Tsea (5 page)

They’d found her!

Stoker had to admit, the sight was a bit gruesome. He’d gone to special lengths to ensure the girl’s pristine face was as clean and sweet as possible. He imagined the little girls that would hear about this story on the news and felt a surge of pride.

He’d done his best to capture the heart of his crusade with that one action.

Essence Griar. She was
tsea
, soiled. No one that thought of her would see her as anything but. It was fitting. It was right.

I grasped a hot cup in my palms and stared at the cream walls. My knees bounced up and down and the tea in the glass sloshed dangerously close to the edge. A drop of the steaming hot liquid splattered onto my wrists. I didn’t even feel it.

“Jade,” a deep voice rumbled. I saw Carlos’s shadow as he crossed into his large living room and sat beside me. “Are you okay?”

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t okay. I wouldn’t ever be okay. Not after what I’d seen tonight. I closed my eyes but the pictures in the darkness were creepily vibrant, as if they were tattooed on the back of my eyelids.

Carlos folded his large arms together and rested his chin on the tips of his fingers. “Do the clothes fit?”

I glanced down at the borrowed T-shirt that fell to my thighs. The soft material was a strange combination with the fishnet stockings but the last thing on my mind right now was fashion. I simply nodded and took a sip of the tea.

Carlos sighed and shifted uncomfortably. “I’m very sorry, Jade.”

I swallowed, continuing to stare at the cream walls as I replied. “I didn’t know her like that,” I sighed. “I honestly didn’t like her.” I thought of all the times Essence had tried to move in on Manuel. There were days when I wished she’d leave
Mickey’s
and never come back.

But I hadn’t meant for her to go like this.

“He got the media’s attention at least.” I spoke quietly.

Carlos nodded. “Shoving someone’s head on a stick can do that.”

“It could have been any one of us,” I whispered, shivering in fright at the thought. “She was in her costume for tonight. She was coming to work and he took her…” I inhaled sharply, “he killed her and put her head in front of the pop-up club.”

Carlos drew closer and rubbed circles on my back. “It wasn’t you. It
won’t
be you, Jade. You don’t have to be afraid.”

I turned to him with tears in my eyes. “Why? Why are you helping me?”

He firmed his lips. “Because you’ll be safer here with me. If there’s even a slight chance he knows where you live, what your routine is… I don’t want you to get hurt.”

There were those words again. “You didn’t answer the question.” I pointed out. “Why me? There are other Mickey Girls who need protecting.”

He stood and paced to the other side of the room. I followed him, “What aren’t you telling me?”

His jaw working, Carlos stared at the ground.

“Carlos,” I insisted. “How do you know so much about this case, about this guy? Why did you choose me?”

“You remind me of someone,” he offered hesitantly. “My sister.”

I stepped back in shock. As far as I knew, I had been an only child. “What?”

“When I was studying in America,” he turned away and faced the television set. I saw his hands curling into fists, “she got involved with a bad group of friends. Started running away from home, doing drugs, selling her body to afford another hit.” His voice cracked. “My parents and I … we didn’t do anything to help her. She had always been headstrong so I thought it was just a phase. I let her run around, live life in the fast lane because I thought that was what she wanted. I knew if I argued with her, she’d just dig her feet in deeper.”

Carlos punched the wall in a sudden burst of anger and I jumped.

“I should have come home. I should have rescued her.” He mumbled, locked away in his grief.

His pain was palpable and I could no more keep myself from offering comfort as I could forget the gory events of this night. “You didn’t know. It’s not your fault.” I put the tea cup on the coffee table and extended my hand to touch his shoulder. He let me, slowly collecting himself and taking deep breaths.

Finally, when he held a better grasp on his composure, Carlos loosened his fisted fingers. “She was one of the girls The Executioner murdered in the Cayo District. He removed her head and left her naked body in a garbage bin. She was my sister. Her name was Heather.”

I gasped, “I’m so sorry.”

He nodded and turned around, placing his large hand over mine. “You remind me of her. You’re both crazy stubborn and tender-hearted.” He pressed a palm to my cheek. “And so broken.”

I frowned at the term. “I’m not broken.”

“We’re all broken, Jade.” He said, his dark eyes intent on my face. “We’re all just hurting in different ways.”

“I’m not.” I stepped away from him, irritated that he thought I was someone to be pitied. I sympathized with Carlos’s story, but unlike his sister, I was not a druggie or a prostitute. There were no fractures in me. I was completely and totally fine.

He studied my face. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t,” I said quickly and then played with the loose curls falling over my shoulder. “Is your sister the reason you know so much about this guy?”

For a minute, I thought he’d continue to exhort my brokenness but he surprised me by answering the question. “Yes. I was supposed to graduate the week she died. I flew home to attend her funeral instead.” He ran a hand through his thick hair. “Her death messed up my parents. Messed
me
up. I’ve been following as much of the case as I can. An old colleague of mine works in the police department. He gives me information in exchange for …” His voice petered off.

Understanding dawned. “In exchange for money.” I stared at his guilt stamped face. “You give him money. That’s why you work at the club on top of your day job.”

He shrugged. “Teaching can barely keep the lights on, much less pay for classified information.”

“Wow,” I blinked. “Just wow. But how did you know he’d target
Mickey’s
?”

