Martyr Chapter 2

TWO

I looked up from my dinner as my brother came into view, signaling me to follow. I nodded a quick goodbye to Jared and went to the hallway to meet him.

“What’s-“

Instead of answering, he lead me into a side room. “Tyler messed up. He didn’t get the Stein girl.”

“What? So what happens now?”

Rhys ran a hand down his face. He’d been the boss’s right hand man for only a few months. It seems to have already aged him years. He was looking closer to 40 than approaching 30.

Kieran, I just don’t know. Peter’s getting pissed; he wants us to take more action.”

“Stein’s a senator; we have to do this right. If he gets the media involved…”

“Yeah. I know that. You know that. Antoni definitely knows that, but Peter is just plain stupid. He wants that money.”

I paced the room, frustrated. Peter was Antoni’s son, which was the only reason he remained a part of the family.

“Antoni wants to see us both. That’s all Tyler told us when he got back.” Rhys said, opening the door.

I nodded and followed behind my brother. Without speaking, we marched down the hallway to the back of the house. Antoni’s office was stashed in the back. In case of a sudden raid, police would have to search 4 wings of the house before they got to our leader. Plenty of time to get away.

As he approached the dark oak door of the office, Peter stormed out, shoving between my brother and I on his way out. Antoni and Tyler’s conversation filtered into the hallway.

“How are you feeling?” Antoni asked.

“Fuck you.”

Both Rhys and I stiffened, offended at Tyler’s language towards the boss. He was more than just the head of our family; he was a father to us.

“Look, it didn’t work alright. I’m going to try to explain it to Peter-“ Tyler started again.

“You will explain it to me.” The shift in Antoni’s voice was sharp. “I am still the head of this family. He is just my son. You may be his friend, but you still work for me.”

Ignoring his words completely, Tyler trudged out of the room.

“Incompetent prick.” Rhys mumbled.

“I’m losing control of them.” Our boss said, scrunching the wrinkles between his eyes with his hand.

My brother and I both looked to him, not wanting to agree out loud. Peter had been out of control for years. 

“What do we do about the girl?” My voice was quiet, respectfully changing the subject.

“Stein owes us a lot of money. Imagine how bad this could turn if Peter dissents. If he takes this on his own.”

Rhys shook his head.

“If we force the issue, you know he’ll take it farther.” My voice stuttered when Antoni focused his angry gaze on me. Too often lately I’d let my emotions run with my tongue, forgetting my place as Peter’s inferior.

“I know my son better than you do, Kieran. I don’t need to hear that from you.”

“Sorry, boss.”

He sighed, putting his head in his hands. Rhys and I took the signal and left the room, still not knowing what we would do about the girl.

“He doesn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“It’s my fault for not holding my tongue when it comes to Peter. But he’s going to kill this girl. He’ll send Tyler after her again and that moron will mess her up just because he got mucked it up.”

Rhys pulled my arm, shoving me into the wall of the hallway.

“You knew when we got in this business that it wasn’t fluffy bunnies and hugs, Kieran. We fucking kidnap people. We kill people.”

“But we don’t kill the people we kidnap, which makes us better than Peter’s little gang.” My tone spit the word gang out with disgust. Peter’s friends did things their own way, as if working for Peter made them immune to the rules the rest of us adhered to.

He let go of my arm, pushing me away.

“Yeah, yeah I know.” He leaned back on the wall, banging his head against it softly. “There isn’t anything we can do it about it. Just back off of Antoni about it, alright? That’s his son. Even if he is a worthless asshole.”

“We do our jobs right. We kidnap ladies, get the money, and let them go. We’ve never made a single mistake on that process. We’ve never lost a client. Peter’s lost three in the past four months. How can he just overlook that?”

Without waiting for my brother to answer, I turned and jogged up the stairs towards my suite. Resisting the urge to slam my door and throw things like a teenager, I sat on the couch and linked my fingers. A bottle of whiskey sitting on the table made me smile. The bottle and I made our way to the suite door next to mine.

Harvey, my boss and Antoni’s second, opened the door. “What are you doing here you Brit bastard?”

I smiled, pulling the bottle up into eyesight. His returning smile was instantaneous as he pushed the door open wider to let me in.

“So what’s the occasion?” He asked.

“I fucking hate Peter.”

A chuckle sounded from behind me as I led the way to his small living room area.

“Well, you know I can always drink to that.”

***

The sun shining through my living room windows woke me up the next morning much earlier than normal. The blackout curtains in my own bedroom let me sleep in as late as I wanted on the weekends, something Chloe was probably enjoying very much.

