Matthew

Author’s Note: I have an unhealthy obsession with pet/nicknames. You’ve been warned. Enjoy!

 

 

Leah and I settled into a regiment of minding our own business almost immediately. She read her books, worked on her vocabulary, and I fiddled with my computer until my eyes tingled. We barely spoke the whole day, but she extended the favor of helping keep my duties to a minimum by making lunch and dinner. Being the negligent ‘grown up’ I was, I let her, but for once I attempted responsibility by watching over her.

Light waves of rain came and went, giving me a valid reason to remain indoors the entirety of the day.

Sometime after dinner, my cell phone began to buzz softly on the counter. I gathered up the dishes, giving Leah silent permission to go back to her studies as I headed into the kitchen. Snatching up my phone, I tapped light into the screen and lifted the device to my ear. “Hello?”

“Matty!” Ashley screamed into my ear. I winced, distancing the speaker a bit as I disposed of the dirty plates inside the sink.

“Hey Ashley…”

“I heard you were sick,” she huffed, seeming sour that I hadn’t informed her of the supposedly important information personally. “Are you okay? Is that why you left so fast last night? I can bring some soup over for you after work. Is it the flu? How’s your head? You don’t have any stomach aches, do you?”

I waited patiently for her to finish her rant before even attempting to answer. “I’m fine,” I stated, throwing a glance back towards the living room. “I’m not sick, I just need to take care of a friend’s kid while… while he’s out of town. I can’t exactly leave her alone all day so I called in sick.”

“Oh.”

“But I don’t know how long I’ll be out, so I was thinking of asking for my vacation time,” I mused, keeping the phone pressed against my ear with the aid of one shoulder while my hands scrubbed leftovers off the surface of a ceramic plate. “What do you think?”

“Yeah, I could tell Mr. Moreau for you. But why didn’t you just say so in the first place?”

Because it hadn’t been my decision and apparently Elena hadn’t thought long-term; hell, for all I knew they planned on returning the next day. Though I doubted it. “Didn’t think of it,” I replied lamely.

“I can’t believe you’re babysitting,” she laughed quietly on the other end of the line.

“Shut up,” I paused, lowering my volume drastically so Leah couldn’t hear. “It’s not exactly voluntary. Plus, she’s not that bad.”

“How are you keeping her entertained?”

“I’m not,” I stated matter-of-factly. “She’s just reading her books.”

“You expect a little kid to be amused with books all day?” she asked skeptically, clearly holding knowledge I otherwise lacked. That didn’t sound like a bad plan to me, after all. “Hey, why not bring her into work? No one will mind helping you look after her.”

“As lacking as I may be in the delicate art of taking care of children, even I know it’s not appropriate to bring a little girl to a pub where old French men like to smoke and drink all day,” I grumbled. As Ashley released a thoughtful hum, I turned the water off and dried my hands off on my jeans. She went quiet for a bit, but soon I heard soft murmurs, like she was talking to someone else.

“Hey, how about we go to the Fair tomorrow?”

“The what?”

“It’s a traveling Funfair. You know, stalls where you can win stuffed animals and little rides? It’s perfect for kids. She’ll love it!”

“I don’t know,” I paused, biting into my lower lip as I lingered in the entryway of the kitchen to peer down at the little blonde. “I don’t exactly feel comfortable taking her anywhere without her parents.”

“So you’re going to keep the poor thing locked up in your apartment for who knows how long? Come off it. It’ll be fun. We can invite the others and make it a group outing. You know, to keep her entertained so you won’t have to.” I could already picture her grinning at my weakness.

“Maybe…” I mumbled.

“Oh stop worrying. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Uh, she could fall and crack her head open?” I said in all seriousness. From behind my coffee table, Leah sat up a little straighter, turning to frown at me over a shoulder. “Not you,” I lied to the kid. “Someone else.”

“Hahaha,” Ashley was laughing into my ear. “When did you become such a mother hen?”

“Bite me,” I sighed underhandedly. As the big blue eyes continued to stare at me, I tucked my lower lip into my mouth and resumed to anxiously chew on the flesh. “Hey Leah,” I began, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “Do you want to go to the fair, or something?”

The little vermin shrugged, like she couldn’t care less, but I noticed a small hint of excitement stretch her lips back into the beginnings of an explosive smile before she turned her head away. With my answer right in front of me, I sighed in defeat to the girl still laughing at me on the phone.

“What time tomorrow?”

