Dirty Nails (10 page)

              Some secrets were better left untold.

Thirteen- Getaway

              Aroused from my sleep I found Sketch’s face only inches from mine. His hand slipped over my mouth to keep me from screaming out.

              “Don’t scream.” He whisper yelled. “We are getting out of here. Get up.”

              He removed his fingers from my lips. “It’s probably another false alarm. I don’t want to go to the basement.” I whined.

              “No one is intruding. I’m taking you away from here. Get up, get dressed, and do it quietly.”

              “Sketch, what’s going on? I’m not leaving.”

              “You have to leave. Do you want to get out of this house or not? We only have one chance.”

              “I’m so confused.” I rose from my pillow. “What are you talking about one chance? Why are we leaving? Where’s Max?”

              “There is no time to explain. If we are going then we have to go now.”

              “I’m not going anywhere.”

              “God dammit, Shay. Listen to me. I am giving you your out. We have to go now.”

              “Max just asked me to marry him last night. He promised he’d take me out of here on a trip. If I’m going anywhere, it’s with him.” Sketch had lost it. There must’ve been something in the water around this damn house.

              “You are pretty fucking stupid if you believe him.” He slammed his palm down on my bed. “He just beat the shit out of you three days ago, and you just up and forgave him like it’s no big thing. Why do you think he promised you the one thing that you want, huh?”

             
So that I would forgive him.
I shook my head. “No, you’re wrong.”

              “Am I? Because I sure as hell don’t think so.”

              “I don’t know you Sketch. For all I know you could be just as bad as him, and maybe you are getting me out of this house so you can kill me. You were probably involved in the killing of my parents too.”

              “I told you I wasn’t. Do you want your answers?”

              “Yes,” I nearly jumped off the bed. I gripped my side because the pain was awful.

              “Then let’s go. I’ll tell you everything.”

              “About my parents?” I asked.

              “Whatever you want to know, but we can’t stay here. You have to go with me now.”

              Go with Sketch?

              Oh God.

              What was I about to do?

              “Max will kill us, Sketch?”

              “No he won’t. I promise.” He pulled me close to him and looked me straight in my eyes. “I promise, Sadie.”

              My name. He called me by my real name. My knees were trembling, but it was clear to me what I had to do.

              “Okay, I’ll go.”

              “Put on some pants and grab a couple of things only the most important.”

              I reached into my bedside drawer and pulled out my journal and bag of nails. They were the only things that belonged to me, and the only things I needed.

              Sketch stood by and waited as I got dressed. I could not believe what I was doing. I was blindly putting my faith into the hands of someone who could quite possibly be my enemy. I was taking the biggest leap of faith, and it could cost me everything. Including my life.

              He took my hand and led me down the hallway. I had no idea how we were going to get out alive, but he was on a mission. He rushed me through several rooms that appeared to be empty.

              When we passed by the men’s game room I thought for sure we’d be caught, but no one was there. Then I realized that there was surveillance and a guard that would be waiting for us outside. I had no idea what he had planned for that, but he kept pulling me along in that direction. We walked right outside the front doors, as if we could just leave anytime we damn well pleased. Which was highly unlikely.

              My hand was still locked in his when he closed the front door quietly. The guard that should have been standing right at the gate was now leaning up against it asleep.

             
No fucking way.

             
This had to be some sort of crazy messed up dream.

              I don’t know how he pulled this off, but he did. Tomorrow though, we were good as dead.

              I’m not sure how long we walked along the stretch of road in front of the house, but I didn’t care. The wind was different. It smelled different. It felt different. It was undeniably the greatest wind I’d ever felt. I could breathe.

              Sketch’s hand stayed wrapped around mine, and he barely said anything as we walked. He mumbled a lot, and occasionally he’d tell me to keep up. He had a hold of my hand so there was no way I couldn’t keep up, but I never said anything back.

              We finally came to the end of the street. I had never been in this direction before. Max had always taken a left out of the driveway of the house. Everything to the right was unknown.

              A car was parked off the side of the road just ahead of us. The lights were on, and Sketch told me that they were waiting on us.

              A man dressed all in black (the same as Sketch) jumped out and opened the back door. His eyes were familiar when they landed on mine, but I said nothing. I was tired. My ribs were hurting from the fast paced walking we’d just done, and I was in terrible need of some water. Sketch helped me inside the vehicle and climbed in next to me.

              There were a few words exchanged between the men, but I paid no attention to them. I was exhausted. The only thing my ears heard was the rumbling of the vehicle and my heavy breathing.

              The man in the front handed Sketch a bottle of water, but I snatched it up. My throat was so dry, and I needed it.

              “Easy,” Sketch said as I turned the bottle up to my lips.

              What I thought was water, was some very strong alcohol and I nearly choked trying to get it down.

              Sketch laughed, and I think the other men did too, but I didn’t care.

              “Here,” the man in the front said. “This one was yours.”

              He handed me a real bottle of water. One that hadn’t even been opened. “Thanks.” I said.

              I drank half of it before putting the top back on and leaning back against the seat.

