Black (10 page)

“Still feel the need?” he asks, and I shake my head. I don’t think it’s even in my head anymore. All that’s there in this moment is filled with him.

“No,” I whisper. “It’s really you?” We shared such a connection. I’ve never shared a connection with someone so strong. I was so young and I didn’t understand it. I knew I liked him, more than any of the other boys my age. Boys didn’t interest me back then, but he did and I didn’t understand why. Was it the bad boy cliché I wanted? Or was it purely him?

“You remember me?” he asks, searching my eyes.

“How could I forget?”

“People tend to forget me. It’s in their nature.” My heart breaks. I believe his words, believe people do. What fools they are. What pitiful, shameful fools!

“Never.” My head shakes back and forth. I want to touch him again, but I don’t get the chance as he turns his head and finishes tagging my name. I just stand there and watch. He adds a black rose, a black rose the same as he added last time we were together. I understand it better now. He’s black, and I’m the rose.

“I want to touch you,” I say, now inches from his back. I can smell him. He smells deliriously delicious. I want to hold him, bury my head in his chest and listen to his heart, taking in his scent all day.

My hand reaches out, his body turns around. My hand touches his chest and his eyes watch mine, I notice the restraint he’s holding. I’m barely touching him, my hand only feathering his chest. I don’t quite understand it. Understand how someone could not want the basic human instinct of touch. He seems to think it’s poisonous. A touch that seems painfully real to him, like my touch will inflict nothing but pain.

My hand holds tighter, clinging to him even more. I take a step forward. Closing the distance between us, his hand places itself on top of mine, holding me to him. His now dark green eyes with dark specs through them don’t look me in the face. He looks anywhere and everywhere but at my face.

My second hand goes up and I place it above his heart. He flinches and steps backward so fast that I’m left standing with my hands in the air.

“We can’t do that,” he says, walking away, back to the car. I look back at my name, then the rose. A smile forms on my face, and then I follow him back to the car.

We drive in silence. He stares straight ahead, never sparing me a glance. I can’t keep my eyes off of him. He gives me butterflies in a good kind of way. His looks, his mystery, his presentation. All of it draws me in, and again, I think it’s the cliché bad boy thing I’m looking for. I double guess myself, because I don’t even see that when I look at him. I see a man, a man who cares, even when he shouldn’t. A man who’s broken, but will fix others. A man that hides in all his blackness, even taking the name to seem deadlier, which I’m sure he doesn’t need.

“Liam,” I finally say his name, that name hasn’t left my lips for ten years. It feels good. His head swings to me, and his face tightens.

“It’s Black,” he says, correcting me, then turning back to the road.

“Not to me you’re not. Just Liam…” I smile, feeling giddy. Why does he give me those feelings? He catches me smiling, shakes his head, and turns into Casey’s driveway. He stops and doesn’t move, doesn’t even turn the car off.

“I think it's best if we don’t contact each other. Lose my number,” he says, keeping his eyes peeled ahead. I open the door, stepping out. I turn to him before I shut the door, but he doesn’t look at me.

“Not happening,” I reply. His head swings to me and I slam the door and walk to the front door. I hear him pull away with a tire squeal just as I open the door.

“Where have you been? I’ve been ringing you non-stop,” she cries, wrapping her arms around me. She seems worried, it makes me feel wanted that she may actually care more than she did previously.

“Didn’t take my phone. No one usually cares where I am anyway.” She pulls me back, her face now in my face. Sax is behind her and shakes his head at her, but smiles.

“Of course I care. For all I know, that fine piece of ass could’ve taken you to the woods and chopped you into tiny pieces,” she huffs out, releasing me, crossing her arms over her chest.

“He does have a fine ass, doesn’t he?” I smile, which pulls a smile from her.

“Yeah, and all that dark and
‘don’t fuck with me’
exterior actually makes him that much hotter.” She fans herself dramatically and Sax grunts from behind her.

“He’s dangerous,” Sax says, standing, not moving.

Casey waves a hand at him, blowing him off. “They said the same about you, and look where we are now… I’m knocked up with a ring on my finger.” Her hand flies to her mouth, and she turns to me biting her lip and worry lines appearing on her forehead. “I’m so sorry, Rose,” she says. I wave her off.

“Its fine, don’t worry. I’m happy for you.” I smile. She knows my situation with Roger.
The bastard.

“You’re pregnant?” Sax asks, clearly shocked. Casey’s eyes go furiously wide in front of me. “Whoops…” she says, turning around. “Sorry, baby, I planned to tell you tonight.” I sneak past them and go to the spare room, which I can’t stay in for much longer now, now that she’ll be having a baby of her own. I hear Sax cheer and Casey giggle in delight. I lay on my bed, smiling at them and pick up my phone, planning to send one last message before I drift off to sleep.

Me:
When can I see you again? Can we meet up? Please. x

“You…” he stutters, shock coating his face. He doesn’t know me but knows of me. Knew I was here for him, to take him away from this thing he calls a life. My gun is in my left hand, my finger on the trigger, ready to be pulled.