“Yes!” my friend cheered happily. “I can come pick you up in the morning? Maybe around ten or eleven?”

“Sure,” I replied. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye!”

Not five minutes after I hung up, the phone vibrated again, this time from an unknown number. I hesitated before answering, but to my relief a familiar voice greeted me. She asked for Leah and I easily passed the phone along, letting the two talk. The kid mentioned ponies, rocks, and dresses, none of which made cognitive sense without hearing the other side of the conversation. Still, I listened, and waited.

After saying goodnight to Elena, Leah went off to bed. I was eager to ask the two about their progress, but I found no one on the line when the phone returned to my hands. Instead of cursing the duo, I fixed myself a spot on the couch and welcomed sleep with open arms. I didn’t have anything to complain about.

Our day had been unusually bland, but at least nothing had gone wrong.

The next morning, I awoke to a light drizzle outside. It wasn’t raining as hard as expected, but one glance outside to the muddy roads let me know that the storm had come during the night. As I headed into the kitchen to prepare a half-assed breakfast, my phone shook with an incoming call.

“Hello?” I yawned, taking a moment to stretch as I leveled the phone with my shoulder.

“Hey Matty,” Ashley huffed, clearly irritated. “My car’s stuck in the mud, so I was going to call one of the boys to pick me up. I might be a little late… I just wanted to let you know.”

“Ah, it’s okay,” I said, throwing another glance back at the window. “The roads are pretty muddy here too, so don’t bother.”

“Oh-no-way, are you cancelling on me? It’s not supposed to rain the rest of the day. It’ll be cloudy but it’s always cloudy! You can’t back out now! And I was all excited about the funfair!”

“Calm down, I’m not cancelling,” I sighed, though it was technically a lie; I had seriously considered it. I still wasn’t a big fan of wet surroundings. “But we’ll take the bus, so you don’t need to make Vincent or Rick drive all the way here. Where is the fair again?”

Relieved that I wouldn’t foil her plans, Ashley happily spewed some directions that I jotted down on a piece of paper before hanging up. In all honesty, I would have rather skipped the whole thing—but the moment Leah came bounding out, already dressed for the day, I considered myself doomed. She was covered by a bright red coat, with the hem of a frilly dress peeking out just below her knees; I could ignore the bows in her hair and the obscenely loud color of her knee-socks, but the fact that every box of her checkered galoshes held a tiny heart did not help tone down the outfit in any way. Where did she think she was going? Disneyland?

“Excited much?” I mumbled to myself.

“Good morning,” she said happily, prancing up to the table where I set down a plate of plain toast.

“Sure it is,” I said offhandedly.

“You'll be cold if you wear that,” she gasped with audible concern.

“What? I haven’t gotten dressed yet. It’s barely—“ I stopped short of reciting the time, realizing that Leah must have been up for a while if she was already fully dressed. Damn, the kid was really looking forward to this. “I’ll go get ready…” I ended begrudgingly.

I drifted off into my bedroom, changing into warmer clothes and fresh underwear. I planned on grabbing a bite to eat when I re-emerged, but when I found Leah quietly standing by the door my appetite dropped dead. Her eyes stared, unblinking, rounded by anticipation of a promised day of fun. It was clear that the longer I delayed our departure, the more anxious she’d become, and I was losing my immunity to the rascal’s blatant innocence. I wanted to keep it thriving.

“You ready?” I hummed, taking a moment to grab my keys and wallet before joining her by the door. She nodded eagerly, bringing a smile to my lips as I scooped up her smaller hand. “Let’s get going then.”

We sloshed our way through the muddy road, up to the bus stop, where once our ride arrived and I reached into my pocket to fetch our fares, I realized that I’d misplaced my token keychain at home. “Wait, I—“

Leah darted into the vehicle before I had a chance to stop her, baring more of her eagerness now that we were truly on our way. She freely demonstrated her enthusiasm, no longer threatened by the danger of disappointment. I grinned at the emotion I could easily sympathize with, and thanking the driver, slipped to the back of the bus to join her.

It took about an hour to get there, with a five-minute walk from the bus station to the line just outside of the fair. Leah practically skipped the whole way. Despite the risk of rain, many families had shown up to partake in the funfair’s events: Mothers, fathers, sons and daughters, all bustling up in hymns of French to buy their tickets. Careful not to lose the little German in the crowd, I secured her hand in mine after paying and led her inside. With my other hand, I sent a text to Ashley as inquiry for her location. She sent one back with obscure directions to a stall selling fried avocado bites. Something told me I was in for a day of unhealthy food.

