Page 7 of A Cursed Heart

Ryan

Anders was at least kind enough to take me home.

Not only that, he stayed silent throughout the short drive across the city, leaving me to my thoughts.

The bodyguard kept looking at me, as if assessing my mental state.

Was he worried I was going to roll out of the car into traffic?

Honestly, if it weren’t for Freya, I’d have been tempted.

My mind was an utter shitshow of a mess! The events of the afternoon played on a loop, tightening the knot of dread in my stomach. I couldn’t see a way out of this.

What the fuck was I going to do?

I knew who Scythe was. Everyone in this city did.

The man had two separate identities. Sloane Salvatore by day in the boardroom and The Scythe at night, lording over the city from his fancy casino.

The version I’d met was certainly Mr. Salvatore.

There was no way his alter-ego would have been so pleasant.

I did not want to meet the other side of him.

Very few survived a meeting with Scythe.

He was so confident in his dominance of the city he just left the bodies of his enemies, or what remained of them, out in the open.

He owned the cops. No one dared to go against him.

Which made my predicament all the more terrifying. If Salvatore wanted to turn me over to the police, then I’d be powerless to stop him. Worse, I’d be going to jail for the rest of my life. There would be no chance of escaping a lengthy prison sentence. What would happen to Freya then?

He left me very little choice. I had to work for him. Between prison and a life with my kid? I’d pick her every time. Whatever he asked me to do, I’d do, just to ensure her safety and a life full of love with me. I would protect her from my mistakes.

I stood on the sidewalk watching the car drive away before I shook my panic off and went inside. My sister would be dropping Freya off in about an hour, so there was time for me to make something for dinner and work out a plan of action.

If Salvatore thought I was just going to lie down and take whatever job he wanted me to do without a fight, then he was in for a rude awakening.

Something he didn’t know about me was the worst of my juvenile record.

No one did. It was gone. Vanished into the ether.

The caution I’d gotten didn’t affect my life but sure piqued his interest. Shame on him he didn’t delve deeper.

Didn’t he wonder why I’d been hacking in the first place?

During my early teens, I’d been bullied relentlessly until one day I snapped.

Never underestimate a skinny kid with a boatload full of rage.

I went to town on that bully with all the fury in my heart powering my fists and feet.

Damn near killed him, and I still didn’t feel bad about it.

There was a moment when I just didn’t want to stop.

By the time he got out of the hospital, me, Mom, and Lydia were getting ready to flee to the other side of the country.

Not before I’d pinned the whole thing on the bully’s older brother, though.

The one with a hard drive full of disgusting things, including images of his younger brother.

People were just gonna assume the bully was going to tell the authorities, and his bro beat him unconscious. At least, that’s how I’d framed it.

Then my name was mentioned when he woke up, and the bully’s parents hid shit in a cover up.

We were in and out of lawyers’ offices for a bit.

Eventually they got me on a lesser assault charge.

Earned myself a hefty amount of community service, which I did when we moved.

The court only agreed to let me do it elsewhere, so I was far away from the kid.

We also paid restitution. Or Mom did, and I paid her back when I got a job fixing computers.

Made sure the bully’s bro went down though. He wasn’t getting away with being a sick fuck on my watch. Hope he enjoyed the long stretch he was doing.

That was probably the first time I’d scared my mom.

She had always known it was me and just how close I really got to just ending him.

Of course she did, she knew everything about me.

Mom made me promise when she told us we were moving that I’d never do anything like that again unless I had no other choice.

When we got to California, she put me into martial arts, thinking I’d have something to channel my anger into and a way of defending myself without getting too dangerous.

It worked for the most part. I filled out a bit, and the kids at my new school were a hell of a lot more chill.

None of them found anything to beef with me about.

For the first time, I had a circle of friends.

The move had been a turning point for me.

It taught me just how much I was willing to do to protect my life and those I loved.

When I was caught for hacking, it was after I cleared my record and for something to do with Lydia’s transcript.

I can’t even remember why I was in the school database in the first place.

A stupid error on the way out got me a note on my file.

A caution and I was expelled from the high school.

