Page 25

TWENTY-FIVE

Liam

Twenty-two years ago—age sixteen

“What the hell is this?” Lisa growls as she snatches up Abby’s wrist.

I’m sitting at the table when she pulls up Abby’s arm to look at a tattoo Abby seems to have gotten when she skipped school today. Since the service worker informed her that she’d be going back with her father after they get things ironed out with the custody between her mother and father, Abby has chosen to do something in defiance each day.

Yesterday she screamed and chucked her cereal bowl at the window.

Today she got a tattoo.

And every single day she’s come into my room and asked if it’s time for her father to die.

And every single day, I’ve told her it isn’t time yet. She’s grown more antsy, but I need time. Her father, Ted, is nothing like Jonah. He’s an officer who is currently in the limelight on two fronts. One for being right in the middle of tackling a ring of drug dealers and the other for fighting for custody of his child. From the outside he looks like the loving and doting father he claims to be, but the more I’ve watched him, the more I’ve realized that he has an obsession with vulnerable young women. He likes to meet them at the bar, and once they’re drunk enough, he coerces them into his car.

Her mother, on the other hand, is a drug user and alcoholic who is fighting her hardest to keep Abby. The issue is that while Abby wants to stay with her mother and has been quite vocal about it, her mother is being sent to rehab for the third time for a cocaine addiction that rules her life.

And I’m stuck watching her father during my free time.

I was right that the death of Jonah has freed me. I’m finally able to see the people around me and realize that for months, I’d damn near lost my mind. It was bad enough that when I finished my math test earlier today with absolutely no errors and no work shown and handed it in first, the teacher was so confident I cheated that he made me retake it as he watched.

I didn’t even have to reread the questions; I was able to remember the answers I’d slapped down the first time and handed it in even quicker, which made him think I’d memorized the answers from an earlier class. This led to him forcing me to take a different test as the principal watched.

I guess I really had done a good job making myself look like a delinquent these past months. When I pointed out that the teacher had fucked up a problem on the test and did it wrong himself, I’m confident he was prepared to kick me out of his class for good if the principal hadn’t been present.

But don’t they know I have better things to do than stare at math problems all day? I have a whole different problem to solve: how to kill Ted.

“You cannot tell me what I can or can’t do,” Abby snaps as she jerks her arm away.

“I sure can,” Lisa says. “You’re grounded. You’re not leaving your room. No electronics. Nothing until I say so.”

Abby flips her off and rushes up the stairs as Lisa sighs.

“She’s mad about her father,” Dale says.

“Doesn’t mean she can go get a tattoo ! How are we going to explain this? Now we’re going to look like shitty parents!” she complains before whirling on me. “And I got a call from the principal about you.”

“For doing my math test well?”

“That you cheated on.”

“Ah. Yes. After showing two times that I didn’t cheat on it and then retaking a different test, you were called to be told I did cheat on it?” I ask in confusion. “I wouldn’t have wasted my time redoing the test if I knew he was going to lie anyway. Can I go out?”

“Absolutely not. I was just told that you cheated. In what world do you think I’d let you go out?”

“I proved that I hadn’t,” I say. “Do you want me to redo the test in front of you?”

“Don’t talk back to me. Room. Now.”

I clench my jaw as I head up to my room. Lisa will be leaving here shortly and once she’s gone, Dale won’t even notice if I’ve left. So I simply wait for her to leave before I slip out the window and head out to the street.

“Where are you going?” Abby asks from where she’s leaning against a tree. “Are you going to do it tonight?”

“I’m going to watch him,” I say, which seems to ignite her anger.

“You’ve watched him enough. How much fucking longer do you need to watch him for? Are you going to make a career of it?”

“Might.”

She punches me in the shoulder, but it just seems to hurt her hand more than it hurts me. “Why did that hurt? Dammit.”

“You’re supposed to punch people where it hurts them, not you,” I say, and when she tries punching me in the face, I grab her arms and pin them down. “Would patience murder you? You have a few days before you go back to him.”