“Matty!” Ashley squealed the moment she saw me. With her bright pink beanie and even brighter yellow raincoat, I didn’t know why I hadn’t spotted her earlier. “Yay, you’re here!”

“Hey, Ashley. This is Leah. Leah, say hello to Ashley,” I prompted, offering a small squeeze to the hand caught within my own as the princess continued to smile. Her eyes were filled with wonder, amazement, holding the innocence a child her age was supposed to have. Maybe this fair thing wasn’t a bad idea after all.

“Hello Ashley,” she said politely.

“Hello sweetie,” my friend chirped, seeming somehow younger than my little German solely based on her mannerism. “You ready for a fun day?”

Leah happily nodded.

“Where are Rick and Vincent?” I asked, peering over her shoulder.

“Oh, the boys aren’t here yet. But I came with—Oliver!” Ashley called excitedly, raising a hand to wave at an entity behind me.

When I turned, so did my world; reality shattered into pieces and broke off into individual shards, shoving an ice pick through my interior structure that rooted me to the spot. The air that my lungs clamped onto caused my throat to swell, and popped in bursts against my ears, creating clusters of white in my vision that threatened to destroy the details of my surroundings. Oh god.

That face. I remembered that face.

He swept down the moment he was within reach, wrapping both arms around Leah’s little form and ripping her away from me. My brain instantly shook off the chains of fear, of terror, overloading with commands and information that my body couldn’t immediately follow. No, I wanted to say. Don’t touch her.

But he did just that, showing some sort of affection I didn’t think possible for a monster of his standard. One arm curled beneath her bottom, keeping her elevated against his torso as he used the other hand to gently touch her face. Leah’s discomfort was not only visible, but also tangible. She turned to look back at me, confused and yet able to sense my tension. On the other hand, Ashley was none the wiser.

“Isn’t he great?” she giggled, leaning toward me. “He loves kids too. That’s always a plus, right?”

“Hi,” he said, his voice oddly stable, nowhere near the quivering coward that had once begged me not to shoot. “It’s really nice to finally meet you, Ashley talks about you all the time. I’m Oliver.”

“No you’re not,” I finally exhaled, my words escaping in a blur of breath that didn’t seem comprehensible.

“Hey Ash, can you get us some cotton candy or popcorn?” he said before Ashley could question me, keeping that calm smile on his face. “I have some cash in my back pocket.”

“Oh sure,” she squeaked, brushing past me to dip her dainty fingers into his pocket and fish out a twenty. “I’ll be right back. You guys get acquainted, ‘cause when I get back we’re hitting the rides!”

“Ashl—“ I gasped.

“Let her go,” he growled, stepping forward to block my path. “She’s somewhat grown on me during the last week and I’d rather not involve her. Now if you feel like forcing me to change my mind, then go ahead and make a scene.”

I staggered back, my eyes darting from his face, to Leah, to Ashley’s head as her pink hat disappeared behind a swooning couple. “What—“ I began only to have him cut me off a second time.

“There’ll be time for questions later. Right now, we’re going to get out of here before your friend comes back. You have two options, and only two. First, you quietly follow me and little Leah here,” he paused, giving a small nudge to the child still in his arms, “To the van waiting for us outside. Or you do something stupid that you will regret and I end up taking unnecessary measures. Now, which one is it going to be, kid?”

My lips parted on instinct, holding the will to chew him out but by no means possessing the courage to face the consequences. Regardless, with my self-preservation having withered out completely over the years I knew I would still risk making an ass of myself—it was the colorless, terrified expression of the little German that prompted me to shut my mouth. Her eyes were glazed over with building moisture, her little hands balled into fists and her lower lip curled up in the beginnings of a pout. I instantly reached both arms out to her, finally regaining the decency of mind to try to retrieve my charge.

“Ah, ah,” he tsked, taking a brisk step back that forced him to bump into a passing mother and child. He offered them an obligatory, hushed apology before fixing his glare onto me. “I’m going to assume, for Leah’s sake, that you choose option one. That’s great, you’ve made the right choice. Now let’s go.”