Already annoyed with waking up on my couch in a house my money was paying for; my body flexed and stretched the kinks and tightness. The white leather couch was aesthetically pleasing, especially with the cream colored carpeting and the bright green walls of living room.  It wasn’t, however, comfortable enough to sleep on.

Perturbed and in need of more sleep, my hand was already on the knob to my bedroom door when rustling came from inside. Not wanting to walk in on my guest, I stood in front of the door assuming she would emerge shortly and let me have my room. Instead, after a few moments the sound of the showering from my master bathroom sounded.

Wrapping the quilt from the couch tighter around my shoulders, I opted for coffee instead of my own shower and clean clothes. Promising myself the stay would be short lived, I picked my favorite roast and started grinding beans.

Over an hour later, Chloe came from my bedroom clean and sparking in a short denim skirt with leggings and a white wrap shirt. Her red hair corkscrewed down her back and her make-up nothing short of perfect.

“Plans for the day?” My grimace was instantaneous when the tone was much sharper than intended.

Either ignoring the chastising or missing it completely, she shrugged. “Nope, why do you ask?”

My scowl returned, the coffee note yet kicking in enough to warrant a nicer reaction. She was dressed up nicer than I would be to go out on the town. At nine in the morning it was just ridiculous.

“So what about you?”

Without answering, I commenced my daily routine as she started digging through the scarcity of my refrigerator.

After sorting through my closet to find something flattering and clean, I went to the bathroom to throw a wrinkled shirt in the dryer and froze in the doorway. The vanity had been cleaned. The counter top sparkled, and the sink didn’t show even the slightest remembrance of toothpaste and loose foundation powder. Chloe’s toiletry bag was sitting on the tank of the stool – and every liner, lipstick and shadow was perfectly in place. She had makeup in her bag I didn’t even have a name for.

I’d told her she could use my bathroom, and instead she completely reorganized and cleaned it. I tried to just be thankful and to ignore my anger at being told I was messy enough to warrant immediate action. It had been my intention to house Chloe in her time of need, at the very most possibly come out of the deal with a friend. Instead, she was already annoying the hell out of me.

The now spotless mirror seemed soiled with my reflection. My face looked better than it had when I came home the night before, at least. I still had dark circles under my eyes, but they had faded from face paint black to just their normal shadowy purple. My hair was in serious need of some loving care, and after getting my brush stuck I decided to just take a shower. I didn’t even touch the cold knob and stepped into the scalding hot water, letting it beat on the back of my neck.

Finally relaxed and surrounded by steam and warmth, it was easier to see that Chloe wasn’t trying to get on my nerves. Lowering my shields just enough to see what she was doing, it made me smile to see that she was looking at the dust piling up in my living room. Her mind was buzzing insecurely, wondering how I felt about her cleaning habits.

As I stepped out on my fluffy bathmat, my bad mood completely deteriorated.

Nothing had changed in our agreement. Chloe was still homeless and I still had a place for her to stay. Besides doing some extra cleaning and following her own daily agenda, she hadn’t done anything wrong.

I shook my mane of auburn tangles out, letting the soping waves hang down over my favorite plushy bathrobe. Sure, it wasn’t Chloe beautiful, but it was a comfortable weekend morning outfit.

The smell of cooking hit me the second I walked out of my bathroom. Standing behind my bedroom door I took a breath, resolved to give Chloe a chance. With a generally approachable smile on my face I stepped out into my living room.

No one was there. No buzzing minds, no Chloe. Instead of being glad, my heart started racing. Panic flooded my body, freezing me on the spot.

“Chloe?” I felt stupid calling her name. She projected so loud. If I couldn’t hear her mind, she couldn’t hear my voice.

Rushing back to the bathroom, the bathrobe hit the floor as I switched into real clothes. My feet remained bare as I ran to the front door. It was wide open.

She wasn’t immediately outside, but her car was still in the parking lot. Had she gone for a walk? Maybe she was a health nut, and walked all the way back to campus to get some stuff from her dorm.

Back inside the house, my feet slid into some flats and I snagged the keys off the hook. There was only one suitable path to campus. I unlocked the doors to my old, red Mazda Protégé and started down the street to campus. My car stopped in the parking lot. She couldn’t have made it this far in such a short amount of time. No way.

On my way to the third floor, my heart was filled with dread. What if she wasn’t here? Where was she?

The police tape had been ripped off, presumably now decorating one of the surrounding dorm rooms. Making sure no one was around, I pulled out my pocket knife and turned the handle. There wasn’t a need for it. The door was unlocked.

I took a deep breath, flinging open the door. No one rushed me, because no one was there.

