Wrinkles form across Kieran’s forehead. Using his finger, he gestures me to follow him into the hall just outside the guestroom, Kieran runs both of his hands through his hair before slipping them into his pockets. His tongue darting out to lick his lips before leaning into me closer.
“You can’t just set her outside, she’s obviously troubled,” Kieran states, pulling one of his hands from his pocket, he gestures to the woman. “What if her body is found around the corner tomorrow, you want that on your conscience?”
Biting my tongue, I glare at him. Now we suddenly have a conscience after all the shit we’ve done together, this is when we start thinking like a normal civilized person?
“What about a shelter?” I suggest. They can take her in and get her the help she needs.
Kieran begins to walk to the front door, shaking his head, Leona right behind him.
“Getting her out of that room is going to be like putting a cat into a bath. There’s something out there far worse than you, my brother, and I hate to say it but… good luck.” He gives me a sympathetic look.
“I can’t have her here!” I shout, my anger and emotions beginning to take over. I’m not safe either, doesn’t anyone see that?
“Forget trying to get her out.” Leona laughs. “By the looks of it, you won’t forget a woman like her, not easily anyway,” Leona says with a smile.
Kieran opens the door, letting Leona go first. Their parting just as cryptic as his fucking help.
My back against the wall, I slide to the floor, hands in my hair. My heart is beating so hard I can hear it in my own ears. I’m frustrated and dare I say, scared, to have her here. I don’t trust myself. My anger comes out of nowhere and I can’t control it, what if she pisses me off? What if I hurt her? Usually I channel my emotions through working with Kieran, beating people who owe us money, killing even. But with Kieran gone, and my position unknown in the DeAngelo crew… I have no outlet for the storm that is surely to come.
5
Romeo
Waking up this morning, I slide my watch on my wrist and nearly trip over the security box I put my gun in last night. Yawning, I look around the room, it’s quiet but I don’t see the girl. Standing, I raise my arms above my head and stretch. Walking to my dresser, I put my cross necklace on, silently praying God helps me become a better person today, and walk out of the room, past my chair and the kitchen, and I crack open the guest bedroom door.
She sits on the bed, her legs crossed, back toward me and stares out the window in a trance. Her hair is parted and braided, reminding me of Sailor Moon from when Kieran and I were kids. She was my first crush. How could she not with that short skirt, long braided pigtails, and driven courage.
“Did you get any sleep?” I ask, and her back tenses. She doesn’t reply. This silence shit is getting really annoying. “Are you hungry?”
Her head moves to the side just slightly, but not enough to where her eyes meet mine. Having to read her through her body language I’m assuming that small movement means she is hungry. I wish she would just talk to me, it’d make shit easier. Shutting the door, I head to the kitchen and start pulling out ingredients for eggs and pancakes.
Putting the skillet on the stove, I try not to think about what I’m going to do with her today, or if I’m still taking the position as underboss. I want to walk away but even I know it’s sucide. The uncertainty has my anxiety rising, making my muscles flex. I’m overwhelmed and want to lash out, break something.
I’m going to focus on making these pancakes and eggs, and take it one step at a time. Right. You got this. Calm your shit.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, I get to work.
The Girl
Sitting on the bed, my heart beats so fast I feel light-headed. Swallowing, I stare at the sun high in the sky, daylight, something I didn’t get to see much of. I want to feel it on my skin, maybe get a sunburn. I haven’t had the sun kiss my cheeks since I was a kid. Staring into the hard sun, I remember that day well.
Swinging as high as I can, I pump my legs back and forth, back and forth. My mom’s boyfriend, Poppy, pushing me. That’s not his real name, but that’s what he told me to call him when I first met him. “Higher, Poppy!” I giggle.
“You go any higher, you’re going to land on the sun!” He chuckles. A family walks by, a little boy looking at me and Poppy. He looks just like the man following him, his daddy. I don’t have a daddy, but Poppy is as close to one.
“Okay guys, we’ve been here for hours, I’m exhausted,” my mom says, walking across the pavement in her heels. She’s the prettiest mom here, always wearing a shiny dress, red lipstick, and curly hair.
Poppy grabs the chains of the swings, slowing me to a full stop. When I get off, I still feel as if I’m in the swing, flying.
“Hey Mom, can Poppy be my dad?”
My mother’s face goes pale as she looks at him. He smiles and rubs
