was amiss, starting with the junkies snorting lines or putting a needle in their veins. Or the smoke from joints that never seemed to leave the place anymore and gave me a permanent headache.
Low-lives dealers from around the city and suburbs grew more restless as my father was still a no-show, thirty minutes after the appointed time.
Today was supposed to be a delivery to some dealers so they could re-stock and go back to their business. It was rare when they were so many at once in the same place, but apparently, that was an important meeting set up by some boss that wouldn't be showing his mug of course.
I didn’t make a lick of sense of that shit, and I didn’t want to anyway. All I wanted was my biological father here so Dad could give the green light to the team on standby.
With the mic they’ve put on me, I had no doubt they had enough to put away the people in my apartment. After all, they kept on throwing left and right how many bucks they’ve made over the week, named drugs and one even talked about knifing someone in an alley.
But these low-lives dealers, some of which weren’t even twenty-one, weren’t the primary target. My father was.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I started when it vibrated against my thigh, but covered it by standing up.
“Hey, where’re you goin’?’’ A guy with a red hair asked me as he looked away from the GTA game as the other cursed him.
“Can I still take a piss in my own home? Fuck,’’ I snapped and made my way to the bathroom under the whistles and curses of the degenerates. What they had no idea was how badly I shook, how my guts knotted. One wrong move and things would escalate.
Once securely locked in the bathroom, I fished my phone out with shaky hands. I trembled so much the phone about fell in the toilet, but I tightened my sweaty grip on it.
One missed call from Dad.
I pressed my ear against the closed door and breathed out when I heard them fighting over the game.
He’s still not here. - Wyatt
We know. We can’t wait longer. He’s been tipped off for all we know. Where are you? - Dad
Fuck. I rubbed at my face and raked a hand through my hair.
I’m locked in the bathroom. - Wyatt
Stay there. Don’t move until someone gets you out. And crouch down. It’ll be over soon, Son. - Dad
Fear grew then. I wasn’t afraid for my immediate safety because I trusted my father and his colleagues. I was terrified because if they didn’t catch my father now, it meant he knew I snitched and I was sure he’d come back for revenge.
I wouldn’t be rid of him, of his poison and of the demons that clawed at me day and night.
I put my phone down and sat. With my back against the door, my legs spread on either side of the toilet and my head down against my raised legs, I covered my ears with my hands when the first shout rang through the apartment.
Then a gunshot broke the silence in the other room followed by yells and screams. I closed my eyes tightly, so tight spots appeared behind my eyelids.
Memories flashed in my head, of brawls that drew blood in front of me when I was a kid, of someone’s eyes turning glassy from death, of bruises and punches, or curses and crass laughers. Everything came back to hit me at once as hell broke loose, ruining my little life right in the next room without putting an end to that nightmare.
***
MARISSA
I had very limited knowledge of bad men and the danger they represented. What I knew came from the TV series and action flicks I had watched over the years, and all were Hollywood made, but something told me that the fact Wyatt’s biological father didn’t cover my eyes when he took me to a dilapidated apartment didn’t bode well for me.
After a fifteen-minute car ride, he parked in front of an old building in the worst part of Atlanta and forcefully lead me to this dilapidated apartment that smelled of mold and dirt. But what had my stomach rolling wasn’t the smell, it was the traces of dried blood and other suspicious stains, some of which I had under my ass on the destroyed mattress he forced me to sit on in the corner of the main room that was smaller than my apartment. The only other furniture in the room was the table and chairs in the middle where he sat, watching me.
I was gagged, my hands were bound together, and I was at this monster’s mercy while he put into motion a devious plan to get Wyatt here, so he could do God knows what to him.
I wasn’t just afraid anymore. I was terrified. My breathing was all choppy, coming out in loud pant through my nose as the dirty gag chaffed the skin on the corners of my mouth.
“Calm down, cutie. If you keep that up, you’re going to faint.’’
I tried talking but, it was useless. Only a pitiful noise came out, sounding more like I was begging than the curse I intended to throw at him.
His laugh rang through the empty apartment, echoing hollowly through the room. That was further proof that he didn’t care if someone knew he was here. That was another detail that told me things wouldn't end well for me.
“You’re feisty. Don’t know if that’s stupid or amusing in your situation.’’ He shrugged and then took a gun out from the waistband of his old jeans. My eyes fell on the gleaming metal that held the kind of lethal power that ended lives with just a finger. “See that gun, cutie? I’ve had it for years. It served me right when I had to take out someone who would cross me. It never failed me and never will.’’ He aimed at me then, and I stopped blinked as more tears fell from my eyes to further dampen the gag.
Some people said that you saw your life go right in front of you when death knocked on your door, but it had never happened to me. I almost died years ago in the car accident, but only darkness swallowed me. I don’t remember being scared either when the car went into a tailspin, and the tree got closer and closer on my side.
Right now, things were different.
My life didn’t pass through my eyes, but the possibilities did.
Love, a family, children, a tattoo shop, a grown-up Paul, Wyatt… Wyatt and Wyatt.
These passed through my mind as terror seized me, chilling me so much I started shaking to the point of biting hard into the gag until my jaw and teeth ached.
What movies didn’t tell you when you had a gun aimed at you was the sudden urge to pee, so strong it was a battle not to wet yourself. They didn’t tell you either how your body went numb and how you welcomed any and all pains in your body because they were a testament that you were still alive, still breathing.
“I’ve never taken it kindly when someone betrayed me. Not Wyatt’s mother, not the first dealer that knocked me out and took my stash when I started dealing, not your father.’’
I blinked and looked away from the gun to watch the man that held me captive. His sinister smile… That smile had me pressing my back against the wall even if it put more strain on my shoulders.
“Looks like I’ve got your attention, cutie.’’