THREE
~MIA~
I had decided that just sitting around Danny’s wasn’t doing me any good. Much as I was enjoying my time there—much as I needed the comfort it provided me with—it wasn’t doing enough to distract me from…
It wasn’t doing enough to distract me.
After a lot of convincing, Danny and Candy agreed to let me go out. I told them I had some errands to run, which, in my defense, wasn’t exactly a lie, and they agreed provided I stayed local and kept to heavily populated areas. This, I figured, shouldn’t be a problem, so I had no worries about agreeing and having it be a lie. Granted, I’d anticipated stipulations, but I’d also anticipated an extreme degree to those stipulations that would force me to lie in order to get out on my own.
As it turned out, I’d been a little overzealous with my pessimism.
And so it was that I was a free woman, so to speak.
I’d decided I wanted to go to the small town that Jace had taken to me on one of our first dates. Though it was admittedly not as local as Danny and Candy would have probably liked, I figured it still counted if public transit had it on their route. I moved onto the bus, clutching the folded page I’d printed out for the bus schedule. Yeah, it was on the public transit route—and, yeah, that meant it was local—but it did require a great deal of “take this bus to catch that bus and then run a few miles to get to another bus at this route so that you can be at that stop on time to catch…” and so forth and so on. The schedule said that it would be an estimated five-hour adventure just to get there, assuming that I didn’t miss this bus or ride for too long on that bus or, heaven forbid, not run fast enough. Sure, I could always just call Danny if I got myself in a jam; he’d be quick to either ride out to fetch me or send another one of the Crow Gang’s members if he was too busy.
But then I’d pretty much be grounding myself to his house until Jace finally woke up.
If he ever—
I gave a small smirk—a “good for you, Mia”-gesture—for cutting off Depression in mid-sentence like that.
Good for you, indeed, I congratulated without a single shred of irony.
It was the little victories.
A man sitting across the aisle from me saw my self-congratulating and offered a strange leer of his own, one that would have been all teeth if he’d had any teeth to begin with. Just like that I was missing Jace even more; missing our rides on his motorcycle. There was peace and joy and freedom with him, and, on his motorcycle, there was flying. Here, on this bus, there was a stress-inducing labyrinth of routes and schedules and, on board, an overwhelming sense of being on display to the wrong sort of people. It was, unfortunately, not an unfamiliar sensation, I realized. Though it wasn’t a street corner and I was most certainly not hooking anymore, I couldn’t help but feel like a piece of meat on display. And, just like when I was hooking, the sorts of people that were prone to ogle weren’t exactly the sort I’d ever want to display myself to. Not that I was much for displaying myself for anybody else since I’d met Jace. Considering all of this, I remembered all the times Candy and I had taken the bus to our corner, already fully donned in our “uniforms.” I thought that anybody seeing us would have no problem figuring out what we were and where we were off to, but now, dressed in a pair of comfortable khakis and a loose-fitting tee, I imagined that anybody who might have ridden one of those late-night busses with me and Candy wouldn’t even recognize me now. It was crazy how much things had changed in only a week’s time.
All because of Jace.
Taking some comfort in thinking of him, I decided to close myself off from the outside world (inside the bus) and replay the fondest memories I had of him—of us. The relationship might have been young—a surprising reminder given everything we’d already gone through together—but there was no shortage of happy memories to dwell upon. After all, I was about to reacquaint myself with the small town we’d gone to together. I gazed out the window, replaying everything from start-to-finish and bringing myself back around to the present just as the bus reached the first of many stops for my journey.