Luckily, I had a teacher vouch for me, and I still got into college.

The program was full of misfits like me, and the school had a direct line to agencies like the FBI.

It wasn’t a path I wanted for myself, especially after Freya came along.

All I wanted to do was have a job where I made decent money and could keep my head down, which I finally ended up with.

Until Jasmine’s boyfriend put his hands on my baby girl, I hadn’t even considered doing anything outside of the law again.

I was hopeful social services and the courts would finally see things my way.

My focus was building a solid case for sole custody.

Things just weren’t moving fast enough. They kept listening to Jasmine’s excuses about why Freya was showing signs of abuse and neglect when she was with them.

Her always being covered in bruises was put down to their place being small and Freya clumsy.

When Freya flinched at loud noises or sudden movements, it was because she was having nightmares after seeing a scary show, not that her step-parent was hurting her.

Maybe I shouldn’t have taken the law into my own hands by getting rid of the scumbag, but I would move mountains, burn down cities, to protect my little girl.

So I’d work for Salvatore, though only as a cover. I was going to ruin the man who threatened my peaceful life. He was going to regret threatening me.

From the kitchen, I heard the door open. I knew it was my sister and Freya back from whatever adventure Lydia took my little girl on for this afternoon. As usual, they were perfectly on time. Lydia detested being late and was teaching Freya the same habits.

“Daddy?”

“In the kitchen!” I called back while placing the pasta dish into the oven to brown the cheese topping.

The sauce had a lot of hidden veggies and came from one of those mommy vlogs about child nutrition.

When we were struggling in college, Freya didn’t get this kind of food to eat.

Now I could afford it, I was having to reset her palate and teach her about vegetables.

Freya spared me a glance to check I wasn’t at the stove before she launched herself at me.

“Auntie took me to a museum! We had cake and a milkshake, and she showed me all the old stuff. Daddy, there was dinosaur bones! Auntie got me a dinosaur! Wanna see it?” Freya spoke fast in her excitement.

“Sure thing. Go wash your hands before dinner first, okay?”

I set her down so she could do as I asked. She ran off with a grin on her face. “Was she okay today?”

Lydia sighed. “She cried a couple times, but honestly, she was okay. I don’t think she really gets that her mom is gone, or maybe…?” Lydia trailed off. “Maybe it’s a coping mechanism. It was easy to distract her when she got sad.”

“Yeah, the therapist said Frey has a lot of trauma to unpack when she gets older and has more perspective. They aren’t too worried about her, though. Says she’s resilient.”

“That’s because she has you,” my sister said kindly. She rubbed my back soothingly. “How was the service?”

I chuckled bitterly. “Short. Sad. There were a few people from college… I just didn’t realize how lonely Jasmine was outside of having Freya. She barely had any friends, and none of her boyfriend’s family turned up.”

“They still blaming her for his death?”

As usual, I felt that familiar prickle of guilt. Jasmine taking the heat for that prick’s death made me feel like shit.

“Of course. No chance it was him bringing the drugs in that killed her. He was an innocent baby,” I muttered sarcastically.

We didn’t get to talk about it after that. Freya ran to the table with a stuffed toy in hand. “Look, Daddy!” She brandished the raptor at me. “Her name is Cuddles!”

“Aw, Cuddles is very cute. Why don’t you give her a seat so she doesn’t get messy at dinner?”

We settled down to eat soon after. My sister didn’t ask anything else about the funeral, concentrating on filling in the gaps from Freya’s chatter about her day.

I was grateful my sister was still in school, only working weekends, and could take the afternoon to look after my daughter whenever I needed her.

She was due to graduate soon, so they wouldn’t be able to have their trips as often.

Lydia helped me get Freya off to bed. She even took over reading the bedtime story for me, giving me time to think my way out of the situation I was in.

Freya made her kiss Cuddles several times before she escaped the bedroom, looking exhausted.

Freya slept with a nightlight and a white noise machine recommended by her therapist, and I could hear the machine from the hall.

“Beach!” Freya demanded playfully.

“Not rain?”

“No. I want the ocean.”

“Okay, bug. You and Cuddles sleep tight, okay?”