“You’re going to chicken out.”

“I’m not.”

“You are!”

A car pulls up and the window rolls down to reveal one of Abby’s friends, a girl I don’t remember the name of.

“Why are we picking you up out here?” she asks. “Your foster parents being assholes again?”

“Very much. Hey, Anthony,” Abby says as she waves to the guy driving the car.

“Hey,” he says. “Who’s this?”

“This is Liam. Can we give him a ride?”

“Sure. Where to?”

“No, that’s okay, I’m going to take the bus,” I say.

“Liam, come on, this will be quicker,” Abby insists, but I’m also aware that the moment I get in the car, there are people aware of my existence. They’re aware of where I’m going.

“Sure,” I say. “I was going to that comic book store off Marble Avenue.”

“Comic books? What are you, twelve?” her friend asks, which makes both girls laugh. I’m well aware she said it to try to impress Anthony, who I believe is her boyfriend from the way Abby has talked.

“You could come to the bar with us,” the friend suggests.

“Nah, that’s okay.”

“You’re going to die a virgin with that attitude,” Abby says.

“Sounds delightful,” I retort.

Abby laughs and pushes me into the back seat, climbing in after me. “We’re headed to a friend’s house, but when we’re done we’re going to Spades off Front Street. Meet us there.”

“Pretty sure I don’t have an ID to get in.”

“Tell him you’re my friend; the bouncer will let you in.”

“Hate to know what you did to him to get that favor,” I say.

“Funny. The bouncer is Anthony’s brother. Oh! Christa, you should have seen how pissed Lisa was over the tattoo.”

“I bet. My sister was fired up about it too. All ‘If this is how you’re going to act, I’m going to make you live with Mom and Dad again!’ As if she’d ever actually kick me out of the house. She’s so naggy, though. Does she really think I’m going to become some biologist like she is? Come on. It’s not my fault she’s got a rod up her ass at all times,” Christa says.

“Has to hurt when she shoved it so far up there,” Abby comments and the girls laugh.

When I glance up, I see that Anthony is watching me in the rearview mirror. “You want a tattoo?” he asks.

“Uhhhh, do I want to be grounded for life so I can have some permanent ink pressed into my skin or not be thrown out of Lisa’s house… I mean… it’s a tough choice, but I’ll pass. What would I even put? Bad Motherfucker 4 Life? With a number four, of course. Barbed wire around it if I have the option. Maybe a skull would set it off.”

He laughs. “Fine. But my buddy does some cool tattoos.”

Abby tells me, “You like nerd stuff. I saw some of his Star Wars tattoos when he was working on us. That’s nerdy, right?”

“Ooh,” Christa says. “Get Princess Leia with some massive tits or something.”

“I tried showing him my tits the other day and he looked bored, sooooo,” Abby says, which makes her friend squeal something unintelligible while Anthony nearly chokes.

“Oh my god. What the fuck, Ab? You don’t just brag about that.”

“Why not? He asked if I’d do his homework for him if he touched them. Like he thought I should reward him for touching them!”

“I mean… you were the one flashing me,” I say. “It was clear you wanted something out of it. I haven’t known you for long, Abby, but I do know that you don’t do anything without getting something in return.”

Abby shrugs, not at all ready to deny that.

Anthony parks in front of the comic book store as Christa looks back at me. “Come on. One last chance.”

“Nah, I’m good,” I say.

I get out and head inside where I wander for a bit before I walk out. I grab the nearest bus and ride it about five minutes to the police station, then go into the café across from it and watch out the window with my drink. While doing so, I scroll the latest news on the drug bust Ted is being praised for. He’s proudly putting his face right on display after arresting multiple men who were involved in drug running and trafficking.

Abby’s father comes out not long after, and instead of getting in his car, he walks down the street. I follow him as he heads into the same bar he’s already gone into two times this week. Since they sell food, the age restriction isn’t in place until after ten, so I easily walk right in and get a table where I order a drink and tell the server I’m waiting for friends.

