Burn (23 page)

             
“And the second reason?” My words tumbled out harshly because I already knew what the second reason was.

             
He exasperatedly shut his eyes for a moment. When they opened again, weariness filled them. “You’re right. I’m obsessed with you. I don’t even know why. I just… I wanted you to myself. I had a lot of shit going on, was just given the title of VP. I wanted you to have a good job, to be safe and secure so that when I was ready to come for you, we would both be in good places.

             
“Anyways, Scorpions set up shop here. When I saw Jaxon, I knew it was going to be a major complication if you ever came back. Tried to sort some peace out with them, accept what they’d done to our town… Then all control escaped me with what happened to your mom and all. I didn’t want you here at the risk of you seeing him. Then of course Rita fucking pushed the issue behind my back, telling the priest to contact you. The rest was out of my hands. You came back and went straight to him. I realized I had to stop waiting for the best time and just make that time happen with you. So I took you from him. Again.” Even I could hear the sound of incredulity in his voice, like he was stunned at what he’d done.

             
“It was wrong,” he continued. “I know that. I made a stupid decision. I was selfish and wrong. Sometimes love makes you do the craziest shit.”

             
“That’s not love,” I bitterly stated. That was obsession. Obsession of the most critical kind.

             
“The way I feel for you, it’s love. You don’t wanna call it that? Fine. But every time I look at you, I see purpose. I’m a fuckin’ weak ass man in your hands. For Manny to tell me that you were spying in the surveillance room after you’d disappeared from the party today to see who I assume was Jaxon – how the fuck am I meant to take that news, Sara? The possibility you could be usin’ me right now…” He paused and looked away from me, unable to meet my eyes. He was hurting.

             
I didn’t want to crumble. Not after what he just did and the news I’d just learned. So I watched the pain skirt around his face as he tried hard to swallow it back. It was tough fighting it when all I wanted to do was reach out for him. I thought it strange just then how you can watch someone you love do the most horrible things and still burn for them. Enough for me now to understand Jaxon when he told me it wasn’t up to me to have made the decision to walk away.

             
But there were more questions that needed answering.

             
“The text message,” I said, waiting for him to come clean once again.

             
He frowned. “What’re you talking about?”

             
“There was a photo sent to my phone of a girl trying to kiss Jaxon at a club. One that almost broke us up.”

             
“I have nothing to do with that. If I did, I’d tell you.”

             
Damn. I was mentally exhausted and emotionally drained.

             
“Thank you for telling me the truth,” I muttered. He could have easily left me in the dark about it. Instead, he confessed it all at the risk of changing how I felt about him.

             
I went to hand him back the bracelet – he did steal it off Jaxon after all and had kept it all these years – and he looked down at my hand stupidly. “It’s yours, Sara. I don’t want it.”

             
Minutes passed by. I dangled the bracelet in my hands, watching it shimmer under the light, feeling good I was holding onto something that Jaxon had once touched.

             
“So what now?” I asked. “Are all the Jackals going to make me suffer the consequences of my actions?”
In other words, am I going to die?

             
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he answered softly. “I told Manny I sent you to the surveillance room to meet with me, but that you got there before I did. That you’re just a curious girl I hadn’t explained the rules to.”

             
And so he redeems himself by lying to Prez in order to protect me. Cue more internal conflict. “He couldn’t have bought that.”

             
Remy shrugged coolly. “It doesn’t matter. That’s my word against his. He can’t do shit about it.”

             
“Well, thank you. For covering me.”

             
He went to grab my hand but hesitated. Then he tapped his fingers against the mattress thoughtfully and replied, “Next time come to me, and I promise you’ll get your answers.”

             
I nodded rigidly.

             
The silence that followed wasn’t comfortable. It was awkward as hell. Both of us were immersed in our own world of thinking; the only way to bridge the gap would have been to show some affection. I could make things right again by bringing him into my embrace and continuing on as though it never changed.

             
But the days of my pretending that everything was alright were over. I wouldn’t make-believe a reality in order to make others around me happy. So I didn’t comfort him.

             
He got up after a while, stared lovingly at me in a way that stole my breath. Then he left the room.

             
The second he did, I hurriedly put the bracelet around my wrist, clasping it with a
click
that felt more like it was emanating from my heart than anything else.

*****

Tears fell from my eyes. The second I stepped back into the house, I was held down to the ground by a fat arm. My head thumped, and my eyes swelled from the pressure he was putting on me.

             
“Where the fuck were you?!” he shouted. His saliva hit my face and around my mouth, tasting of alcohol and cigarettes.

             
“I was out with my friend!” I cried.

             
“Leave hur alun, Noman,” Mom slurred from behind him.

             
“Shut the fuck up, Joanne,” he growled. “This little slut thinks she can come and go as she wants wearin’ nothin’ but a fuckin’ see through top with her tits out to the world. Ain’t no daughter of mine is gonna do that shit! Ain’t no fuckin’ daughter of mine, you hear?”