“Are you going home now?” Freya sounded on the brink of sleep. She was fighting it, though.

“Maybe in a little while. Be good for your dad, alright? I love you.”

“Love you, Aunt Lydia.”

I went to the kitchen to make Lydia some tea. She deserved it after the bedtime routine. Freya was a good kid, just challenging sometimes.

“Okay, spill it,” Lydia said, her voice firm. She stood leaning in the doorway, her arms folded.

“There’s noth—”

“Stop, okay. This is me. I’m twenty-two, not twelve. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Handing her the mug of tea, I brushed by her to take a seat on the sofa. Lydia took the armchair, setting her tea on the coffee table and sitting back to glare at me.

It took me a few minutes to decide if I was going to confess everything.

Would I lose my sister if I told her the truth?

Would she hate me? Jasmine’s death was hard on her.

Actually, that wasn’t quite true. Jasmine’s slip into addiction was what changed their relationship.

Lydia and Jasmine stayed friends when we broke up, often helping with the co-parenting communication when things were still quite raw for us both.

Seeing her friend choose drugs really damaged their friendship.

My sister had looked up to my ex-wife almost like a big sister, they’d been that close.

Jasmine’s death had opened her eyes to the guilt she carried over not being there for Jasmine.

Eventually, I sighed. I scrubbed my hands over my face and tugged on my hair, stress eating at me. Alright, I was doing this. I needed someone in my corner, I just hoped it would be my sister.

“I fucked up, Liddy.”

She tensed. “What happened?”

“You’re going to hate me.” I was trembling the fear was getting to me so badly.

“I could never hate you. Never. You’re my big brother. The best guy in the world.”

“Liddy, don’t—”

“You are, Ryan. Ever since we were little, you’ve looked after me. Now you’re raising that little girl alone.” She sat forward, almost reaching for me. I didn’t reach back.

“Yeah, and that’s my fault.” My voice sounded flat.

“How can you say that?” Lydia frowned.

“Because I’m the reason she’s dead,” I admitted, my voice hard. It hurt to admit the words out loud.

“How? How could you have—That doesn’t make sense, Ryan. What the fuck?”

Looking at Lydia, I could see her anguish. “I made sure there was tainted fentanyl in her place. It was supposed to be for her boyfriend.”

Lydia sat back, stunned. “Explain.”

So I did. I told her what I’d seen. Some of it she knew. I kept some things from her, which made her angry at me. “You should have asked me to help! I’d have gone over there, been a witness, anything!”

“They would never have believed you, Lydia. With you being my sister, they wouldn’t have believed a word you said. Her boyfriend was smart about it, he wouldn’t have done shit with you there.”

“Okay, maybe. So you got the drugs, and what?”

“After I got them, I left them hidden in her house. She said she was off them… I hoped she wasn’t lying, but…” A sob escaped. The guilt was utterly crushing. “I killed her.”

Lydia knelt beside me, her hand on my thigh. Compassion filled her expression. “It was an accident, Ryan. You didn’t know she was still using.”

“Of course she was. Deep down I knew it, and I still left those drugs there. I killed her.” Tears were running down my cheeks. If I could’ve taken it all back, I would have.

“No. The drugs did. If it hadn’t been those, it would have been another batch or one of the guys she slept with for money.

Jasmine was…” Lydia was crying, too. “Jasmine was on a bad path, Ryan. I don’t think she had it in her to get better.

She didn’t think she had a problem and, worse still, she was letting Freya get hurt because she loved drugs more. ”

“That’s not true—” I defended.

“Her addiction was winning. We’d already lost her when she protected her boyfriend instead of her kid.”

“Still, I shouldn’t—”

“It was an accident, Ryan.”

“I still killed someone, Liddy. Jasmine might have been an accident, but Eric wasn’t.” I hated using that scumbag’s name.

Lydia’s tears had slowed. Her face hardened. “You were protecting Freya. You did the right thing.” She went back to her seat, and we lapsed into silence. “Is that what’s been bothering you today?”

“No. It gets worse.” She waited for me to explain. “Someone knows what I did.”