Ted sits at the bar so it doesn’t look like he’s too alone. He doesn’t stand out. He doesn’t make much of a first impression. He seems… so average—like he fits, like he’s supposed to be here—and no one is any the wiser. Is there a way for me to accomplish that? An ability to keep myself from being noticed?

If someone wasn’t watching him like I am, no one would notice the way his eyes roam… it’s like a lion picking out their prey. He seems to have a type that he likes to watch. The younger they look, the better. Petite. Small frame. He just watches them. And then he leaves.

He’s done this every night for about an hour before he goes home to his wife who appears pregnant. He always makes it home by seven when they eat dinner together.

Ted’s watching a new girl tonight. But when she heads back to the bathroom, he trails after her. She has no idea that she’s snagged his attention. She has no idea that she’s become his prey.

She comes out of the bathroom as he passes her and I see him bump into her. He apologizes and goes on his way, but he’s done something I can’t quite see. I toss money for the drink on the table before I follow him as he goes out to the parking lot and heads toward a car that he unlocks. It’s not his car, but he gets into the back seat to wait.

I know if I turn away, something’s going to happen to this girl. I don’t think he’ll kill her. No… he doesn’t seem to kill them. But I’m confident she’s not going to walk away from this unharmed. And he will get away with it again and again. He knows how to hunt. This club has no security cameras. He’s a respectable cop; even if someone reviewed who was here, he would never come up. She’d likely never see his face either.

If I turn away, who knows what will happen to her?

If I get into the car… what then? Brawl him and hope I win? How the hell would I win against an officer who is used to the hunt? I’m over here aware how much I still need to learn to fit in, to disguise myself so no one would ever suspect a thing.

Then again… do I have to dispose of the body? Wouldn’t it be more suspicious if I did? We have an officer who has publicly been shutting down drug-related groups. He’s so cocky that his face is plastered everywhere. People involved in drug trafficking know who he is. Weeks ago, Ted saved five women from forced prostitution, but snooping told me that one of the women was assaulted right before she was saved. It made me question how he ended up there alone ahead of everyone else. But no one else saw it because he is a protector.

He’s out of sight, so it’s not hard for me to go up to the front of her car. I pull out my knife and stab at the tire. It proves significantly harder to slash than I assumed and my hand slams forward, sliding down the knife since the knife guard isn’t wide enough.

I hiss and yank my hand back before I can drip blood on the tire or ground.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The cut doesn’t look too deep, so I wrap it in my shirt before slicing at the tire again. This time, I actually make progress and hear the subtle hissing of the tire.

Quickly, I rush back into the bar, knowing that every second counts. I rinse the blood from my hand and then clean my knife with the cleaning products under the sink. Then I scrub the sink cleaner than it’s probably ever been in its life. When I finish, I wind paper towels around my hand so not a drop of blood can escape.

I’m fucking up. I’m fucking up. I need to reassess this. I need to…

I need to focus. I need to do this and stop fucking up.

I slide my gloves on so it keeps the paper towel in place and then walk back out into the bar where the girl is chatting with some friends. She finishes the food she was eating and gets up to reach for her coat.

I swiftly head out of the door in front of her and see a half-smoked cigarette on the ground that I pick up. Of course I don’t put it in my mouth because I’m not a psychopath, but when she comes out, she simply sees a teenager smoking as she makes her way to her car.

I’m nearly shaking, my entire body is so packed full of energy. I should just shoo her away from the car and wash my hands of it, but I can’t. I tell myself it’s out of fear that he’ll go find someone else to take with him. That the night is long… but a part of me knows it’s the darkness inside of me talking. As she goes for the car, I flick the cigarette and crush it into the ground.

“That your car?” I ask.

“Yeah?” she responds, already wary.

“Your tire’s flat.”

“What? Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck. Fuck. No…” She rushes over to it. “I didn’t even hit anything. At least I don’t think. I don’t know… fuck. Do you know how to change a tire?”

“Uhh… no? Sorry. I can ask if someone in the bar does?”