I sauntered off, waited two minutes—offering polite smiles to passersby and otherwise playing the role of a normal person on the streets—and then boarded my next bus. Even this process, one that I was sure others thought of as annoying and mundane, felt incredibly liberating for me. I was my own person now, free to make plans and commit to them without worrying about being late for a night full of alleyway blowjobs and backseat butt-sex. Sure, there were a few creeps on the bus who leered at me in ways that reminded me of the way Johns looked at me when I was wearing a whore’s uniform and standing about in fuck-me boots, but at least they were just staring. There was no unsettling questions about how much for this; no follow-up moment where crumpled bills made an appearance; no uncomfortable effort to try to upsell from my mouth to my pussy, or from my pussy to my ass. The fact that my body was mine to speak for and not seen as the permanent property of T-Built and the Carrion Crew or the temporary property of some creep with a few bucks to throw away when his hand and a wi-fi connection could just as easily get the job done. And while my life was in no way perfect—I wasn’t even totally in the clear, after all—it certainly was better than it had been. And, even if the Carrion Crew did manage to capture me again, that asshole T-Built was dead and gone.
Good luck finding a sociopath to replace the likes of him, I silently challenged, remembering my old pimp’s routine of rape and scare-tactics to keep us controlled.
Meh, another thought chimed casually, they’d probably just kill you for the inconvenience.
My breath caught at that and I clenched my eyes shut. Behind my lids, I saw T-Built’s dead body, bullet-riddled and slumped in Candy’s and my old kitchen, surrounded in the flames. The fire licked at his corpse, then recessed abruptly like an animal might after it’s tasted something foul, and his eyes snapped open like a pair of traps that caught me in their sights.
“It’s only a matter of time, whore!” the ghost in my mind taunted.
By some miracle, I managed not to scream at the waking nightmare.
I committed to keeping my eyes open and my mind in the present for the rest of the trip.
****
The rest of the trip was enough to get my mind off of all the ugly thoughts I’d dredged up early in the journey. I’d made good enough time in switching stops, and was even able to duck inside a nearby market to buy myself a Coke and a random magazine boasting a celebrity I didn’t recognize and the promise of “59 WAYS TO PLEASE YOUR MAN” on the cover. As the last bus carried me into the small town, I made a game out of challenging each of the fifty-nine “ideas,” realizing most of them were either weak variations on the same thing. Almost half of them were total nonsense, and of the ones that had any merit to them only a half-dozen seemed even remotely promising. Deciding that the woman who’d wrote the “article” had obviously never consulted a man—I’d honestly be surprised if she’d ever even tried all of what she was suggesting—I began to play with the idea of writing one of these myself.
While my whoring days were over, I figured there was nothing wrong in carrying what I’d learned over to educate other women. If nothing else I’d be doing a service—without actually doing any service—to the men those women went on to hook up with.
Tucking the idea away for future consideration, I glanced back out the window as the familiar landmarks of the small town came into view. A few of the taller buildings of the market poked up in the distance ahead, and I found myself getting excited. For a Monday, I was happily surprised to see that it was packed. Though I wasn’t sure how likely it would be that any members of the Carrion Crew might be out this far, I knew how important it was to stay in crowded areas.
The bus finally came to a stop, and the hydraulics hissed; the street seemed to rise up. Finally, the doors opened, the sound of life and activity slipping in the greet me, and I made my way out. Stepping off the bus, I paused to look around, appreciating how different everything looked this time around. It had been darker during our date, and an annual festival called “Canal Days” had been in full swing. The main street had been closed off to traffic, and all of the shops and businesses had either been operating outdoors or featuring a great deal of their goods out on the street. And while much was different, I still got a very homey and comfortable impression of community from the stretch. Realizing I was smiling, I started on down the road, letting my eyes lead my way.
I’d made a loose decision, though I wasn’t sure quite when the decision had been made, to get something for Jace while I was out this way. The decision, existing like an apple bobbing about in a washbasin of water, had been there for quite some time, though every time I tried to grab at it for a specific idea of what to get it would sink away into dark depths and refuse to come back up until I abandoned the effort. Wandering the stretch all over again, however, it dawned on me that I already knew what to get him; in some ways I’d known ever since the night Jace had first taken me here. Satisfied that I had a plan, I committed to enjoying myself for the time being until I finally came upon my decided target.
Stepping over to a vendor selling a variety of chocolates, I bought myself a small bag of chocolate covered pretzels. Once again walking through the market, I thought back to my first date with Jace.
“So you’re a dessert-before-dinner sort of girl?”
