Chains (23 page)

FIFTEEN

Mike pulled into Alex’s driveway just before eleven that night. It was impossible to wrap my mind around the fact that Alex wouldn’t be sitting in his office talking on his cell phone, or out on the patio drinking a beer. He left and had no idea he’d never return again.

“Thanks for bringing us back, Mike,” I said.

“Need me to come in?” He yawned, and I would’ve invited him in if Striker weren’t out there somewhere. The last person I wanted involved in this was Mike. Hell, just by bringing us home, he was in the line of fire. One more person connected to me that Striker could hurt me with.

“No,” I said. “We’re going to crash and face this in the morning.”

We both knew it was a lie. Danny sat, vigilant, in the backseat. She didn’t utter a word while Mike drove, and I navigated. I fixed her, and she was broken again.

“Call me tomorrow,” Mike said, as I got out and opened Danny’s door.

I watched Mike back out and drive away. He turned to look back at me twice before disappearing down the road. Danny punched the garage door code into the security box and the door started creeping up. “Let me go in first,” I said, making my way through the dark garage.

“I’m the one with the gun,” she said, edging in front of me.

I grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around so fast, her hair flew out behind her. I could barely make out the whites of her eyes. “Stop acting like a hard ass, and give me the fucking gun.”

She shoved my chest, not budging me. I swear to God, I wanted to wrestle her to the ground, but if the gun went off and I lost her, too, I couldn’t live with myself. “Let go of me!” she shouted.

“I’m not playing, Danny. Give me the fucking gun.” I threw my arms around her and held her tight against me.

“Stop,” she said, shaking. A sob escaped her, and she tried harder to pull away. “Let go.” She started crying. “Please,” she whispered. “Let go. Leave me here. Go back to Detroit, and leave me.”

I took her face in my hands and shook her gently, wanting to wake her up and make her come back to her senses. “Why would you say that? I’m never leaving you. Don’t you fucking talk like that.”

“I don’t want to love you anymore! He’ll take you from me, and it’ll be worse than being dead!” She swiveled in my arms, trying in vain to tear herself away from me. “Let go!” she screamed, her voice ragged. She gripped my arms, digging her nails in and let out a howl of rage. Her pain was thick and surrounded us, egging on my own.

“Please, stop,” I begged. “Alex being gone is hard enough. I can’t—I’m doing all I can to be strong for both of us.”

“I can be strong for me!” She pushed against me, but I wouldn’t let her free.

“I know you can. You were always the strongest of the three of us. We called you our princess, but you were the one who kept us going. Let me be the one this time, Danny. Stop fighting. You can hurt. You can cry, just stop fighting me.”

Still gripping my arms, she threw her head forward and rammed her forehead against my chest over and over until she finally wore herself out and collapsed against me, weeping. I closed my eyes and felt her there—every inch of her against me. I listened to her gasps for breath and stuttering sobs.
“He’s gone,”
she cried.
“Alex is gone, Tyler! It’s not fair! Why does God hate us? What did we do to live like this?”

I ran my hand up and down her back, kissed the top of her head. I wanted to tell her it was okay, but it wasn’t. She was right. Ever since we were little, the three of us suffered one nightmare after another. It never ended. In the past couple weeks with Danny, I was fooled into believing our luck had changed, that God or the universe or what-the-fuck-ever was on our side. But whoever ran the world had a hard-on for fucking us over.

I blinked back hot tears brimming in my eyes and choked back sobs of anguish. We’d been through hell growing up, but nothing ever hurt this bad. I’d trade any amount of physical pain for this. I wanted to claw my chest open and let all of the flaming anger and seeping ache out.

“Let’s go inside,” I said, pressing my cheek to the top of her head. “You need to get some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep,” she said, sniffing.

“Then we’ll lie down, and you can tell me a story.”

“Fairytales are for little kids who don’t know any better. Life doesn’t serve up fairytales to people like us. I won’t pretend anymore.”

I played with her hair, letting it slide through my fingers. “You know, fairytales always start with tragedy.”

“The mom always dies,” she said. “Our moms left a long time ago, and there’s no fairy godmother coming to give us three wishes, Ty. Drop it.”

I held her back and rested my forehead against hers. “Alex being gone—it kills me Danny, but don’t give up on us. We can be happy. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but we can be.”

Her hands came up around my neck. She rest her chin on my shoulder and placed her damp cheek against mine. “I’m afraid,” she whispered in my ear. “Every time I’m happy, the rug gets pulled out from under me. I don’t think I can take anymore.”

“You won’t have to.”

“How do you know? You can’t promise me that.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. I would not let the emotions pressing down on me crush my will. “You’re right,” I said, surrendering to defeat. I couldn’t keep death away or sorrow from touching her. “All I can promise is to love you, Danny.”

“That won’t be enough.” The words, spoken in a deep, familiar voice, came from the doorway into the house.

Danny gasped and climbed up me, wrapping her legs around mine. “It’s him,” she whispered. “It’s Striker.”