Carlos shook his head. “I didn’t. I want to catch this guy as much as anyone but even with all the information I’ve gathered, I can’t seem to get a read on his patterns.”

I stepped back. “What do you plan to do if you get your wish?”

Carlos replied with not a lick of hesitation. “I’m gonna kill him.”

I woke up the next morning to the bright strains of sunlight shifting through the windows. My back arched as I stretched and enjoyed the cushiony softness of the mattress beneath me. A big yawn cracked my jaw. I opened my eyes, expecting to see the elements of my bedroom – sky blue walls, brown mahogany dresser, full length mirror.

Instead, I saw two, large French doors opening up to a balcony. Hardwood floors covered the ground. A large dresser, a wooden ceiling fan, and a large closet were unfamiliar elements in an unfamiliar room. Where was I? For a minute I panicked, imagining that the Executioner had truly taken me as he had in my dreams last night.

I pushed off the mattress quickly, my long hair trailing my back as I did so. It wasn’t until I caught the scent of bacon in the air that I recalled my current location. Carlos had pulled me to his car last night and insisted I stay at his place. We’d talked well into the night, moving from the heavy topic of the serial killer and his sister’s death to our families, our experiences and our dreams.

Despite his gruff exterior, Carlos was surprisingly funny. I imagined all the female teachers and students at his school swooning when he walked by. The Bartender Carlos – the one that worked  at the club, carried himself with a manner that said ‘back off’ – but beneath the roughness of his large frame beat a teddy bear. I wondered why it had taken me so long to see it.

After washing my face and gurgling some water in my mouth to offset my morning breath, I padded to the kitchen downstairs. The house was quite large and tastefully decorated. I felt almost guilty for even being in here, especially understanding Heather’s struggles.

Carlos’s parents had migrated to the States after their daughter passed and had given their son the two-story dwelling by the sea. I’d had no idea that Carlos’s family was so well-off until he’d spoken of his father’s businesses last night. It made me wonder why he’d chosen a career like teaching.

“Hey,” The object of my thoughts greeted.

“Hi,” I smiled shyly. It was strange. I could dance in front of hundreds of strangers. I could take my clothes off and climb a pole to fulfill the fantasies of men, but standing here, with most of my makeup gone and in a plain white T-shirt, I felt more exposed than I’d ever been.

“Sleep well?” Carlos inquired.

I shrugged. It was a miracle that I’d managed to sleep at all. Severed heads staked on sticks was enough to fuel my nightmares for a while.

Carlos set a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon on the table. Sheepishly, he pointed to it, his bronzed cheeks growing a little red as he infused indifference into his tone. “I’m not a very good cook, but I made breakfast. In case you were hungry.”

“Thank you,” I smiled. I was genuinely touched. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had cooked breakfast for me. When I slept over at Manuel’s, I was usually in charge of getting my own breakfast.

“It’s nothing,” he rubbed the back of his neck. I watched the muscles in his forearms bulge for a minute before averting my eyes.

Carlos was excruciatingly handsome. He was protective, kind and – I bit into the eggs – a great cook. And he’d done it all for me. Was it possible? Did this normally stoic, grim, teacher-turned-bartender
like
me?

“Do you mind if I eat with you?” He inquired, dishing out another plate.

“No, not at all.” I replied as he set his own plate beside me on the island and took a seat on the barstool.

“What are your plans for today?” Carlos asked as he dipped his fork into the serving.

“I have group work this afternoon and then I’ll probably head home to catch up on my cleaning.”

He frowned. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“It’s Sunday. I have commitments.”

“That guy’s still out there.”

“You don’t have to remind me,” I rubbed the wrinkles forming in my forehead. “But I can’t put my life on hold because of fear.”

“I’ll come with you then.”

“You have school tomorrow.”

“I don’t care.”

“I’m not going to do that to you, Carlos.” I insisted. “I’m a grown woman and I yeah, I’m freaking out but what am I supposed to do, live with you forever?”

“There’s plenty of room!”

I studied his face. The man was serious. I shook my head. “I’m going home. All my books are there, my clothes.” I pulled at the hem of his loaner T-shirt, “I can rock anything but this might be pushing it too far.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“I know,” I picked at what was left of my breakfast. “I just… don’t want to put you out.”

“What’s this all really about?” Carlos turned toward me and put his elbow on the granite counter.

I swiveled the seat, avoiding his eyes. “It’s nothing.”

He cleared his throat. “You know, I may not have known you for very long, but for the past few months, I’ve watched you, Jade.”

I tilted my head and laughed.

He reddened. “Not like that. I mean, I’ve noticed but…” his lips tilted up, “Geez, you are something else.”

“I’m sorry,” I waved my hands, “carry on.”

He turned serious. “What are you doing with that guy Manuel?”

Stiffening slightly, I tapped my fingers against the cold island, “that’s none of your business.”

“I know,” He quickly lifted his arms in surrender. “I don’t have a right to butt in –”

“So, don’t.” I snapped.

“Why are you getting so defensive?” Carlos folded his massive arms in front of his chest as a smug smile played on his condescending, obnoxious face. He thought he knew everything? I understood that his overbearing, protective routine came from the trauma of losing his sister but this was pushing it.