His threat didn’t faze me. I reached for her again, stepping around the man’s body to grab at her waist and reclaim her; but the moment her little hands extended out for me so did the barrel of a gun, ripped free from a waistband and held beneath the frills of Leah’s dress. She looked almost betrayed when I swayed back, choosing to step out of her reach instead of into it. But I couldn’t risk it. I already knew he was capable of pulling the trigger.

“Don’t test me,” he hissed.

“Goomba?” the little princess gasped, breaking my heart. She wiggled and bucked, trying to escape the man she had correctly labeled as ‘bad’. God help me, I had to risk it. I couldn’t abandon her. I reached for her again, and this time her captor allowed the transition.

“Fine,” he sighed, glancing back towards the popcorn vendor before stepping in closer to me. “I didn’t want to carry the little fucker anyway. Now get going before I really lose my patience.”

With the warmth of Leah’s arms wrapped around my neck, her face hidden against my shoulder and her breath matching the beat of my heart, I began to walk. It occurred me to make a run for it, but the proximity of other fair-goers, young and old alike, hindered my sense of judgment. I would have used the crowd to our advantage if he hadn’t already clamped a hand on my shoulder for leverage. So I only hugged Leah as tight as humanly possible while Roger herded us out of the fair grounds.

What followed was anything but pleasant.

Leah burst into tears halfway into the parking lot. Roger started cussing. My phone buzzed audibly in my back pocket and he moved his hand off my shoulder to fetch it. The van supposedly waiting for us was nowhere in sight, but two men leaning on a nearby 1990 Camry began walking towards us. With Roger’s grip no longer on me, I risked it. I ran. They ran. Roger watched us run. Leah sobbed against my shoulder. My feet rounded a car and one of the men dove across the hood to catch up. The force of his body slamming into my back weakened the resolve in my arms, uncrowning my balance; I could either drop Leah and run, or double over to protect her. My decision was impulsive.

I collapsed behind a green vehicle, hugging the little blonde head against my chest with building awareness of her importance. I had to protect her. I had to. From above, something sharp and thin stabbed into the riverbank of my bloodstream. My muscles tensed in protest but my brain instantly grew sluggish. I hugged the kid in my arms tighter. Darkness crawled over the marquee of my vision.

Leah continued to cry.

 

 

Crack, crack. Crack. Crack.

I counted seven cracks before the sound irritated me enough to promote consciousness. I tried to rein myself back in, using palpable exertion to chase sleep away and regain strength in my eyelids. The process didn’t prove easy. I forced both open after an extensive amount of effort, following the hollow shadow of my lashes up towards the ceiling to a rectangular outline of light. Crack. My eyes shot down to a man standing near me, cracking his knuckles in the most annoying manner imaginable. Crack.

“Can you fucking stop that?” I croaked.

A bearded face tilted towards me, green eyes skimming my expression with limited interest. He scoffed, giving one last crack to his index finger before turning to head towards the doorway. Doorway? Where was I? I followed the descent of the stranger down some stairs, where the light disappeared with the click of a door and darkness shrouded me.

Holy shit.

Roger? How did he find me? How did he know about Ashley? How did he become Oliver? I tried to think back to the day my friend had first mentioned her new beau, but I couldn’t think that far back without my thoughts hiccupping on the image of Leah. Little Leah. Where was she now?

My muscles groaned in protest when I tried to stand, the weight of their mass resembling ancient rocks from a landslide. When I heard a mournful sound, I didn’t realize it came from my own lips until the empty room echoed it back to me. The right side of my body didn’t feel like it fit correctly with the rest of the puzzle. Something hurt. Something hurt a lot. Another groan escaped me, much sharper, faster than the last. I began to pant with building panic. I had no idea where the pain came from, and the unknown terrified me.

Light illuminated the staircase again. I pressed my lips tightly together to muffle the next anguished sound crawling up my throat, but it managed to escape in the form of a loud cough. More light came, this time filling the room and allowing me the displeasure of seeing myself with a downward tilt of my head. My arms and legs were strapped to an old barber’s chair, locking me into place. The color red distracted me before I could freak out too much about the bondage, where blood delicately coated my right hand. I noticed a strange dip in the midsection of my palm, but from my angled perspective the wounds failed to be safely distinguishable. It hurt. It hurt. Fuck, was it supposed to hurt that much?

“This is him?” an unfamiliar voice came.

I didn’t look away from my hand, still intent on understanding the godforsaken pain while fighting the yearning to move away from it. There was something there, a tension that matched the binds on my arm but stung much more. My fingers twitched involuntarily and a new river of blood ran down the curve of my thumb, pooling on the handle supporting the weight of my wrist.