“When I can be.”
“I like a girl with an appetite.”
“Then you’ll love me.”
I smiled at the memory, continuing to look around the market. Then, finally, I happened across what I’d been hunting for. The vendor, a local photographer who’d made a career out of traveling and snapping pictures abroad, still operated from a kiosk on the side of the road. A fair number of prints hung like fruit from a bizarre tree with no real symmetry or reason to their placement, and a small pang of worry started to creep up my spine as I realized I couldn’t find what I’d decided to come here for. I was growing evermore certain I’d have to begin an awkward line of questioning with the photographer to track down the particular image before…
“I’ve been here before,” Jace had said, referring to the scene depicted in the photograph, when we’d first come across this exact same print on that first night.
“Really? Where is this?”
“It was a small fisherman town in Rome. My family went on a vacation there before my brother graduated high school. We ended up getting lost and stopped at a small restaurant to get something to eat and get our bearings. The view we had from there wasn’t much different than this picture, actually.”
“Wow, that sounds amazing. I’ve actually never left the States. I always wanted to travel, but never got around to it.”
“You still could,” he’d assured me then, sporting one of his broad, promising Jace-trademarked smiles.
Smiling just as much in response to the memory as at the find, I grabbed the photograph and stepped over to the vendor. My smile only grew as I paid for the purchase, parting with it only long enough to let it be bagged and returned to me, and I practically skipped off, holding it to my chest.
“You still could.”
The words held promise of an adventure yet to come; of a life that we’d be sharing. This picture, something I’d subconsciously wanted to give to Jace even on that first night but had no way of offering, would be a symbol of both what had been as well as what would be.
“You still could.”
I wanted to do that. I wanted to go all around the world with Jace. My hand went to the pendant—the bird captured in mid-flight—against my neck, the one he’d gotten me that night from another vendor, and I gently squeezed it as memories and plans swirled in an excited storm within me. Freedom. The pendant and all the memories of the night that brought it to me, the events with Jace, and everything I dreamed we could do together…
It all made me feel so free!
As I continued through the market, I looked around at various shops and stores and all of the items they offered, wondering if I should buy anything else for Jace. I looked back down at the photograph and ran my thumb over the edge that poked out from the bag, imagining myself there, in Rome, with Jace.
I was so entranced with the fantasy that I could almost smell the sea water.
“Looks like you’re letting your mind wander, eh, sis?”
The familiar voice was like a dark claw rocketing up from those black-and-white waters—something too dark and far too sinister to grace the scene in my mind—and yanking me back into the unforgiving depths of reality. The unforgiving depths of reality, where I was supposed to be keeping an eye out—where I was supposed to be mindful of my surroundings—so I didn’t wind up back on a street corner or, worse yet, wind up dead.
But this…
I froze at the voice, not wanting to believe I was hearing correctly.
It couldn’t be him.
He was in prison…
Right?
Still chastising myself for getting distracted, I turned towards the source. Clearing my thoughts, I glanced up into the familiar blue eyes. I hadn’t been wrong; it was my brother. It was Mack. I blinked, shaking my head a bit, still trying to figure out how this could be, and took a cautious step back. Then, remembering myself, I looked around at my surroundings—saw that, yes, I was still out in a public place and in broad daylight, no less—and squared my footing, narrowing my eyes.
My brother met my one-step retreat with a one-step advance of his own, but there was no threat to the motion; he was just maintaining the distance. Reminding myself that this was family and not a member of the Carrion Crew, I suppressed the instinctual urge to withdraw again. As I looked him over, I realized he hadn’t changed at all. His blond hair had been cropped short in what could only be a prison-fashioned hair style and his skin had gotten paler since our last encounter. Being locked up could do that, I supposed. He was still tall and lanky, he had lost some of the muscle he’d had before getting into trouble. But he had those eyes. Deep and cunning and mischievous; eyes that everyone used to say we shared, but now I hated to imagine that being the case. On him they looked untrustworthy, the eyes of a plotter, and I didn’t like the idea of giving off that impression. Worse yet, the way those eyes looked at me, seeming to study me, trace me for some future reference; all the while appearing to suck in details that made me feel like I was standing before him stark naked.