Feeling defeated, I made my way back to the car and to my house. The ride home was slower as I scanned the sidewalks closer for her. I was almost at my front door before her mind flooded mine again. One sob escaped my lips as my body slumped next to my door. She was inside, making breakfast.

I entered the living room to see her lips moving mutely to a song as she danced around my kitchen. Just one look at her and my energy was sapped.

“You didn’t have to make breakfast, or clean or anything.” Doing my best to stay neutral, to not ask about her whereabouts or show her the insane worry.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

She was already gnawing on her bottom lip, staining her front teeth with red tint. “Look, I have an OCD. I don’t mean to do it, I just can’t help it. My nanna did it to me.”

“Nanna? How did your grandma make you so intrusive?”

“So what?”

“Nothing, nevermind.”

After sweeping up some pancake mix off the floor, rinsing the last of her cooking dishes and washing her hands, Chloe bounced over to the raised counter and dug in with enthusiasm. Every action she took was full of life. Compared to my sluggish demeanor she was a livewire in the street.

I wanted to hug her. To make sure she was okay. But that wasn’t my place. Not as a roommate, not as a teaching assistant. Instead a weak smile plastered my face.

While neither of us spoke aloud, breakfast was anything but silent. Her brain never seemed to stop. Her words flowed my shields, penetrating even the best defense I had against the intrusion.

“So, do you want to do something today since we both have the day off?”

I sighed. “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t care.” She sat in silence again, thinking about where she was going to go after I decided to kick her out. She kept eyeing my guest room, wondering what it would look like painted pink instead of the teal I had chosen. Her dorm was always an option, but she was afraid to go back.

“Hey Evie?”

“Hm?”

She thought about asking me about the room, but changed her mind. “How are the pancakes?”

“They’re great actually. I don’t really cook for myself that much. Seems kind of weird, ya know. Cooking for one?” I scolded myself internally for unintentionally egging her on and making myself look pathetic at the same time.

“Why haven’t you found a roommate? You know, so you don’t have to live here alone.” She poked at her breakfast, failing at being nonchalant.

“Chloe, before you even ask, it’s a bad idea. I’m not a people person. I don’t like people, I don’t trust them. You’re nice, and from what I can see, genuinely that way. I’m not a nice person and have never claimed to be.”

“You saved me when you didn’t have to. You risked your life to make sure I was okay.”

“I’m not usually like that. You have some kind of protective pull on me.”

“Why?”

I shrugged, unsure how to respond. Why did Chloe, a spoiled senator’s kid, have any effect on me at all? I’d spent my life avoiding people just like her. The only thing that made sense is that I had seen her distressed, truly in danger. Then again, just moments ago, I thought she was lost to me again. Even remembering the events had me making glances at my door locks.

Her brain was buzzing, thoughts flickering too quickly for me to decipher. The complete inconsistency of my little ability was annoying, sometimes it was useful, but most of the time it was a constant and incoherent buzzing.

“So what did you mean about the OCD?”

Her smile was vibrant and immediate. It made my stomach churn to realize how much my approval and conversation meant to her. “Well, see we had this housekeeper, but she’d been around forever so I just called her nanna. She died. Anyway, she was really bad about smacking my hands when I’d make a mess and not clean it up. Even though it was kinda her job to do things like that. But it’s whatever. I just kind of always do that. Can’t help it.”

Conversations with Chloe were like conversations with a child with an advanced vocabulary. She wasn’t stupid, she just had a tendency to cut straight to the point and say everything in one breath. Every word came out like it was the last one she would ever speak.

“Sounds like a pretty nice life. Housekeepers and all that.” I repeated the words in my head, looking for any hint of misplaced anger. It worried me to think how much it mattered that I didn’t want to offend her.

Don’t tell her. She’ll be pissed. She thought. “Look, I wasn’t like stalking you or anything, and I told him not to do it! But… my dad kinda looked you up. He said you…” lived with your druggie mom and her dealers “…had it rough growing up. I’m sorry, that must have been hard. Is that why she hates everyone?”

“Yeah.” She projected so loudly, it was hard to tell what she had said aloud and what she had just thought.

“Also, he told me where you used to live. Before you came to school up here.”

Dropping my fork to the plate, I turned to look at her. How in the hell did she already know?

“I went to school in-“

“Yeah, it’s only twenty minutes from my hometown.”

Her lips were quiet, but her brain continued to surge with questions. Being a senator’s daughter had taught her when to ask questions, and how to be polite. She even ate at an apartment barstool with a napkin in her lap. Her breeding wasn’t going to win out over her curiosity, so I sat beside her quietly and waited for her to bring up the subject.

How’d she know? Did she look me up or something, too? Or is it true? It can’t be true.

