Red (Black #2) (11 page)

“How long have I been… here?” I ask looking around.

She sits back on the end of the bed, her face scrunches, hurt from me not answering her question. “A few days, close to a week.”

“Fuck!” I stand, my legs are shaky. She stands automatically, ready to grab me. I am inches from her now, her face is so close. Her full pink lips, so kissable, so fucking close.

“This is your room.” I watch her lips when she speaks. It takes me moments to understand what she’s saying.

A noise, a noise so loud pulls me from her. She steps forward, closer to me. The noise scaring her, enticing me. A noise that’s bred into me rings off again, I don’t stop her when she pulls away and opens the door. I can’t, my body is too slow, too broken right now, my energy has been drained to non-existent.

Another shot, this time I don’t see her, she’s disappeared through the door. I reach under the bed, pulling out a black case. Opening it, I wonder why I even grabbed it, not wondering how I knew exactly where it was.

It has two guns, a handgun, and a sniper rifle. I pull the rifle—this is something that feels like mine. It feels like the only thing I’ve touched that feels all mine. I know everything about it, without even seeing it clearly.

Another shot, women start to scream.

I use the walls to help me walk out, and when I enter the main room, I see a red couch with colored walls, so brightly covered in graffiti. This is the house she took me to before I fucked her against a dirty wall like a whore.

I get to the window and look down, Red is a few meters away from Savannah. Savannah has a gun in her hand, waving it around like the careless bitch that she is. I hear Red’s calming voice, trying to placate her. It won’t work, because Savannah is a special kind of crazy.

She sees me in the window and smiles brightly. Red follows her eyes and looks up at me the same time Savannah does. They aren’t too far apart, meters at best, but Red is blocking Savannah from the angle I aim at.

“You think you can just leave?” She laughs, raises her gun to Red. Red looks back, Savannah isn’t watching her, her eyes are on me. “For this? For the junkie?”

“What did you do to me, Savannah?”

Her lips quirk up. “Having withdrawals, love?” Her shoulders rise in confidence. “Come with me and I can make it all better, baby.”

“What was it, Savannah?”

“It’s a memory suppressor, my love. One I gave to you when I slipped it into your dinner to help you fall asleep at night. You would have never known if you didn’t leave me.” Her eyes fall back to Red, she smiles at her. When she talks, she talks to me but constantly watches Red.

“If you leave with me, we can forget about everything that’s happened, and I won’t hurt her.” She removes the safety from the gun, and Red begins to shake.

I take aim—she doesn’t see me—and I shoot. She smiles brightly.

The pain is so intense, it rips through my shoulder like a knife twisting back and forth. Savannah hums in amusement, her white teeth reminding me of the devil. She lowers her gun, looking up at Liam and blows him a kiss. She goes to raise the gun again, taking aim at my head, then as her smile turns sinister, her eyes roll backward. There’s a hole in between her eyes on her forehead. She drops to my feet. Not long after, I do the same, we both lay there coloring the green grass red.

I hear footsteps, my body is on the verge of passing out. I can feel the blood as it pours from the wound, the pain taking hold. It hurts, and yes I’ve had worse. This, though, this is a pain that won’t stop twisting, a pain that my body wants to shut out by sleeping.

I vaguely feel him, I smell him. I hear his struggle as he carries me up the stairs. He wouldn’t have any energy, he hasn’t eaten solid food for over a week.

He places me in the bath, cuts my shirt open with a pocket knife, and I drift in and out of consciousness.

“Bite,” he commands, placing something into my mouth. I can’t, I want to sleep because sleep takes the pain away.

My own screams—ring in my ears. He’s digging into my shoulder for the bullet, his fingers inside my open wound. His free hand places the shirt into my mouth, trying to cut my screams but it doesn’t work. I hear when he removes the bullet, it dings when it hits the tiles, and I collapse a little more into the bath.

He lifts me back up so he can reach my shoulder easily. This time, when he places something into my mouth he commands, “Bite.” I do, and pass out from that pain, as he stitches me up.

He’s asleep next to me when I wake again. I watch his profile. He sleeps exactly the same as he did last time. Not moving, on his back. Like he’s dead.