I fumbled for the gun tucked in her pants, untangled myself from her grip and turned around, placing her behind me. “Finally brave enough to face me?” I pushed out behind me and shoved Danny. “Run!”

In the pitch black of the garage, I lifted the gun and fired toward the door. Danny screamed, still planted behind me, and the bullet rang out when it hit the metal door.

I tackled Danny as another shot rang out.

Sharp, hot pain shot through my back.

I hit the garage floor. Air crushed out of my lungs, exiting in a rush.

Danny screaming—screaming and taking the gun.

Another shot fired. Another. Another…another… “Tyler!”

White noise.

Soon. I promise.

The Princess, 4 Years Later

There was a tournament in Reno tomorrow. I hadn’t been back there since Alex and Ty were shot. I didn’t want to go, but Mike told me he needed me. The gym couldn’t run without me these days. Ever since losing his best hope for a pro fighter, he took on more and more kids hoping to find another good enough to make it that far. It was my job to make sure they were all in the right places at the right times and had everything they needed to win their matches. It would be a long day. Just thinking about it made me yawn.

I clicked off the lamp beside the bed and began to whisper our story, the fairytale of us.

“Once upon a time there was a princess and two brave knights. They grew up in the castle of the evil Baron Striker, but no matter how much the baron tried to break them down, they stayed strong. They had each other and knew that one day they’d be free.

“But the princess was the youngest and was the last to be set free. She was afraid, but knew her knights were outside the castle walls somewhere, safe and strong. All she had to do was find them. So she set off on a quest of her own, and who did she find?”

“My daddy,” Tyra said, squirming under my arm.

“That’s right. The princess found Sir Tyler and Sir Alex and—”

“That one’s Uncle Alex.” My little four-year-old sat up and pointed to the framed comic-like drawings Tyler drew a long time ago of a princess and her two knights. I found them in Striker’s house the one time I went back after killing him in self-defense.

“That’s right,” I said.

“And that one’s my daddy,” she said, pointing to the other knight.

“Yes. Now lie back down,” I said, tucking her back into the crook of my arm and stroking her wispy blond hair.

The bedroom door creaked open and Alex The Dog bounded in. “We weren’t talking about you,” I said to him as he leapt up and crashed down onto my legs.

“You were talking about me though,” Ty said, coming in. “Nobody told me we were doing bedtime stories.” He scooted into the little bed on the other side of Tyra and wrapped his arms around us both, squeezing us tight and making her giggle.

I thanked God every single day for him being alive. He couldn’t fight anymore, but trained the best fighters Mike had to offer.

“Is Papa Mike bringing me candy tomorrow?” our little girl asked him. We lived in the apartment over the gym, and Tyra loved tagging along after her Papa Mike while Ty and I were busy working.

“Doesn’t Papa always bring you candy?” Ty said, and tweaked her nose before kissing her forehead. “Now, let’s finish the story so you can get some sleep and not be a grumpy ogre tomorrow.”

“I’m never a grumpy ogre!” she said, patting him on the cheek. “I’m always a perfect princess.”

“You’re a grouchy, mean ogre when you stay up too late,” he said, poking her in the side, tickling her. Alex barked and licked her face.

“You’re getting her all wound up,” I said, “and she’ll never go to sleep.”

“Okay then,” he said, tucking her in and settling beside her. “I’ll tell the rest of the story.

“Sir Tyler and Sir Alex always thought it was their duty to protect the princess, but they never knew how and they didn’t do a great job at it either.”

I almost interrupted him to say he was wrong, but kept my mouth closed and let him finish.

“Then one day Sir Alex made Sir Tyler remember that the princess really didn’t want to be a princess. She always wanted to be a knight like them. She wanted to command fire-breathing dragons with her magic ruby ring and fight the evil baron.”

“And she did!” Tyra said, as I touched the ruby ring on my right hand. I treasured it second only to the diamond on my left ring finger.

“She did,” Ty said. “The princess was braver than the two knights put together and she saved the entire kingdom.”

“And then she married Sir Tyler,” Tyra said on a yawn.

“And then she married Sir Tyler,” Ty repeated, kissing the top of her head. “And they had a princess of their own.”

“A princess as fearless and brave as the toughest knight!” Tyra said, raising her arm like she held a sword.

“Yes,” I said. “Princess Tyra is a very brave girl who has to sleep now.” I sat up and took Ty’s hand, pulling him up from the bed with me. The dog jumped down and padded out of the room. “See you in the morning,” I said. “I love you, little girl.”

“Love you too, Mommy,” she said, rolling on her side to watch us leave her room.

“God bless you, Princess,” Ty said, blowing her a kiss.

“God bless you, Daddy,” she said, yawning again, her eyes half-mast.

“He has,” Ty whispered.

Out in the hallway, Ty closed the door behind us and took me in his arms. “Do you believe in fairytales, Danny?”

“Yes,” I said, pulling his head down to mine for a kiss, “and knights in shining armor.”