Kin

“Pete…”

He did as she asked and handed it over.

“You want me to come with you?”

“No.” Shrugging on his jacket, she hurried to the door. “Stay here,” she said without looking back, then jerked open the door of the apartment.

A shadow stepped in front of her, blocking her path, but she was still looking back at Pete and hadn’t yet noticed.

The boy froze, felt a word of warning rush up his throat but it died before it hit the air, drowned out by Louise’s scream as the man pushed his way into the apartment and slammed the door shut behind him.

“Please…don’t…” Louise said, her voice brittle with panic.

“Shut your goddamn mouth,” the man said, and as Pete’s eyes adjusted, he could see that his initial assumption that it was Wayne he was looking at, perhaps angry because of something the men down in the street had said to him, was wrong. This man was shorter, thinner, and his voice higher in pitch than Wayne’s had been. Also, though Pete hadn’t studied Wayne too closely, he was sure he hadn’t had a gun.

“Red,” Louise said, cinching her robe even tighter and hugging herself. “Wayne ain’t here.”

Red looked furtively around the darkened apartment, as if following the path of an agitated bird. “I know he ain’t,” he said tersely. “Your boy’s down there in the street with a big hole in his chest.

Louise said nothing, but started to shake her head.

Pete stood rooted to the spot with fear. He was unable to register what he’d just heard. Wayne, the man who had taken his mother away from him had gone out to buy cigarettes, or to talk to those men, and now he was lying down there shot? He couldn’t quite understand how or why that had happened, and wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it if it was true. His attention was fixed on the man with the gun, and Louise, who looked terrified.

“The fuck’s this?” the gunman said, jerking the weapon in Pete’s direction.

Louise didn’t answer.

“The fuck’re you?” he asked again, looking at Pete.

“I… Louise is my second Mom.”

“Dayum,” said Red, and raised the hand holding the gun to chuckle into his wrist before leveling it at Pete. “You think you’re some kind of hero? You thinkin’ about messin’ my shit up in here?”

Pete shook his head. “No, sir.”

Red smiled, his teeth gleaming a dull metallic color in the gloom. “That’s right. Yes sir. You don’t fuck with me, we all be cool, geddit?”

“Why are you doin’ this?” Louise asked between sobs. Her head was lowered. “Why are you here?”

Red turned his attention back to her. “Take a seat. You and the kid. Sit down on that sofa and get comfortable. Wayne’s got somethin’ I need. Once I get it, I’ll be on my way, and then you can go back to playin’ house with my little homeboy here.”

Louise didn’t move.

“Hey babe?” Red said, leaning in close.

Slowly she raised her head to look at him.

“Do what I fuckin’ tell you to do,” he said, and in a flash, his hand was in her hair. He pulled hard and sent her sprawling across the arm of the couch. Instinctively, Pete made to move forward, whether to help her or tackle the man who had hurt her, he wasn’t sure. His insides were on fire, his whole body quaking with the need to do something. And that something was fueled by anger at what he had just seen.

“Don’t hurt her,” he told Red. “Don’t you put your hands on her again.”

Red smiled and raised his hands. “Easy there, Shaft. Just helpin’ her out is all. She don’t hear too good. You know how bitches are. All mouth.”

“Don’t touch her,” Pete said again. “She ain’t done nothin’ to you.”

“Not yet,” Red said, and began to move toward where Pete still stood fists clenched by his sides, trembling. “But who knows where the night might lead.”

As the man approached him, Pete tensed himself for the same pain he had managed to forgive when it came from the fists of his father, and was surprised when the man veered away and stopped before the television set.

“Let’s see what’s on,” Red said, and took a step back. Pete’s eyes fell to the man’s gun, which was now close enough for him to grab if he wanted to. But as if sensing his intention, the man looked over his shoulder at him. “Go help your Momma, kid, or I’ll put so many holes in you you’ll look like a salt shaker.”

Pete did as he was told. He sat down on the couch and watched as the man reared back and launched a kick at the TV screen. It toppled from its stand but did not shatter. Red kicked it again, harder this time, and the glass exploded under his heel with a dull whump. Blue sparks sizzled and hissed. A thin wreath of smoke rose from the exposed hole in the front of the TV.

From his pocket, Red produced a small pen-sized object, thumbed it and a thin ray of light pierced the smoke. Despite his fear and anger, Pete was curious. He’d never seen such a small flashlight before, and immediately felt the urge to ask the man to let him see it. An urge he quickly repressed. Instead, he put his hand on Louise’s back as she straightened and sat on the arm of the couch. She was sniffling and rubbing her nose. He wanted to tell her it was going to be all right, that any minute now the man would leave them alone, but he wasn’t sure that was true, and didn’t want to lie. So he said nothing, and watched as the man fished something out of the guts of the TV.

“All right,” Red said appreciatively, and quickly pocketed the item, which had looked to Pete like a small pouch of some kind. Then once more, the man’s attention turned to them.

“See, now that wasn’t such a big deal, right?” Red asked as he approached them, stepping over Pete’s long legs to get to Louise. “Hey,” he said, and she raised her head to look at him. Her mascara had run, making her eyes seem hollow and empty.

“Wayne told me you said he was lazy. That made him feel real bad, you know.” He smiled, revealing the lie in his words. “So he came to me, and I hooked the brother up. He made some good money.” He patted his pocket. “Trouble with that piece of shit was he was greedy, and the boys he workin’ for don’t tolerate that, know what I’m sayin?”

“He was your cousin,” Louise said.

Red shrugged. “Yeah, but shit, I didn’t cap ’im. I ain’t that cold, Louise.”

“So what now? You just goin’ to walk outta here after what you’ve done. You just goin’ to leave us here to talk to the cops?” Her voice, though unsteady, was rising, as anger told hold. “Or are you gonna do what the other thugs told you to do and kill us both?”

Red stared at her for a moment, then glanced at Pete. “Get your ass up for a sec.” He waggled the gun and Pete rose from the couch and moved back toward the shattered TV, which was still trailing smoke. Red sat in his place and put his hand on Louise’s knee. Instantly, she snatched it and shoved it away. In response, he shoved the muzzle of the gun up under her chin, forcing her head back. Louise bared her teeth, the muscles in her neck visible even in the feeble light. Again, instinct propelled Pete toward them, but Red spoke without looking at him. “Lot easier for me to pull this trigger than it will be for you to try to fight me, kid.”

Pete stopped, agonized by helplessness.

* * *

Louise grunted against the strain, her eyes fixed on Pete. Stay where you are. Do as he says and we’ll be fine. But nothing was going to be fine. She knew it, and she knew Pete knew it. Here, in this cold dank apartment in a frozen city she hated, she was going to die, along with the boy who’d escaped his own misery to find her.

Still holding the gun under her chin, Red brought his other hand up and slipped it inside her robe. She flinched. His hands were cold, his skin rough. She closed her eyes. “Stop,” she pleaded, weakly. The urge to strike out at him was great, but she knew she would not get very far before he pulled the trigger and ended her life.

“Told you I ain’t gonna hurt you,” Red said as he massaged her breast. “But today, maybe tomorrow, someone you don’t know’s probably gonna stop by and do what I ain’t got it in me to do, know what I’m sayin’?