              Sketch reached for and took my hand once more, and I felt at ease. That was the last thing I remembered before drifting off to sleep.

Fourteen- Someone else’s home

              There were voices all around me, and I didn’t want to open my eyes. I wanted everything that was playing out in my head to be one big crazy dream. Something was wrong. They were arguing. Was I supposed to hear? I kept my eyes shut and listened.

              “I did what I had to do.” I heard Sketch say. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.

              “She has no idea what’s going on, and dammit you’re going to be the one to tell her.” The other man said.

              “Fine.”

              “Hell Sketch, we all wanted her back, but look at her. This is not the same girl. She’s different. I’m glad you kept her safe, but now what do we do about Max. He was your job, not her. At least not until after the job was done.”

              “I know okay. I screwed up all the plans, but we’ll figure out a new one. Just give me a couple of days with her. She needs me.”

              I needed him. What the hell? I was so confused.

              “I’m not sure that we have a couple of days. As soon as Max finds out she’s gone, which I’m sure he already knows, all hell is going to break loose.” The man spoke again.

              “I don’t give a fuck. I’m still going to finish the job. I don’t care where I have to do it.” Sketch said, and I wondered what job he was talking about.

              Shit, I had to cough.

              Great, now they knew I was awake.

              My eyes fluttered open. The light in the room was dim, but I could see that I was lying on a couch in the middle of someone’s living room. I didn’t know whose. I didn’t recognize the place, but I don’t see how I could. I’d never been inside anyone else’s home. At least not since I’d been with Max. It was all very new.

              Sketch leaned over the couch and looked down at me. It startled me at first, but there was a comfort there. I was glad that he was with me. It was a little less scary that way. Their words had shaken me a bit though. I had absolutely no idea what was going on and I needed someone to start explaining.

              “What’s going on, Sketch? You promised that you’d tell me.”

              He sighed heavily. “I will, but you just woke up and I think you need to eat something first.”

              I sat up and tossed the covers away from my legs. When I looked around the room, I noticed that we weren’t alone. An older man stood to my right and he had a very intense look in his eyes.

              I shied away, because I had no idea who the hell he was. Anyone could be my enemy at this point.

              “Hello, Sadie,” the man said. I looked up at Sketch. Everyone knew my real name, and I was even more confused.

              “You know my real name.” I said without saying hello back.

              He smiled. “Yes, of course I do.”

              “What the fuck is going on?” I blurted out. The two guys laughed like I meant it as something funny. I didn’t. “I’m fucking serious.” I was beyond pissed at this point.

              “I’m Bram,” the man said through his chuckle.

              I knew my mouth was hanging open, but there were no words. This was the man that used to visit my father, the man that was enemies with Max.

              “I’ll explain it all to you very soon. It’s a big fucking mess, and I need some food before we get into it,” was all that Sketch said, before grabbing my hand and helping me up off of the couch.

              The man that called himself Bram nodded at me before leaving the room. He didn’t offer me any kind of explanation, and he didn’t ask any questions.

              “You can have any kind of cereal you want, because I don’t cook.” Sketch pointed to the cabinet. He reached in and pulled out a box of Trix.

              “Trix are for kids you know.”

              He stood there with a shit-eating grin on his face. This big beasty man was about to eat a bowl of colorful cereal.

              “Want some?” He popped a dry piece into his mouth.

              How could I resist those eyes and that smile?

              “Sure.”

              “See, you’re a kid too.” He stuck out his tongue.

              “What did you do with Sketch?”

              There was a sneaky gleam in his eyes when he looked at me. “It’s amazing how much better mood you get in when you’re not having to watch your back.”

             
Touché’

              Although, I still didn’t feel like I could be myself. I didn’t know what was going on around here, and until I knew the truth I couldn’t let my guard down.

              He carried our bowls to the table. “Do you live here? I mean when you’re not at Max’s?” I asked. It sounded like a safe enough question.

              “Yes.” He shoveled in a spoon full of cereal. “This is my home, and Bram’s. I live with him. I have for the last ten years or so.”

              “Are you his kid?”

              “No, but close enough.”

              His answer was vague, but I didn’t push my luck.

              “How are you feeling?” He asked me.

              “My ribs are a little sore, but I feel okay. Hey, how did you know the guard would be asleep at Max’s?”

              I hadn’t asked him last night when we passed the guy, because I was in such a hurry to just get out of there.

              “I slipped a little something into their drinks during the meeting last night.”

              “What? How?”

              “The maid helped.”

              That was why Max had drifted off to sleep so easily while I was in there. I couldn’t believe it.

              “Why would Max’s maid help you?”

              I released a deep breath. “I told her I was getting you out of there, and she wanted to do anything she could to help. She was my only ally in the house, and I was unsure if I could get her on my side. Turns out she loved you.”

              My damn head was spinning around and around.

              “I’m so confused, Sketch.”

              I slammed my head down onto the table in front of me, trying to wrap my head around everything that had happened. I felt like I was going through the motions. Everything was a blur, and I had never felt more lost than in that moment. I desperately wished that I had my parents there with me. At least then I wouldn’t have felt so lost.

