Broken (22 page)

She wants someone to tell her she’s not losing her mind.

She can’t be losing her mind.

Maybe, just maybe, if she tells a manager about the bathroom, they might come back telling her that it looks perfectly normal.

•   •   •

The Mississippi flows underneath them as James and Connor watch the French Quarter pass by. A voice narrates the trip through
speakers, but it allows them to talk freely without worrying about someone listening in on them.

“Never knew you wanted to take me on a riverboat,” Connor says. “Couldn’t there at least be some gambling?”

“I wanted to make sure we weren’t being followed.”

“It’d be hard to miss Amos.”

“We almost both died because of that guy,” James says.

“We almost died because of that chick.”

James stares out into the fading light and is lost in thought. He’s trying to control the panic, trying to stay ahead of the
rush of fear that’s closing in.

“I’m leaving,” Connor says.

James looks at his brother. “What?”

“You heard me. I’m going to take half that money and leave.”

“Two hundred and fifty—no, actually less—where’s that going to get you?”

“Far from here. Far from Amos.”

He thinks over the events that just happened. How a security guy coming out of nowhere ended up taking care of Amos. How James
grabbed Connor and led them out of the hotel before anybody else showed up. How both of them argued and how James eventually
forced Connor onto this boat.

“Wanna know who tackled you?” James asks.

“I don’t know. And I don’t care.”

“Lex. Laila’s brother.”

“What’s he doing here?”

“Having a nice little family reunion.”

“Doesn’t matter to me.”

“You can’t leave, not like this.”

“It’s over for me,” Connor says.

For a long time they stand in silence, the captain’s narration breezing by and fading away. James lights a cigarette and offers
one to Connor.

“Remember that camp we used to go to when we were young?”

“Yeah,” James says.

“Remember when we used to take the boats out at night on Lake Michigan?”

James nods.

“I was thinking about that the other day. I don’t know why, just was. I was thinking how much I loved those days. I always
thought it’d be cool to get a little shack up there by the lake and just settle down.”

He laughs at Connor. “Settle down? Settle down doing what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I could, like, have a garden and make homemade beer and become one of those earthy people.”

“You mean potheads?”

Connor curses. “So what? I can’t have a dream?”

“Not sure I call that a dream. More like a wish to get out of here.”

“It’s not that. It’s just—I don’t know.”

“What?” James asks.

“I think I liked camp because we were away from Ma and Dad. Away from him, you know? Because he couldn’t do anything to us
then. It was just us. Just us and nature and quiet. You know?”

There is neither sadness nor anger in Connor’s glance. Something got lost long ago, maybe somewhere along the shores of Lake
Michigan in that lighter, brighter world.

“We just need to get past this,” James says.

“Get past what? Amos? Or Danny? Or the full moon? The Mississippi?”

“Stop being stupid.”

“You stop being stupid. I got my wake-up call on New Year’s Eve, how about you?”

“Wake-up call? Is that what it was for you? Doesn’t that mean you’re supposed to change then? Become a better person?”

“Doesn’t mean all things change,” Connor says. “Just means I need to get out of this mess.”

“Yeah well, I got my wake-up call on New Year’s Eve too. You almost died on me, man. So by God it’s about time I’m going to
give a little of it back.”

“A little what?”

“Laila’s going to have a very rude awakening very shortly.”

“We’ve been trying.”

“Well we’ll try a little harder then, won’t we?”

“Keep it down,” Connor says.

“She’s not getting away.”

“She might already have.”

“No. She’s still here. She’s hiding. She’s with her little protector, and she’s hiding. Her brother is still around, and I
just bet she won’t leave without him.”

“So what are we doing?”

“Regrouping.”

“James, man, we keep getting signs to get out. We got some cash. We need to get out.”

“No.”

“We’re pushing fate. It’s telling us that things aren’t going to end up well.”

“Then we’ll push back. We’ll push harder.” James curses. “She’s going to look me in the eye one more time before this is all
done.”

“That might be a mistake.”