Stifling an uncomfortable shiver, I wondered if he’d prefer it that way.
“What are you doing here, Malcolm?” I demanded. “Aren’t you supposed to be in jail?”
“Got out on good behavior,” he answered with a smirk. “Figured I’d pay a visit to my darling little sister before leaving.”
“Leaving?” I pressed, uncertain.
Mack shrugged. “Are you surprised? You obviously heard what sort of trouble I got myself into”—You have no idea, you bastard! I thought at that—“and being out of the big house doesn’t exactly mean I’m out of the real trouble.”
“Then the Carrion Crew is still after you?” I asked. I wasn’t sure how much he knew of what had happened—if he knew that the debts he owed to the Carrions had motivated them to “hire” me as a whore to pay them off—but it seemed to me that if he was planning on leaving then he had no idea that their sights were on me now.
Mack laughed at the question, but there was no humor in it whatsoever. “From the sounds of it I’m not the only Chobavich that they’re after,” he said.
I frowned at that. So he did know. “Guess I should thank you for that?” I hissed.
He scoffed and shook his head. “I didn’t ask you to do anything, Mia. I never even had the chance. If the Crew came knocking on your door to settle my debt then what happened next is strictly between you and them.”
I resisted the urge to haul off and hit him then and there. “I was hardly given a choice,” I said, barely able to get my voice above a whisper at that point.
He shrugged and looked off in the direction of the sound of laughter. “Same old Mia,” he mused, finally tearing his eyes from the distraction and shaking his head. “Always the victim, right? ‘Boo-hoo! My mean, ol’ brother made bad choices and now I’m a whore for it!’” He shook his head again and grinned. “If you wanna start blaming me for all that then you’d better start thanking me for the rest.”
I felt my lip curl at him. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“Word on the street is you got yourself rescued by a badass biker boy-toy. Strong, chiseled type with power, money… everything a little girl needs, right? So if it’s my fault that you had a few sore-pussy nights then it’s just as much because of me that you found yourself this big-deal boyfriend who’s gone and stirred up quite a stinky situation.”
I actually took a step towards him at that, having a harder and harder time not hitting him. “And what would you know about this ‘stinky situation?’”
Mack did nothing to move away; seemed to almost glow as I closed the distance between us. “I did say that I need to get out of this city, didn’t I?” he repeated.
“What do you want?” I asked with a glare. “Why are you really here?”
“I just figured I should warn you that they’re making you a full-scale priority,” he answered with a smirk.
“Oh, yeah, right,” I sneered, moving myself away from him—unable to bear the closeness any longer—and starting to turn away. “You seem really torn up about all of this.”
I heard him mutter, “Speaking of ‘torn up,’” and felt his eyes on my backside. I turned back towards him at that, catching him as his eyes moved across my body, running over me like an oil slick. I shivered at the oozy sensation. I crossed my arms over my chest. Even with the large, baggy tee-shirt I had on I didn’t feel comfortable in front of him then.
“Look, Mack, I’m done with them, okay! I never should have been in that situation in the first place, but I went through with it because I… dammit, I felt like I owed you something. You were my brother and—”
“I still am your brother, dummy,” he interrupted.
I paused at that, realizing what I’d just said and still feeling it sounded right. Then, shaking my head, I said, “Whatever! I’m just done. I regret going through with it. For fuck’s sake, Mack, I nearly got killed. Things are better for me now. I’m out of that life, and now that you’re out of jail you can figure out your own mess. This was never my problem, anyway. I don’t owe them anything.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, sis,” he smirked, his eyes running across my body again, and this time I failed to hold back the shiver. “Y’see, that may have been true before. But you and your boy-toy torched quite a lot of product. And, from the sounds of it, there was a casualty, as well: a rather valuable member from the sounds of things. Not to mention all the other whores you’ve gone and inspired to high-tail it out of their own deals. So, yeah, you might not have owed them anything before, but you went and cost them an arm and a leg—and an entire body along with it—and made it very personal, Mia. You could’ve just been a good little slut and gotten us both off the hook…but instead you decided to look for some happily ever after with the wrong side.”