“What did you do to his hand?” the same person from before questioned, sounding more curious than interested.

“Just a little payback,” Roger responded. The familiarity of his voice finally brought my gaze up, to the previously empty room now filled with strangers.

The man closest to me grinned when he caught my gaze, a gleam of entertainment lighting up the crease on his forehead. Distinct bone structure jarred me; the memorable curve of his cheeks and sharp eyes reminded me of a more stoic face that would never smile at me like that. His shortly cropped hair lacked pigment just like his cousin, but held more of a reddish tint than brown. What should have been grey tipped into the blue scale, giving more life to the complexion that still seemed inhumanely pale. The resemblance was uncanny.

I skipped over the prerequisite of asking for his identity. I didn’t care what he wanted from me and I was too afraid to ask about Leah: there was nothing I could currently do for her, and added interest would offer an easy way to torture me. Or her. Michael had taught me that. So I settled for a curt but to-the-point, “What?”

Carter laughed, really laughed, drawing uncomfortable looks from his henchmen as I shifted quietly in my chair.  The stinging in my hand grew exponentially with my brain now hyper aware of the pinpointed location of pain, and there was no way of ignoring it. But it gave me something to focus on besides the horrors that awaited me. If Michael’s actions said anything about his employer’s tactics, I considered myself royally screwed. There was no way in hell I could survive another round of that.

“You’re Asher’s fuck-buddy?” Carter spoke again. “Talk about robbing the cradle. Never knew he liked them young.”

“Can we get to the point?” I growled, rerouting my physical agony into anger that rang free through my voice.

“You’ve got a set of balls on you,” he remarked with mild amusement. “Or is it that you don’t realize the severity of the situation you’re currently in?”



“If I pretend like I’m interested, will you tell me?” I didn’t even know why I was still alive.

“Well, aren’t you just a ray of sunshine,” he chuckled.

“Ah, so am I here to brighten up your day?”

He laughed again, but this time he took a few steps to close the distance between us. Leaning forward, the tall form bent low enough to comfortably rest one hand on the chair—and by comfortable, I mean solely for him. The asshole flattened his palm against the back of my knuckles and pushed. The pain in my hand magnified, spiking up my arm in a tremor that unhinged my jaw with a cry of misery. I bucked against the chair, throwing my skull back as uncontrolled tears overflowed my vision.

“As amusing as this is, I don't have time for it. Now where is Asher?” he hissed, all playfulness in his voice gone.

It hurt. I hurt. Fuck. Fuck. “I DON’T KNOW!” I screamed.

Carter seemed to believe me, though for the life of me I didn’t know why. He retracted, removing his weight from my arm as my hand twitched with throbbing, liquid grief. I tilted my head away, trying to swallow back the sobs that leaked in soft coughs from my throat. No, I wasn’t going to cry for the demons fishing for my soul.

“Roger here tells me you two used to be pretty close,” he commented.

“You got the wrong guy,” I instantly grunted, finding an annoying veil of déjà vu falling over me.

“Hah!” Roger guffawed theatrically from the back of the room, once again winning my attention. I glanced up in time to see him move closer, limping forward to stand beside his boss. Limping? Ah, the limp that I gave him. Torture of my right hand suddenly made sense, in a sick, twisted sort of way. This was payback? Because I’d shot him with this hand, he saw fit to mutilate it? The fucker had already tried to kill me. I winced when whatever ailed my limb scraped against my flesh, failing to move naturally as my fingers twitched again.

“My friend seems quite positive that we have the right man,” Carter said.

“That’s because he’s an idiot,” I rasped, my voice strained beneath the clench of my jaws. My hand was starting to go numb, and I found that if I didn’t move my arm then I could successfully avoid spikes of pain. “Got the wrong guy,” I insisted.

“Alright. Let’s pretend you don’t know where Asher is. No matter, I don’t need to know his location. I merely need him to come to mine. So, I have a proposition for you, Sunshine,” he paused for dramatic effect, leaning forward again to hover his palm over my bloody nub. “You’re going to draw him out for me.”

I tensed beneath the threat of his hand, watching it with morbid fascination. The initial fear of the unknown had faded, starting me down that path of numbness that would eventually lock me into a world of my own. I already knew I wouldn’t recover from this. They were going to torture me for information I didn’t have, results I couldn’t give them, and even if I wanted to I could never offer the answers they sought. My future seemed bleak.