He has a scar on his eyebrow, one he never had before. I kneel up on my elbows, looking him over, he has a plain black shirt on I can’t see much, especially with his long black slacks that fit perfectly on his toned body. His hands, though, I notice them. He has a scar so deep in both palms. I lift his hand up gently while examining it. It’s on both sides like something has gone right through his hand.

“Last person that touched me when I was sleeping, that I didn’t know, ended up with a bullet, Red.”

I drop his hand out of sheer shock, his eyes are open and he’s watching me, but it’s with interest. “You know me,” I reply.

“No, you used to know a version of me. I know no version of you.” He puts his hands to his stomach.

“Do you feel anything when you’re with me?”

“I do.” His answers are short, much like they always have been.

“What?”

“That I want to push you away.” He sits up, coming face to face with me.

“That’s nothing new, you tried that once and it didn’t work.” I shrug my shoulders, it’s the truth.

“Tell me what happened?”

“Happened?”

“Yes, I want to know why no one searched for me if you say I was so important?”

“You are… to me.” I turn my head to his window, it’s blacked out, to match the darkness of this room. “I can’t talk about it, not even with you.”

“Why?” He’s looking at me, his face emotionless, though his eyes, they tell something different.

“You should remember soon, and if you don’t, I will tell you. I just can’t, it hurts too much.”

“You were important to me, weren’t you?” I simply nod my head. He wasn’t good at defining things, so I won’t either. “If I don’t remember, what will you do?” My hands touch his face, his beard is under my palms, and his long lashes flutter with each blink he takes.

“I will make you remember me.”

Hayden comes over after school, Liam is downstairs, he said he needed to clear his head. I watch as Hayden smiles at him, Liam stands there watching him, not speaking, just listening. He has disposed of her body and cleaned the mess up. I fell back asleep after we spoke, then called my mother to check on the kids.

Hayden is old enough now that he doesn’t have to ask for my permission every time he wants to go somewhere, except he still does. He told me he was coming over. I told him Mr. Black won’t remember him, but he didn’t care—to him, Liam is his Holy Grail. His savior and nothing anyone said could stop him from seeing him, not even me.

Liam’s head whips behind, he looks up to me, sensing I’m there. His sunglasses cover his eyes, and I still feel the weight of his eyes on me.

“You need to go to your family,” he says once he walks back upstairs. It’s early. I need to go to work sometime today. Preferably on time.

“I will.”

“I don’t need you here.”

“You don’t, but I want to be here for you.”

“Do you know much about these drugs?”

“Why?” He stands so still, it’s always been odd having a conversation with him. It’s like he doesn’t need to move.

“Because I want to go after the people who make such a thing.”

“I know it’s a black market drug. All I know is that it suppresses memories, and it needs to be given correctly. It has to be given in doses, to not rid the current memory if it’s given too frequently, it would suppress the current memory. Basically, it's like a top up drug from the original memory suppressor.”

“Your doctor told you this?”

“Yes. He said your memory should come back once the drug is out of your system, but it’s not guaranteed because you’ve had it for such an extensive period of time, though.”

“Who the fuck makes this shit?”

“There have been reports of a local pharmacist that’s been making it for a while now. Though, no one has actually found it. I know Robbie was looking for the pharmacist, but he’s had no luck.”

“Robbie?” Oh, that’s right, memory.

“He’s a Police Officer.”

“You trust him?”

“Yes.”

“You shouldn’t…” is all he says as he walks away.

Jake is here, he turned up not long after Hayden left. He sees me flinch when he touches me and turns me around to inspect the wound. He tears the bandage off of it.

“Who shot you?” he speaks fast. His breathing is becoming heavier on the back of my neck.

“I don’t remember, it’s all a blur.”

“I shot her,” Liam says walking in, he’s dressed exactly the way I remember him. In a suit with a white shirt and no tie. My heart hammers hard.

I’m too slow to stop what happens next. Jake’s gun raises, then so does Liam’s, it’s so fast it’s like a blur. Bullets fire, Jake drops to the floor, Liam stands there with an expressionless face.
Nothing unusual.

I drop to Jake’s side, help him up, but he shrugs me off. Liam hit his hand, the one that was holding the gun. I can see the blood dripping onto the floor, he tears away a part of his shirt and wraps it around his hand.