              I felt his hand on the back of my head. It was light but it felt like he was petting me, as if I were an upset child. That was probably what I looked like, but the thought alone was nice. It felt good to have him there since I had no one else to take care of me.

              “Come on, I want to show you something.” Sketch said and I followed him out of the room. He led me to the back of the house. It was a large place, but nothing like the size of Max’s. He opened the wooden door that led into a bedroom. His bedroom.

              Hesitantly, I stepped forward following him inside. The light from the window was shining in lighting up the room. It was a nice room, very clean.

              “This is my room.”

              I nodded. I figured as much. “It’s clean.”

              “Yeah,” he laughed. “It is.”

              I tiptoed around the room, careful not to disturb anything. He didn’t have much, but I noticed a few pictures on top of the armoire. I inched my way there.

              “Stop.”

              I stopped in my tracks.

              “Not stop walking. I meant stop tiptoeing. I’m not Max. You’re not some prisoner.”

              Ouch.

              I nodded my head, but his words had cut deep. “Is that what you think? That I was some prisoner? I wasn’t. That was my home. He kept me safe.”

              “You’re delusional.”

              “Excuse me.”

              “He fucking brainwashed you or something. You were a prisoner there. He made you bow down to him, and you did. It was sick to watch.”

              “He was my life, Sketch. He took care of me when my parents died. I was safe with him. You only got to see the bad things, not the good.”

              “If you think that there is anything good about that man than you’re no better then he is. He’s a killer Sadie.”

              “And you’re no better.” The words slipped out of my mouth and I immediately regretted them.

              He took two long strides across the floor at me and I backed myself up against the wall.

              “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” My face flinched.

              “I’m not going to hit you dammit. God, when are you going to see that?” He growled and dropped his arm down by his side. He mumbled low under his breath, and I took a deep breath. I couldn’t look him in the face. I felt bad for what I said, and I didn’t want to see any kind of hurt on his face.

              The side of my face was against the wall and when I looked up, I finally caught sight of one of the photos on his dresser.

              My heart started to race in my chest. I rushed over and grabbed the frame from where it sat.

              My hand flew to my mouth. It was Cora, my friend Cora that I used to hang out with as a child. The photo was taken a long time ago. She looked to be about the same age as she was the last time I saw her. She sat next to her brother. I’d completely forgotten about him. He wasn’t around very much when we were little. Always with his dad I supposed.

              “This is Cora. Why do you have this?”

              “That’s me in the picture. Cora’s my sister.”

              “What?” I looked at the picture again. There weren’t many similarities. Maybe those eyes, but that boy in the picture was nothing like the man that stood next to me. I couldn’t understand how I had not known this. That changed so many things. I looked into his eyes and then back at the picture. He was like family, or he was back then. Surely he wasn’t bad, but truthfully I didn’t know.

              I missed Cora. I walked over to the bed and sat down. The picture was still in my hands. I couldn’t stop looking at it. She was my friend. We played together. Our moms were such good friends. His mom.

              “Where is she, Sketch? I want to see her? Do you think she’ll remember me?”

              Her dark brown curls were pulled up into a high ponytail. She was so cute. Her face had these cute little freckles that sprinkled across her nose. I wondered what she must look like today.

              I finally pulled my eyes away from the photo to find Sketch with a blank stare. His eyes were staring off somewhere. He wasn’t with me. He was lost somewhere in space.

              “Sketch,” I called out to him.

              “She’s dead. So is my mom.”

              Oh my God. Both of them were gone, Flori and Cora.

              “I’m so sorry.” the tears welled up in my eyes. “What happened?”

              I went over to him and reached for his hand. I felt like we had some unspoken connection between us.

              I could feel the air buzzing around us. My fingers tingled against his. His thumb gently rubbed mine, his eyes locked on our hands. The rise and fall of his chest fell into sync with my own. Nothing mattered around us. I wanted to wrap myself around him and feel his skin against mine.

              He lightly tugged on my hand and I stumbled a little closer. It was just what I was waiting for. I wanted some little sign that it was okay for me to touch him. Without any warning at all, I threw myself hard against his chest wrapping my arms around his neck.

              He made an “oomph” sound but hugged me back.

              Hard.

              It wasn’t sexual; it was what each of us needed and longed for. We shared a loss and I cried on his shoulder. I wasn’t the same as before, when I first lost my parents this was like crying on a loved ones shoulder. It was different than the way it was with Max.

              Sketch was so big that he enveloped me in his arms. I felt like I wanted to hide there forever.

              When we finally released each other I felt lost, like I never wanted to be away from his arms. They felt safe to me. My instincts were telling me that he was good. That he needed me like I needed him, and that leaving with him was the right thing to do. I just wanted my proof.

              “What happened to your Mom and Cora?” I asked again.

              “You may want to sit down. This is a long story.”

              I made myself comfortable on the bed, while he went to get my things. 

              He sat my bag of nails on the bed in front of me, when he joined me. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

              “You’re going to need those.”