“Fuck,” she says. “It’s fine. I think my friend does.”

She hurries back inside, and I make myself scarce, giving Ted a chance to leave the car. His plan’s been fucked. If he’s smart, he’ll abort it. He must not have heard the tire deflating, but it really wasn’t as loud as I thought it’d be. I just make sure that the moment he gets out of the car, I’m heading back around the corner.

He doesn’t know whether I saw him get out of the car or not, so he turns his back to me, unidentifiable with his hood up, and starts through an alley back toward the police station.

I need to turn around. I need to go home. I need to fuck off.

I walk after him, unable to look away. Driven forward with the realization that if I don’t kill him, Abby could ruin me…

But is that what makes me step up?

I can’t tell whether he hears me or not, but he sure doesn’t expect me to walk up behind him and drive my knife into him. He sure doesn’t expect how tonight will go. He had everything planned out. I had nothing… and still, he staggers from me, so I take one more swing before it all ends.

For some reason, I find myself at Spades.

“ID?” the bouncer asks as he eyes me, likely immediately spotting that I’m not eighteen, the age set to enter the club.

“I’m a friend of your brother and Abby,” I say.

“Jesus Christ. I swear Anthony’s trying to get me fired,” he grumbles. “Give me your right hand.”

“What for?”

“It’s a stamp. Green means you’re twenty-one, red means you’re not so people can’t be buying you drinks,” he says.

My right hand is currently wrapped in paper towels in my pocket, wound aggravated by stabbing Ted, so I offer him my left.

“You can’t tell your right from left?” he asks.

“Does it matter?” I question as he stares at me. His look tells me it really fucking matters but that he doesn’t get paid enough for this job, so he smashes the red one on my left hand with a dose of irritation before sending me inside.

I step inside as the music roars around me, immediately reminding me why I hate places like this. But I’m on a fucking high. I’m on the biggest high I’ve ever been on. Jonah’s dead and now Ted is too. How can things get any better than this?

I see Abby at a high table, drink in hand with a green stamp on her even though she sure doesn’t look twenty-one. Christa and Anthony stand sandwiched between about six other people, some of whom I recognize as Abby’s friends.

I slide up behind her and grab her with my left hand. She yelps in surprise as I lift her up and swing her around.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Jesus, you scared me, Liam! Why are you so cheery?” She hesitates before whipping around and pressing her lips close to my ear. “Did you do it?”

I look down into her eyes before lowering my mouth to her ear so she can hear me above the music. “You better not ever try to blackmail me again, do you hear? I might not be so nice next time.”

Abby grabs my shirt in her hands, clutching it so tightly her knuckles are turning white. “You did it? Liam, did you do it?”

“Yeah.”

She’s gasping for breath now. “You did it?”

“I did. Calm down, your friends are watching.”

“Oh fuck…” Abby bites her lip and then licks the spot before saying, “Oh fuck” again.

“Can you breathe?” I ask as I realize that she reminds me of myself after I killed Jonah. How it felt like I could finally breathe again.

She nods vigorously. “I can breathe. I really can fucking breathe. Are you sure?”

“Very.”

“Tell me everything later,” she says. “Let’s drink!”

Abby spins around and picks up her drink as I see something cloudy and blue at the bottom. Just as she lifts it to her lips, I take it from her and glance down at it. “Who gave you this drink?”

She looks into the glass and sees what I’ve noticed. “Uh… I don’t know… one of Anthony’s friends… Or maybe Carl’s friend? I don’t know.”

“Which one was it?”

She points and I see the guy at the pool table who is standing next to Carl.

“That was too nice of him,” I say before I carry the drink over to him. “You buy this for Abby?”

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks, giving me a sour look.

“I want you to drink it,” I say.

“What’s going on?” Anthony asks.

The guy who bought Abby the drink shrugs and picks up his pool stick until I grab him by the back of the neck with my uninjured hand.

“Did you drug Abby’s drink?”

“Of course not,” he says with a laugh.