“I’ve made ’em before, and I’m sure I’ll do it again.”

•   •   •

This is what they call stupid, Lex.

He waits and watches and listens to his thoughts passing by like 18-wheelers on the freeway at night. He’s above the dock
where the
riverboat will arrive in ten minutes, hidden in the shadows where they won’t be able to see him when they get off.

He doesn’t have a plan. But he followed them and is going to make sure they stay far away from her. If Laila doesn’t want
to see him, at least he will make sure they don’t see her either.

You are tired and being stupid because that’s not rational, he thinks. Get in your car and head back home and leave this all
behind. She was a problem when she was young, and she always has been a problem. And she will be the death of you before this
is all over.

But Lex knows these men are here because of him. Because of a conversation he had with the dark-haired man who called himself
“Sonny.” They had met and had lunch after he called Lex. Sonny had said he was a photographer in Chicago who had been in a
relationship with Laila when she suddenly disappeared. Lex had told the man as much as he knew, but that had been sadly very
little.

It was only after Sonny left that Lex began to worry. He knows now his worries were justified, that the man wasn’t even named
Sonny. He wanted the information to track down his sister, but obviously not for the reasons he said.

Lex looks at his watch.

His phone rings, and this time he decides to take it.

“Where are you?” Kyle asks. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“We’re worried, man. Laila’s worried sick.”

“Tell her I’m fine. I’m safe.”

“What happened to those guys?”

“They’re still out there. How is she?”

“Laila’s okay. We’re on Bourbon Street. At a bar and grill.”

“Kyle, listen to me. Don’t leave Laila.”

“Why would I do that?”

“You just can’t. Promise me.”

“Of course I won’t. I promise. What are you doing? Are you leaving?”

“No. But just make sure you guys hide somewhere.”

“I want her to leave. But, I don’t know—she’s confused. And scared. After what happened at the hotel—she’s not the only one.”

“These guys are going to keep going after her.”

“So what’s that mean?”

“Maybe—I don’t know. Maybe I can—I don’t know.”

“You better be careful or you’ll end up on the receiving end of something bad.”

“I won’t,” Lex says. “Look—I’ll give you guys a call in an hour or so. Okay? You can tell me where you’re at and then we can
meet up.”

“Why don’t we do that now?”

“I don’t want anything happening to her. They followed her all the way down here, right? I don’t want them finding her again.”

“So you’re spying on them?”

“I’m watching them to see where they go.”

“That’s like the worst idea I’ve ever heard of.”

“They’ve already made their way to New Orleans, right?” Lex says. “I don’t want to find them breaking down a door and dragging
me out of a hotel room, got it?”

“What about the big guy? What happened to him? Laila told me he came out of nowhere.”

“I don’t know where he is.”

“You better make sure he’s not watching you.”

“He’s not. Listen, just stay with her and go somewhere safe. I’ll call you in an hour.”

Lex gets off the phone and looks at his watch. Only a few more minutes.

He knows he should probably call the police, but he can’t. He’s afraid for Laila, that something will happen to her, that
this all has something to do with her past. The same past she’s running from but can’t seem to escape.

The scar on his arm from a teenage knife fight reminds him that the past will always be there. Regardless of where you go
and what
you do with the rest of your life, the past is there to remind and to taunt and to terrorize.

And it’s only by the grace of God that he’s allowed any semblance of peace. But it does come.

Peace comes.

But that doesn’t mean it makes the day any easier. Or the reminders any softer.

•   •   •

“Where did they go?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll find them,” Amos says into the cell phone.

“This is a problem.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“The girl? Where’d she go?”

“She disappeared.”

Danny curses. “Just finish it. Deal with this mess and come back. I don’t need any more headaches. I want the Brennan brothers
dead. By tomorrow, you hear me?”

“What about the money?”

He curses again and tells him not to bother. “I should’ve never trusted James in the first place. At least his brother gets
things done. He used to do a great job for me getting money when people owed me.”

