Page 23 of Capitol Matters (Marionette #2)
It was dark and starting to rain by the time I skulked out of the Bitters’ End, painfully sober and hours late to pick Donovan up from Lock n’ Roll. I’d turned my phone off sometime between the acid bath breakdown and when I heaved myself into the Bronco feeling as empty as if someone had scooped my insides out with a spoon. My brother could call a cab if he was desperate enough. He’d proven himself more than able to do that.
I arrived at Lock n’ Roll and almost pulled past where Donovan sat outside the front office. He’d taken shelter under an awning but was soggy with his jeans soaked up the legs and his dark hair plastered to his face. At this hour, the storage facility’s gates were closed and locked, and the small building behind my brother showed nothing but darkness through its windows.
Judging from Donovan’s stiff posture as he hauled himself to standing, he was not happy about my delay. I braced myself for a tongue-lashing as he threw open the passenger door and squinted in at me.
“What happened to you?” he asked.
Was it that obvious?
I patted the empty passenger seat. “Get in. I wanna go home.”
He obeyed, moving slowly while watching me with unmasked confusion. Once he was settled in the car, he turned to peer into the hatch.
“Where’s the vic?” he asked, sounding so much like a try-hard from a procedural cop drama that I wanted to laugh. But the news I had to deliver was anything but humorous.
“She didn’t make it,” I said.
The Bronco lurched into reverse, then rolled out into the street.
Distant thunder rumbled as businesses blurred by, echoing the closed and boarded-up theme of Main Street. Grimm chose this storage facility because of its proximity to our motel home—though the cheeky name was a plus. I could make it back to Lazy Daze and into my bed in ten minutes or less, and I could barely wait that long.
A mile passed before Donovan asked, “What about her body?”.
“I took care of it.”
He hummed a somber sound.
I mentally cranked my window down and retrieved a loose cigarette from the center console. While my hands were busy lighting it, I turned the next corner with a knee and a bit of telekinetic guidance .
Smoke settled in my chest, soothing me to silence. Meanwhile, Donovan drummed his fingers on the window ledge as darkened buildings buzzed by.
“Hey, Fitch?”
My head tipped toward him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. Rainwater dripped down his face, and he tugged up his shirt collar to wipe it away.
“For what?” I took a drag off the cigarette.
Donovan slumped, tucking his chin into his chest and reducing his voice to a mutter. “I think you kinda saved me. From a lot of things.”
I gave him a side-eye as we climbed the hill leading to the Lazy Daze Motel.
“Now that you’re not around—and I know I keep saying this—things are different.” He sighed. “I thought it would be fun.”
I snorted.
“I just wanted to be like you guys,” he continued. “Now, I’m not sure I want that anymore.”
My attention dropped to his hand, tattooed with the same thorny skull I sported. It was a mark people had, and would, kill for. I’d seen that during my time in prison, where I’d been as powerless as my brother was every day. At least in Thorngate, the scales were balanced. The real world was not so fair.
“I never wanted to keep anything from you, Donnie,” I said softly. “Nothing good, anyway.”
We pulled into the Lazy Daze lot. Its red and white edifice was lit by warm yellow lights. The retro vibe might have been cool if it was intentional rather than just outdated and in disrepair after decades of substandard maintenance.
As much as I wanted to be tucked in my bed, clinging bits of memory forced me to stay put. This hadn’t always been a safe place or a happy one. In fact, I wasn’t sure it ever had.
Eleven years earlier
The beep of the keycard caused me to stir, but I didn’t fully rouse until a hand clamped over my mouth.
Fingers pressed to my lips smothered a shout, and I sucked sharp breaths through my nose as a body slid under the covers against my back. My eyes opened to the sight of Donovan in the bed across from mine. The sheets draped over him rose and fell with his soft snores.
As the intruder curved his body around me, I recognized the musky smell of Avery’s cologne. His hand stayed tight across my face as a whisper rushed past my ear.
“Hope you don’t mind, I let myself in.”
Fear held me stiff as Avery wormed his other arm under my shoulder. It came up in front of me, holding a knife that glinted steely and sharp in the near-absent light. I froze—didn’t even breathe—as the blade angled toward my throat. My head tipped back, straining away from the weapon, but I only succeeded in pressing deeper into the other man’s embrace.
His teeth grazed my earlobe in a pinching nip. “You know about the quiet game?”
When I didn’t respond, he poked the dagger into my Adam’s apple and asked again.
“Do you?”
My stifled “Mmhmm” proved answer enough.
“Good,” Avery replied. “Because your baby brother’s sacked out over there, and it’d be a shame to wake him.”
My hands knotted in the covers as sweat began to bead on my skin.
Another prick of the knife drove a grunt of affirmation from me.
“Good boy,” Avery cooed.
My jaw clenched as I focused on Donovan’s form, steeped in blissful sleep.
“Relax…” The word dragged out in what should have been a soothing voice, but it didn’t keep my heart from thrashing inside my chest or loosen muscles knotted so tight I was shaking.
Avery kissed my cheek, and the dagger disappeared, freeing his hand to tug at the waistband of my pajama pants.
Instinctively, I jerked away, but Avery gathered me back up, still gripping my face.
“If you wake him up, I’ll shut him up,” the conjurer hissed. “Got it?”
Slouched in the driver’s seat, I draped one arm across my chest and stared at the neon sign above the motel office door flashing NO VACANCY.
“You ever think about moving out of this dump?” I mused.
Donovan swiveled toward me. “And go where?”
I shrugged.
“The whole gang lives here.” He motioned to the low-slung building. “I don’t think Grimm would like it if we left.”
It would be the nearest thing to an act of treason, and I rather liked the sound of that.
“You wanna be like me?” I cracked a weary smile. “Pissing off Grimm is a great place to start.”
He shook his head, his hair swinging in stringy clumps. “I just said I don’t want to be like you. No offense.”
“None taken. But if I did find us somewhere nice, or at least nicer than this—” which was a low bar—“would you come with me?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” He squirmed at the thought, but my smile remained steady, wearing him down until he agreed, “Probably, yeah.”
I bobbed my head. “Good.”
Puffing on the cigarette, I used my last reserves of energy to exit the car. Donovan did the same, and both of us were immediately caught in the downpour.
As the rain dampened everything, I took the chance to slick back the long top of my undercut. Water coursed down my face, washing away residual salt from too many tears. It soaked rapidly through my shirt, sticking it to my skin .
Donovan stood across the hood of the Bronco, getting drenched along with me. “You know, you’re a good brother,” he said.
I looked over at him. “Fuck, are we about to die or something?” A nervous laugh eased out. “What brought that on?”
He raised his shoulders. “I always think it. Figured I should say it.”
Blowing out a breath knocked water droplets off my lip. “I took your car and left you stranded half the day. You had to wait in the rain.” I held out a hand in reference, letting water pool in my palm. “This is when you choose to tell me that?”
“I had lots of time to think.”
Funny because time to think was my worst enemy. I never came away from it giving compliments, that was for damn sure.
“You’re a weird kid, Donnie.”
We stood a moment more, my brain too taxed to think beyond wishing I could have stayed at Nash’s. But Donovan needed me here; needed me around so things wouldn’t be so different. I couldn’t promise fun, but I could keep him safe. No more leaving that job to Grimm. I knew better than anyone that he was shit at it.
“Can we go in?” Donovan finally asked. “I didn’t really want a shower.”
Huffing another laugh, I rounded the car to him and threw my arm around his shoulders. “You’re a good brother, too.” I gave him a squeeze. “Better than I deserve.”