“How do you expect me to do that?” I tried.

“Simple,” he said, suddenly breaking out into a rapacious smile. “You call him, tell him to show up or I kill you.”

“Brilliant plan,” I snorted, beginning to laugh despite myself. “Except one tiny problem.” My tongue darted out to nervously flick across my lips, wetting the dried surface with insufficient moisture. “You’d be doing him a favor. He wants nothing to do with me. He’d rather see me dead than lift a finger to help me. And that,” I paused, migrating my glare onto Roger’s face, “Is why your man is an idiot.”

“Oh?” Carter whispered, standing upright to follow my glare back toward his lackey.

“He’s lying,” the double-crosser said quickly. “I’m telling you Carter, he’s a much faster route than Alrick or the little brat. I saw how Asher protected him, okay? Michael and I both saw it.”

“Michael? You mean the guy you murdered?” I hissed aggressively.

Roger flinched, Carter laughed, and my mind teetered closer to the edge. I pressed my eyes shut, eager to avoid the pitfall that came with moral destruction. My stomach was pulling one of its undeniably cruel tricks, tightening and releasing in echoes of what I’d seen Michael do to Hannah. I swallowed the nausea, but the hopelessness didn’t go with it.

“Well. That’s problematic,” Carter stated after a moment. “If what you say is true, then I suppose I have no use for the two of you.”

The two of you. The words echoed back to me, retyping in the search box of my brain as key images of Leah popped into my consciousness. My eyes flashed open, focusing a moment on my mangled hand before blurring into distortion. I knew he was bluffing. As he walked away from me, his shoes making distinct clicks on the old floorboards, I knew he was bluffing. Leah had been his target from the start, I was just an unexpected find, so there was no way he’d hurt her. Maybe the second person he spoke of was Roger—he had no use for Roger, who had come up with a plan more pathetic than his own life.

Good. At least the bastard would die with me.

But the weakness I tried to actively conceal from Carter, Roger had already seen, so I shouldn’t have been surprised when I heard an intrigued “Oh?” after a brief scuttle and dragging of feet.

“Bring her in here.”

My head snapped up fast enough to make me sway in my chair. I caught sight of Roger grinning back at me before he limped down the stairs, well out of view. In the rat’s absence, Carter made his way back to my chair, wiping the residue of my blood off the surface of his hand with a plaid handkerchief. I kept tab on him from the corner of my eye, but otherwise tried to look uninterested by staring a hole into the floor.

“It’s a shame you can’t help me,” he said after a moment, crouching down to bring himself into my perspective. I blinked up when another set of shoes came into my line of sight, only to find the bearded guard from before holding a pair of pliers. My stomach somersaulted, recollecting Michael’s faint threats from the distant past. It took every last ounce of willpower on my part not to start screaming madness when Carter took up the tool and leaned in toward me. “We could have avoided this whole mess.”

Pain bolted up from my hand, turning the muscles in my arm into concrete as my shoulder jerked back in objection. Any moment now I expected to see my fingertips falling to the floor, snipped off one by one, mutating me further in a tactless torture method. But what came, strangely enough, was a moment of liberation. The tension griping my palm eased and as I watched, Carter unraveled barbed wire from around the pool of blood coating my hand. The pressure of the thin steel dissipated into a dull sting that once again succeeded in exceeding towards an overall lack of sensation.

But why?

Did he want to fuck up my other hand too? I watched wearily as he handed the pliers back to his lackey, while keeping his own skin safe by using his soiled handkerchief to hold the bloodied wire. The smile on his face seemed almost friendly, understanding, which made it that much more petrifying when he turned it toward the echo of a whistle.

Leah bounded up the stairs a few seconds later, dragged behind the limping idiot that clutched savagely at her hand. She jerked, twisted, trying to writhe out of his grip as he struggled with her petite stature. The stubborn kid blew relentlessly on her magic whistle the whole time. But all movement came to a hiccupping pause when she saw me, a devastatingly shocked look on her face. I retaliated by turning my head away, determined to pretend she meant absolutely nothing.

“Come here, Leah,” Carter spoke in a sickeningly sweet tone. I clenched my unharmed hand into a fist, keeping my protests to myself as I heard the little body take a few steps forward.

“Go on,” Roger goaded.

“Come. No need to be afraid,” Carter added, gesturing with his clean hand. It was then that the glint of the wire caught my eye, giving me unnecessarily dark thoughts about what he planned to do with it.