“Then I want you to drink it,” I say as I press it to his lips. “If you didn’t drug it, it’ll be fine, right?”

“I don’t want that fruity shit.”

“But if you did drug it, that means someone gets to do to you what you were going to do to her, right?” I ask. “Go on, now.”

He shoves me, but I’m on a fucking high. I feel like I could tear down the whole goddamn world. There’s no one who could best me and fucking hell, I am going to shove this spiked glass down his throat if it’s the last thing I ever do.

“Fuck off,” he yells as I tip it against his mouth. He chokes on it a second before he swings. Because I’m over here determined that he needs to drink it, I don’t see the punch until it’s slamming into the side of my face. But before anything happens, some guys push him back. They’re getting pissed on Abby’s behalf and I’m disappointed I don’t get the chance to beat him up before Anthony’s brother rushes over to drag the guy out. When I turn back to see what’s happening, Christa’s boyfriend is staring at me.

“Damn, boy. I thought you were just some nerd,” Christa says. “He’s over here protecting your ass like a little guard dog, Abby.”

“Bathroom?” I ask and Christa points.

I head that way, but I don’t get far before I realize I’m being followed. When I look over, I see Anthony stepping into the hallway.

“You need something?” I ask.

“Depends… you willing to give me something?” he responds as he walks down the hallway. I grab him before slamming him against the wall and kissing him. His lips work against mine as I grip him by the throat with my left hand, not prepared to let him go.

I feel like the world is crashing around me as the control I need to take hold of is torn out of me. I feel like I could do anything.

“What the absolute fuck?” Christa growls and Anthony jerks back.

“He kissed me,” Anthony blurts out.

“I did,” I say, and then laugh. “I kissed him.”

I’m on a fucking high.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Christa yells as she dashes forward like she’s prepared to start smacking one of us, but I just keep laughing and I don’t even know why. I catch her wrists, which seems to just piss her off as she screams at me. Anthony tries to pull her back, but Christa smacks at him as another woman rushes into the hallway.

“What the fuck are you doing?” this woman yells.

“Christa, your sister… Oh… I see she found you…” Abby says with a grimace as she turns the corner.

“Margaret Christine Williamson, you are fucking sixteen,” the woman snaps as she grabs Christa’s wrist.

“He fucking kissed my boyfriend!”

“I will call the police; you are nineteen years old. Do not ever look at her again, you hear me?” she snaps at Anthony, clamping her hand even more tightly around Christa’s wrist before she drags her out.

Abby gives me a look like she’s trying to hide whatever noise she’s wanting to make until they’re gone. “Oh. My. God. Liam. What the fuck was that?” she says before she starts laughing. “Liam, did you kiss Anthony? What the fuck, man? That’s Christa’s boyfriend.”

“He stared at me half the night,” I say. “I think I’ve had more than enough fun for the night. I think I’m?—”

“Out.”

Both of us look over as Anthony’s brother eyes us. “Both of you out. Now. I’m getting fucking chewed out by some bitch that I let you and her sister in here. Out.”

Abby just laughs again as she quickly grabs my left hand and drags me out the door. She doesn’t let go even as we walk to the nearest bus stop, and I find it weird and a bit annoying but when I go to pull away, I realize her hand is shaking.

“He really is dead? Are you positive?”

“Yeah.”

She bites her lip. “Like… should we check? To make sure.”

“I don’t think any part of that would be a good idea.”

“Yeah, but you could be wrong.”

“I’m not wrong.”

Her hand tightens.

“Crushing my hand will fix nothing.”

“It might. How sure are you?”

“Quite sure.”

“Fuck,” she says.

“Are you cussing because you’re mad you can’t crush my hand?”

“No, I’m cussing because it feels like a crazy weight has been lifted off my chest. Because it feels like I’m flying high. I feel like I could accomplish anything.”

I pull her around to face me. “But if you ever mention what I did, I will destroy you,” I warn.

“I already promised I wouldn’t,” she says. “Hell, after they find a new placement for me, we might never see each other again.”