“I’ll find them and get rid of them. What about the others?”

“I don’t care. Do what you need to do, but make sure neither of those boys ever leaves New Orleans.”

“Got it.”

I never blame my circumstances on my mother’s passing away when I was four. I’ve never said or thought that her death made
me who I am. Or let me rephrase that–I’ve never said or thought that her death made me choose the paths I did. Life happens.
Death happens. Accidents happen. Brutalities happen. Settling happens.

I sometimes wonder what it would be like to have been a mother.

Would that have changed me?

Would this broken-down and chipped soul be resuscitated by the simple smile on her baby’s sweet cheeks?

I don’t know. But sometimes I think that might have changed me, that might have made things better. Not easier, but better.

Because then I would have known that I needed to be better for someone else. I’ve never needed to be anything for anybody.
Not my family and not my friends and not the few I’ve loved. And definitely not myself. But being a mother would have meant
that I needed to be better for him.

They say having a baby changes everything, and it probably does. I’ve always believed that and probably know that to be true.

But we all fear change, don’t we?

Some of us fight it to the death.

L
aila doesn’t worry about someone being in her hotel room. She’s already explained to Kyle that nobody knows where she’s staying
and nobody is following her. They even walk around several blocks just to prove her point. After closing the door and seeing
Kyle looking white with fear, Laila stops and listens for a minute, waiting for any intruder to make his presence known.

“See?” she says.

Kyle checks the bathroom.

“Check under the bed too.”

“That’s not funny.”

He checks the balcony.

“We’re safe here,” she tells him.

Kyle rubs his eyebrows in a way that Laila admires. It makes him look young. Young and innocent.

“Keep the door open,” she tells him as he steps off the balcony back into the room.

“Why?”

“I like it. I like to hear the sounds of life coming in the room.”

Kyle keeps the balcony door open and scans the street.

“They’re not down there waiting for us.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do. Come on. Sit down.”

He appears nervous and not just because of the fear of being followed. When he sits in one of the chairs against the wall
facing the bed, Laila suddenly understands why he’s acting so awkward.

She sits on the edge of the bed and smiles at him. “This is probably the safest place we could be right now.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“I’m not going to bite you.”

He realizes how he’s acting and he smiles at her, nodding. “I know.”

“Nor will I attack you.”

“I know. It’s not you. It’s just me. It’s just—I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?”

“This. Like how I sometimes might have imagined this scenario in my dreams but not actually living it out. And especially
not like this.”

“I didn’t see this coming either,” she says.

For a while there’s a silence in the room. Not an awkward silence, but more tired and still. Laila wonders what to do and
when to do it and she assumes that Kyle must be thinking the same.

She studies Kyle, knowing he is waiting for her to talk and letting her have a few moments to herself.

“Why are you here?”

“What?”

“Why’d you come after me? I mean—it’s one thing to want to hang out with me after work or even walk me home or stay up with
me talking in the night. But why this?”

He laughs like a schoolboy. “I don’t know.”

“Really?”

“I don’t. Seriously. You know I’m not—that I don’t have some ulterior motive.”

“What? To undress me and have your way?”

Kyle looks speechless, and she apologizes. “Look, I know that’s not why you’re here. But I can’t figure out why you are.”

He rubs his face and glances out at the balcony. “You want to hear something crazy?”

“Bet it won’t be as crazy as you think it is.”

“Probably not,” he says. “Maybe more so than crazy, it’s silly.”

“Tell me.”

“I changed schools in my junior year of high school. One of the hardest things I ever had to do. Losing all these friends
I’d known for years and suddenly being thrust in a new environment. It was tough. I sorta floundered my way into different
groups and different friends. And I remember there was this girl who was in my grade—she was
beautiful and popular and seemed funny and outgoing. And the entire year, I never talked with her once. Not even once. She
wasn’t dating anybody at the time, but I never said anything to her. Sometimes I got this feeling when we passed—her locker
was close to mine—see, I told you it’s silly. I’d get this idea that she liked me.