“Why is his hand bleeding?” she asked quietly.

“Do you want to see? I’ll show you,” he stated calmly, as if he were about to teach her how to paint with watercolors.

This time when Leah took hesitant steps forward I stupidly reacted. “No,” I hissed, turning my wrath onto the little girl. “Don’t come near me, Leah. Stay away. Don’t look. CLOSE YOUR EYES!”

She staggered back, her wide eyes staring at me as her little mouth dropped open. Fearful of my tone, the already traumatized kid started to bawl. One hand rose from her side, pushing platinum strands out of her face as her cheeks and nose flushed visibly red. She sobbed, her little chest shuddering with the exertion as tears effortlessly fell from her eyes. “Goomba?” she squeaked, successfully ripping a giant hole into my gut.

“Stop it,” I exhaled sharply, redirecting my attention onto the crouching rival in front of me. “Stop. I’ll do what ever you want. Just stop. Stop it.”

“I knew you had a cooperative side to you, Sunshine,” Carter chuckled humorlessly. After an agonizing pause where Leah’s crying filled up the room, he glanced up to the bearded man still standing nearby. “Take her back.”

I rocked in the barber chair, testing my bindings as the little princess was dragged out of the room. She called out to me a few more times, firmly rooting the drive to save her into my DNA. Halfway down the stairs, she switched from calling me Goomba to Matthew, as if that would somehow change the outcome of the situation—as if I were merely mad at her for not following my earlier request, and that was why I neglected to run to her rescue.

“What do you want?” I snarled hatefully at the evil cousin.

“All you have to do is make one little phone call,” he hummed, the glee back in his tone.

“Why don’t you fucking make it yourself? Send him a ransom note or something, you fucking sick bastard.”

Carter pulled up from his crouch, rolling the barbed wire still in his possession into a small spool before encompassing it within the stained cloth. He then carefully folded up the handkerchief and handed it off to someone else. “The problem with my cousin is that he’s not only stubborn, but paranoid. He wouldn’t open any packages from me, much less receive them, so any notes or messages would be a moot point. I wouldn’t even be able to tell him what danger his little friends are in, because he’d never pick up my call. See my dilemma?”

“No,” I grunted stubbornly.

“Listen, Sunshine. I have a private number here, which took me quite some time to find, and I only have one chance to use it. Now if he hears my voice, chances are he’ll hang up before he realizes my threats aren’t empty. If I put a sniveling kid on the line, I doubt I’d get a better outcome. But if he hears a more familiar voice,” he hinted with a grin.

So instead of using Leah to lure Alrick to lure Asher, he was trying to speed up the process with me? Seriously?

“I told you—“ Just before I repeated how this plan was pointless and an utter waste of time, I managed to stop myself. Why remind him that I was useless? Why instill the idea that I couldn’t help? That would just give him reason to get rid of me and hurt Leah. Why hadn’t I thought of that before? “Fine,” I said quickly, trying to build up my bravado. “I’ll do it, but first you have to promise you won’t hurt Leah.”

“I have no interest in the girl,” he stated indifferently.

“Promise that if I do as you say, she’ll be safe,” I pushed my luck. “Give me your word.”

“What makes you think I’ll keep my word, even if I do promise?” he laughed at me.

Because his word was all I had to hold onto. “I just do.”

He watched me then, his faded blue eyes trying to size me up in all my stubborn glory.  After a moment, his lips pulled back into a soft smile. “Alright. You get Asher here, and I promise not to touch a hair on her head. You have my word.”

 

 

I barely managed to stop my face from colliding with the ground when Carter’s men shoved me out the back of their car, abandoning me in the middle of a street. All I had left in my possession was a number scribbled on a piece of paper, a phone card with enough change to make one measly international call, and the clothes on my back. The half-assed bandage wrapped around my hand didn’t do much to stop the blood seeping out of my open wounds, but enough time had passed for most of it to clot. Thankfully I’d been dropped off by a pay phone, so I didn’t need to walk far to carry out my orders.

Drops of rain scattered across the back of my scalp, over my shoulders, adding more weight to my already heavy body as I forced myself inside the booth. My fingers trembled when they picked up the receiver, they shook when they grazed across the numbers, and I tried to fight the urge to call outsiders for help as I stared down at the paper in my hand. I didn’t remember Vincenzo’s number. Ashley couldn’t help me. The police didn’t seem like an option.