“Want to watch a movie, or play a game or something?” I gestured to my entertainment center complete with far too many movies and console games to be socially acceptable. Judging by her raised eyebrows, she wasn’t into video games. Or good movies.

“Do you wanna, maybe just talk or something?”

“About what?”

Instead of answering, she took the dishes to the sink and started rinsing them. She was trying to figure out how to ask, how to bring it up. Before I could get up to help, she turned to me, determined.

“Well, you know how we grew up so close together, which is weird. Well, I was talking to Alex, maybe you remember him? Anyway, he told me that…”

“Yeah, I was well known in my high school. Crazy Evie, that’s me. Thanks for the reminder.” I winced, knowing my frustration at the truth had caused me to reveal it sooner. Answering her unspoken words wasn’t going to help me deflect the question.

“If I’m going to live here, I deserve to know.” 

My eyes closed, a symbol of my body shutting down – ignoring her.

“Evie? I’m sorry I upset you. I just… I was thinking maybe you’d like a roommate. A roommate maybe meaning me? I can’t explain it, but I feel safe here. And you listen to me in class, you’re the only one that ever does. But I also want to know.”

She crossed the room and went to sit on my couch. With her hands dangling between her legs, she was a show of serenity. Even if her mind was screaming in confusion and rejection, she wasn’t malicious. Even her thoughts were looking for a host to latch onto. Someone to protect her, to shelter her and to pay attention to her. Her spoiled childhood was veiled in her head, showing a lot of time spent with nannies and random housekeepers. For some reason, she had chosen my house as somewhere she could belong.

“What do you want me to say?”

She looked up at me eagerly, gesturing her hands in a display of innocence. “Look, I don’t know what it is about you. But I feel safe here. I need a place to stay, and you need a roommate. I just don’t want to go anywhere else, and I definitely don’t want to admit I’m scared and go back home.”

Her vulnerability and naivety was as touching as it was a disability. She barely knew me and she wanted to move in and be friends. Immediately. Even knowing parts of my past. She’d only been away from home two months before someone tried to abduct her. Maybe living with someone who could defend her was exactly what she needed.

“Chloe, I understand. And I’m sorry about whatever was happening yesterday, but you have to understand that this could be a rough fit. I’m nothing like you at all.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“It’s obvious by the car that you drive, the family you have and even the way that you dress that we’re nothing alike. Nothing at all. I want you to stay here for as long as you want to, okay. Just don’t expect me to be buddy-buddy. I’m not good with people.”

After a moment of silence, she looked up, pushing the tears away with the sleeve of her shirt. “I’m a person, and we can talk. Tons of people in college are roommates and they don’t even know each other. You know me, you know who I am, where I grew up. The rest we can learn. Together. You know. That’s what friends do.”

“We’re not friends, Chloe.”

She bit her lip, and her despondency washed over me with pins and needles.

“Okay, stop. Please stop being sad.” I did my best to shut her out, focusing every technique I’d ever practiced on blocking her. 

“Whoa. What the hell just happened are you okay?” She was standing over me, I was on my knees. “Oh my God. Your hands are bleeding; let me get you some towels.”

I took the paper towels she handed me and pushed them into my palms. My fingernails cut deep crevices in my palms; they would be bleeding for awhile. With a sigh, I got up and went to sit on my couch.

“Look, we know at least that you’re going to be here for the next few days so you have got to learn to calm yourself down a little better. I can’t always hear thoughts, but I can feel emotions. I don’t know why, but they intensify and I can’t control them –“

“So you can?”

I sat and looked at her, trying to find a reason to deny her the truth. If she already knew, already suspsected, it would be easier not to have to lie. If she knew what I could do, that would mean less of me being on my guard while she lived in my house. “Yeah, Chloe. Yeah I can. And if you don’t mind. I’d rather not talk about it right now.”

She smiled, her emotional switch instantaneous. Her happiness and acceptance filled me down to my bare feet. How could someone be so happy about being right?

“Let’s just give it a little bit and see how it works out. I’ll try to learn how to block you out, and we can do the rest day by day, okay?”

“You can do it. I know you can. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. Also, I’ll be a great roommate. Give me a week, I promise you’ll see that it can be good, okay?”

“Okay, Chloe. You have a week to change my outlook on human kind.” I said sarcastically.

Ignoring my remark, she smiled, going back to the guest room to check to see if her furniture would fit.

As I watched her move around my house with ease, I tried to force my emotions to be something I could recognize. Where was my anger, my apathy? I’d always clung them to myself like an old fashion cloak. With her I couldn’t find them.

It made me more uncomfortable to realize how much I wanted to be cold, how much I wanted the positive energy to go somewhere else. What kind of a monster was I?