             
I sobbed, feeling the cold tile numb my cheek.

             
“How old are you?!” he screamed.

             
“T-t-twelve,” I stuttered.

             
“Then you look like a fuckin’ twelve year old!”

             
“Take hur to the used shop,” slurred Mom again. “She might need mo’ clothes.”

             
Norman let go of me abruptly and turned in Mom’s direction. I hurriedly got up and watched as he grabbed her suddenly by the hair and dragged her off the couch. Surprisingly, she didn’t make a sound, but her eyes were bulging out of her skull as she waited for his strikes.

             
“Now why would I take her down to a shop that man owns?” he barked at her. His eyes had gone cold as blood as he brought her close to his face. “Or is that what
you
want? Answer me, bitch!”

             
Joanne shook her head cogently.

             
“Then shut your fat fucking head up.”

             
Joanne nodded adamantly, telling him over and over again that he was right.

             
I slipped by without his notice and hurried to my room all the while wondering how the mention of a man could make Norman erupt so suddenly.

Six
teen

Day three since I saw Jaxon at the park.
And day three of awkward communication with Remy. He was looking for ways to keep busy, otherwise he’d be somewhere nearby watching me. During the day he’d go on “business” runs with the guys, and day two he returned with bloody knuckles and a “don’t ask” look on his face as he rushed to wash it off.

             
Day three he packed a bag and said he had another business run a few hours out of town and that he would be away for two nights. Without a kiss good bye, he left with most of the guys. I knew what some of these business runs entailed to, hearing it nonstop from Fritz who had currently passed out on the couch and missed out on going. Some of the things included partying, drinking hard and fucking women. Meanwhile the old ladies were followed around by whatever Jackal remained and kept carefully close. Fair, huh?

             
I was seeing things from a different light. My entire stay here had been an illusion of freedom. I knew without a doubt he’d never let me go.
And what if I did have the choice?
Well then… that’s what pissed me off the most. I didn’t know what I’d do. Would I stay? Would I go? Were my feelings for him real or the outcome of our forced inseparability all these months?

             
On my way to the kitchen that day, I ignored Rita’s dirty looks. Clearly she didn’t have a sense of smell sitting on the couch next to a passed out Fritz and reading a glamour magazine. She hadn’t talked to me since that barbecue, but her looks alone carried silent conversations of hate.
Death to Sara
, these looks said.

             
I placed two slices of bread in the toaster and waited patiently around the kitchen island.

             
It was while I was slapping a shit load of butter on my toast that an alarm unexpectedly sounded. It was a loud, screeching kind of alarm that had me throwing my hands over my ears. I vaguely heard screams…Then, to my horror, gun shots.

             
I abandoned my work of buttered art and cautiously stepped out of the kitchen. Remy had warned me about the alarms once. He said if I heard them to head to my room as soon as humanly possible. It sounded when there were intruders, and now for fucking certain I knew there were because the gun shots continued to sound in the near distance.

             
Heart in my throat, I hurried down the hall. I heard Barge hollering. “Get in your rooms NOW!”

             
Fear stilled me in my steps. I’d have to walk through the main room to get to the staircase to the bedroom. Fuck. What if the intruders were there?
What other choice do you have?

             
I shakily rushed down the hallway and into the main room where Barge, Fritz, Broom and Vince were. They were spread out around the entrance doors, and Broom was unloading a duffel bag full of guns. I looked around the room, hastily searching for the threat.

             
“What’s going on?” I yelled over the alarm.

             
Barge turned to me and his face darkened. “Get in your fucking room, Sara!”

             
“Where are they?”

             
“Outside,” Broom answered me. “Within the walls.”

             
“Get in your room!” Barge repeated.

             
“Who are they?”

             
Barge, looking beyond pissed now, stalked toward me. He gripped me by the arm and then pushed me back roughly in the direction of the staircase.

             
“Get your ass up there right now,” he growled. “I’m not gonna be explaining to Remy that you died because you were too fuckin’ dense in the head to listen to one command.”

             
I gulped in surprise and nodded. “O-okay.”

             
“Lock your door.”

             
I turned around and hurried up to my room, so jumpy I ended up tripping once along the way.

             
What the fuck was a door going to do? If whoever was shooting got inside they’d just break the doors down. The one day most of the men aren’t around, shit has to hit the fan at the one place I thought we were safe in.

             
I ran aimlessly down the hallway, and when I reached my door, I halted immediately. The fear in me multiplied. There was a man with a balaclava mask on and a black gun in his hand. My footsteps had alerted him to me, and he turned around to face me. I tensed in terror and then took an uncoordinated step back, tripping over my feet. I fell hard on my ass, but the pain that rocketed up my tail bone was barely felt.

             
Screaming and hoping someone might hear was out of the question. The alarms were deafening, and even if I did scream, what might this man do to me?

             
I scurried back and he took a step forward. “Please, stop!” I whimpered. “Do what you came for. I won’t be in your way.”