I hastily swiped the phone card, punched in the given number, and waited as the ringing began. The rhythm in sound only had one break in it, a single, soft click before the rings resumed. Would he pick up? Would he answer? Even if he did, who was to say he wouldn’t hang up on me?

Another click came after what felt like an endless string of useless chimes. This time, only silence ensued.

“Hello?” I whispered quietly, already shaking with anticipation. I expected a click, a dial tone, maybe even an angry voice, but all I found was an eerie stillness. “Hello?” I tried again, closing my eyes as the pitter-patter of rain filled my mind. If it wasn’t for the throbbing in my hand, I was certain sleep would have taken me for its own. My exhaustion practically poured from my pores, but I tried not to focus on it. I only had one chance to sway Asher to help, if not me, at least Leah. “It’s me,” I exhaled. Did he know? Could he tell? Surely he wouldn’t have forgotten. Surely he hated me.

And then I heard it, a soft creak, and while no voice came I knew that I at least had an audience. “I know… you’re probably angry, and I have no right to be asking anything from you, but…” I paused, trying to swallow the thickness in my throat. “I… I need your help.”

The moment I spoke, moisture filled my eyes. The ache of my palm joined with Leah’s terrified expression haunting me pushed me off the cliff, prompting me to mimic the darkened sky in shedding my misery with tears. My knees progressively folded in under me, swaying me back against the transparent walls of the claustrophobic booth as I fell into a crouch. I had screwed up so badly. I had no idea how to recover from it. I couldn’t call Vincenzo. I couldn’t call Alrick. Asher wanted me dead and Leah was in trouble because of me. Once again I had single-handedly ruined everything.

“Please,” I tried, progressively growing more desperate. “Please help me. I really messed up this time. I should have been more careful, but… oh god, I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know where to go. Please help me. You’re the only one that can help me,” I groaned. And still, no sound came, but at that point the fact that I hadn’t been disconnected from the line was enough to encourage me to continue. “It’s not.. It’s not for my sake. It’s for Leah. Your cous—Carter. Carter has her, and if you don’t show up tomorrow he’s going to kill her.” Along with me, but that was beside the point. “Please. I’m begging you. Help her.”

Nestled in a never-ending one-sided conversation, I tried not to vent any of my anger on possible presences at the opposite end of the line. Instead, I gave whoever was listening an address that had been scribbled on the back of the paper in my hand, and one last heartfelt please before hanging up.

The rain had grown so heavy that the pounding of water on glass made me grimace with each new wave. I didn’t bother trying to replace the receiver when it toppled out of its hold, I didn’t move to pick up the useless phone card, and it seemed unnecessary to keep the number with me. Only when my fingers slipped into the warmth of my pockets did I recall the grating absence of my keychain.

Now it felt more like another omen.

I staggered out into the storm, taking my punishment graciously as my attire grew heavy with the pouring liquid in a matter of minutes. Not able to sit around and twiddle my thumbs while Leah cried her pretty eyes out somewhere unknown, I drifted towards the street. If only I hadn’t taken Leah out. If only I’d been smart enough to keep her safe. If only I still had my cell phone. If only I could call Vincenzo or Elena. If only Asher didn’t hate me. If only.

As I tucked my wounded hand into the warmth of my jacket, keeping it cradled against my ribcage, I began a long walk to the address designated as the meeting point. There was only one question on my mind then, only one thing I truly cared about:

Would Asher show up?

 

 

Author’s Note: I don’t know! Will he? Oh god, the suspense! AAAHH.

Some of the reviews this time brought out the giggly little girl in me (she’s neglected), and I just wanted to take a moment and seriously thank you all for the feedback. I love seeing your thoughts, good or bad (but mostly good), the long 'essays', and how you all digest what I’m throwing at you. :D It’s like a shiny reward. I know I should take advantage of the forums to respond to you all, but at this point I’m afraid it’ll be a battlefield of “NO. VINCENZO IS BETTA.” and “NU! ASHER IS BETTAH!” So uh... gonna avoid that. Don’t worry too much about who Matt ‘ends up’ with. Just sit back and enjoy the ride!

Side Note: The speed of which this Chapter was finished/posted is officially a FLUKE. Don’t get too excited. I was stuck sick in bed for a whole day and spent my afternoon writing (my excuse for any errors you might find). So don’t expect the next chapter for a while… ‘cause I’m taking my vitamins. ;x