“This isn’t my fault, Mack,” I snarled. “The place blew up because of what was in there, not because of me or Jace.”
“And you think they see it that way?” he raised an eyebrow. “Your best feature might be between your legs, you slut, but don’t go pretending that you’ve got nothing between your ears.”
“Call me a ‘slut’ again and—”
“And what, slut!”
I felt my left eye twitch under the storm of rage within me, but I still managed to calmly say, “And I’ll make a call.” I glared. “I can get Jace’s guys—the other guys—here before you can say, ‘No, warden, don’t let the other inmates fuck my little asshole,’ and then you’ll have twice as much trouble on your head.” I tilted my head, studying him then. “The way I see it, Mack,” I said, “either you’re here because you’re trying to scare me back into handling your mess… or you think it’ll help put you in good standings with the Carrions. Well let me make a few things clear, bro: I am not going back, and if you don’t leave me alone—if I get the Crows involved with this—then the Carrion Crew will kill you just for breathing the same air as their enemies!”
Mack stared at me for a long time, the perverse leer gone and nothing but bitterness and hate left in their place. “Fine,” he finally said, holding up his hands in surrender and beginning to back away. “Doesn’t matter, anyway. They will get you, sis. What do you think? That it’s going to be okay? That you’ll just have some happily ever after with your Crow? You’re dreaming. This is the real world, and in the real world it’s the ones with the biggest guns that win the wars. And from what I’ve heard, the Crows don’t deal in guns.”
And then, turning away and slipping into the crowd of people, Mack was gone.
I was left staring out, not exactly at where he’d been, but at a great expanse of nothingness that my future had begun to decay into.
Then my phone started to ring.
Worrying that Danny or Candy might have caught on to my plan, a fresh stream of panic began to run through me as I quickly pulled out the source of the chimes. A bittersweet moment passed as I realized that I didn’t recognize the number, and I answered it with a warring sense of worry and cautious optimism.
“Hello?”
“Is this Mia Chobavich?” the voice on the other end asked calmly.
Calmly, I thought to myself. Calmly is good… right?
“This is,” I said slowly, wondering what I might have just confessed myself to. “May I ask who’s calling?”
“This is Nurse Addich from UR General,” the voice began. “I see that you are listed as one of the emergency contacts for Mister Jason Presley.”
“Oh… uh, yes. Yes, I am,” I answered, the panic coming back at the word emergency. “Is he… is he okay? Oh, please me he’s not—”
“Ma’am,” the voice somehow managed to remained calm while still asserting enough force to silence my worry. “I am calling to let you know he woke up about ten minutes ago. The doctors are in with him now, but we think he’ll be—”
“Oh thank God!” I groaned as I fell back against a bench on the sidewalk; Mack and all of his bullshit suddenly a gray and distant thought. “Thank you so, so much. I will be there shortly.”
“No problem at all,” Nurse Addich replied. “We will see you this afternoon.”
After hanging up with the nurse, I dialed out to Danny. Deciding that I didn’t want to wait on the bus to get to the hospital. I leaned back against the bench, a wave of happiness flooding me.
Jace was awake.
Things would be okay!
“Mia? Is everything okay?” Danny answered, sounding worried, after only two rings.
“Things are fine!” I smiled. “The hospital called! Jace is awake. Can you pick me up? I could take the bus but I don’t want to wait.”
Danny chuckled. “Told ya he’d wake up. And don’t worry, I’ll be right over. Where are ya?”
Blushing at the question, realizing that I had to come clean about my little adventure, I confessed.
The line was silent for a long moment.
“Danny?” I called out, questioning.
“Yer lucky that Jace loves you so much,” he grumbled back at me. “Damn lucky!”
“Y-yeah,” I said with a nervous chuckle. “Pretty lucky, huh?”