“Why?” he asks, looking around desperately for help. There’s no one here. I made sure of that before I set this up. This hit is my only one this week. I didn’t lie to my body man when I told him I’d be taking things slower. My phone hasn’t stopped. My name and number are being spread faster—almost time to change the number I think.

I don’t know his story, I choose not to. I like these cases better, not knowing helps me sleep at night. Helps me not to care. This is a job, a job where I do not need to know all the details.

“Are you ready?” I ask him. The safety goes off, and my hand goes up. His head is now full blown shaking and words keep leaving his lips over and over, “No… no… no…”

“I will pay you whatever they are. Triple…” he says in between head shakes. That’s not how I roll. I don’t do it for the money. Yes, it’s a big factor. I charge more now than I did when I first started. I don’t go back on my contracts, no matter how much money is thrown in afterward or how much begging goes on.

“Say your prayers.” My finger pulls down, the gun goes off. The man drops to the floor. He wasn’t old, mid to late thirties I would guess. Fit, just not smart. Blood oozes from his head wound, his eyes wide open staring at the black sky above us. I grab a black tarp, roll him in it, and move his body over. I throw bleach over his blood then call my clean-up crew.

Another job done, another piece of my soul chipped away.

Another calling card left.

Her text sits on my phone. It’s been all week. I haven’t answered her or even when she tried calling yesterday. It won’t do her any good to contact me or be in touch with me. Nothing good comes from me, the blood on my hands only goes to prove that.

Jake walks through my door. I’m not even home for ten minutes when his voice calls out. He walks in, Stella behind him. I shake my head and watch as she walks to him and wraps her hands around his mid-section. She eyes me like she’s looking for a reaction, one she won’t get.

“Got your pussy, brother?” Jake asks, tapping her ass. She squeals and I turn my head back to finish washing my hands.

“Have it,” I reply.

“Some chick’s been asking about you,” Jake says. I dry my hands clean and nod my head to the door for Stella to leave. She doesn’t listen and Jake removes her arms from him.

“Car,” he says, looking at her then straight back to me. She cries out in frustration and slams the door when she walks out. “That bitch is crazy! How do I get rid of her?” I want to laugh at him, but he looks at the door then back to me.

“Good luck with that one.”

“Yeah, she’s a great fuck, but a mind fuck if you know what I mean?” He picks up a beer a starts drinking it. “Keeps on going on about you being in love with that chick you kidnapped.” My back straightens up, and he notices my reaction. “Oh shit! Who is she?” His hand slams down on the table, demanding an answer and wanting to know out of curiosity.

“No one,” I say, ending the conversation. Usually Jake knows me well, reads me well, except he wants to dig. He knows almost everything there is about me, so he’s not happy about not knowing who she is.

“Black…” he warns.

“Jake…” I say back.

“Just tell me this much. Is she a gymnast? If she is, can I have a turn?” My head shakes at him, always about the sex. “Come on, brother.”

“Go and take your play thing home, and don’t bring her back.”

“Give me a sec,” he says, picking up his keys and running out the door. It takes me a moment to notice movement over my left shoulder, and when I do my gun is raised straight at the intruder’s head. Hayden shakes, his eyes start to fill with tears. I lower the gun and tuck it back in my pants. Usually I wouldn’t even have it on me, but my mind is not thinking straight. It’s all over the shop.

“Your old man do that?” I ask him, reaching into the fridge to pull out juice for him. His face is bruised, worse than it usually is. He’s gotten a beating, a terrible beating. He takes the juice, wiping his tears away, his blond curls now longer than the last time I saw him.

“I hate him,” he whispers angrily. I pat his shoulder and he takes a seat on the bench, where Jake was sitting. “Is that girl gone?” he asks, looking down the stairs then back to me. I nod my head and Jake walks back through the door, stopping when he sees Hayden, then smiles and sits next to him.

“Boys slumber party, I reckon,” he says, pulling Hayden to him. Hayden smiles up at him. Jake knows his story, he’s seen him here enough.

“I don’t do slumber parties.” My mouth contours.

“Ah, shush up, you baby. Alcohol, movies, and more alcohol. How could you not want that?”

“I don’t.”

“Well, pig shit and bubble gum. And while you’re at it go and put on a pink shirt, might lift those spirits.” He chuckles to himself.

Idiot.

“Mr. Black only wears black,” Hayden pipes up. Jake looks down at him and smirks. Most kids would be afraid of him, he isn’t a friendly looking guy. He’s covered in ink, piercings through his face. Not Hayden though, he lives with demons, they assault him daily. To him we are his saviors. What a poor fucked up boy he’ll grow up to be, because we’re anything but.

“You know of Black’s mystery woman?” Jake asks him. I turn my back and grab some food out to feed the kid since he doesn’t eat well. So when he’s here he eats as much as he can.

“Yeah, she’s pretty,” he says. I roll my eyes and curse while grabbing a bag of chips and handing it to him. Jake looks up to me. Curious now. Hayden doesn’t waste any time opening the packet and eating them.

“Just tell me her name?”

“Rose…” He straightens up, he knows that name. That’s when I started hanging with him just as she left. He knows of her but doesn’t actually know her.

“The same Rose?” he asks.