After hanging up, I moved my phone back to my purse and stood. Feeling revitalized from the news of Jace waking up, I decided that I wouldn’t let myself worry any more, at least for the time being, about Mack. Looking at a few more shops, I began to head towards the front entrance where the public parking was. I stopped at a small shop selling cotton candy and decided that I’d buy a bag for Danny for all he’d done. He deserved a small gift after everything he’d been dealing with for me.
****
Though it was, admittedly, a bit of a wait, the amount of time that passed between my call with Danny and the first audible roar of his approaching Harley proved to me just how scenic the bus route I’d taken was.
“Told ya it would only be a matter of time,” he teasingly mocked.
“Oh stop!” I grinned. “How many times do I have to tell you you were right?”
“Gay or not, a guy never gets tired of hearing that he was right. But, I dunno,” he smirked, “how ‘bout one more time?”
“Fine, you were right,” I said.
“Anything go down while you were here?” he asked.
Though I really didn’t like the idea of hiding something from Jace or any of the Crows, I couldn’t help but feel that worrying Danny about my brother would only serve to distract from the real problems. Mack might have been a hurtful bastard, and his time in prison had certainly appeared to turn him into a real creep, but I couldn’t believe that any set of circumstances could have turned my brother into an actual threat. More than likely, I figured I’d never even see him again—a sad thought initially, but one I could see myself getting over pretty quickly. Calling upon all the acting prowess I’d acquired as a whore, I plastered a phony smile for Danny and shook my head.
“Not at all,” I replied. “I just got a gift for Jace…” Then, my smile shifting into a sincere grin as I pulled out the bag with the cotton candy in it, I added, “… and a little something for you!”
“Somethin’ for me?” he asked, his eyes gleaming teasingly.
“Yup!” I smiled, pulling out the clear plastic bag of bright pink cotton candy. “Your favorite color even!” I boasted
“Cotton candy? My favorite!” he grinned. “This is the best! Thanks, girlie!”
“I hope this isn’t the best gift you’ve ever received,” I pouted, remembering a similar conversation Jace and I had had back at Canal Days.
“Well, prolly not,” he confessed, sporting a lecherous smirk as he did. “Anyway, shall we go visit yer Prince Charming, Princess?” Danny changed the subject, offering me a teasing wink.
“Don’t even,” I rolled my eyes, fighting not to laugh.
****
“I’ll go find parking,” Danny offered as he pulled up to the entrance of the hospital. Despite his words, however, I felt like he was going to be offering me a bit more time than would normally come from simply parking a motorcycle. Looking back at the mostly-empty parking lot, I wondered why he’d even bothered pulling up front when he could have just parked and been done with it. At that moment, once more seeming to read my thoughts, Danny swatted his hand at me, casting me away. “Off with ya!” he demanded.
And off I went, smiling my thanks back at him.
Feeling like I was floating, I headed through the hospital doors, took a deep breath, and continued on, walking slowly, through the halls. The surroundings blurred, and I was distantly aware that I couldn’t even remember talking to the receptionist in the waiting room or passing through the great divide—what separated us from him—and yet, all of a sudden, I was approaching his door. Despite this—despite how quickly and effortlessly it all seemed to be happening—it didn’t seem quick or effortless enough; every step felt like a slow-motion trudge through cold waters.
And then, just like that, I was reaching for the door handle. Feeling so very, very—
“What do you think? That it’s going to be okay? That you’ll just have some happily ever after with your Crow? You’re dreaming. This is the real world…”
I frowned, my hand stilling just over the door to Jace’s room, as Mack’s words returned to haunt me. I tried to ignore them; I had to ignore them
“Damn you, Mack,” I muttered under my breath. “I will not let you ruin this for me!” I clenched my eyes shut, stopping in the hall and leaning against the wall. I fought to not let the tears fall. I was so close to seeing Jace again.
Then, finally, I forced a solid thought of Fuck you, Mack! And forced myself to turn the knob before anything else in my head could try to stop it.
Everything suddenly felt perfect at the sight of Jace’s forest green eyes on mine.