Memory: Book Two (Scars 2) (12 page)

“What
the hell do you want, Rachel? I can never figure you out. One day you hate me,
the next you act like a kid if I ignore you. What is it you want? You want to
go? Is that it?”

“I
don’t know,” I blurted out, any laughter that had been in me before
disappearing. “I don’t know what the fuck I want, all I know is I want to stop
feeling like
this.
”

He
let go of my arms all together but remained kneeling above me. “Like what?”

“Like
I don’t know what’s real and what’s not. Like I don’t know what I want or how I
feel about you. Sometimes I want you to start acting like my boyfriend, like
someone who’s in love with me and adores me and is sweet all the time. But that
would be a lie, so I don’t really want that either. And I want to stop acting
crazy!” I breathed heavily. “I know that this should be the last thing that I
want right now, but I want you to fuck me. Can you do that for me?”

He
stared at me, then nodded. His hands went to his jeans, unzipping his fly and
pulling them down along with his underwear. His dick was hard already; the
little show that I had given him had worked whether he liked it or not.

He
yanked my bikini bottoms down as I just lay there, and with no foreplay or
seduction, he entered me. I was already wet from my little make-out session
with Azalea and he slid in effortlessly. I gripped the pillow behind me,
sinking my nails in deep as I stared at the ceiling. He made no move to kiss me
and for that, I was glad. I didn’t need to be confused further.

“Harder,”
I whispered to him. He complied, pushing into me so fast and hard that I gave a
grunt, but then I relaxed, closing my eyes and lifting my hips to match his
pace. This was better; this way I could pretend that he was faceless, that I
was no one, and this was just about feeling someone inside me. The physical
need began to take over all the turmoil inside me, washing it away as he
continued to pound into me.

But
then he ruined it. He stopped and I opened my eyes in surprise. He bent down to
cup my cheeks in his hand. “Kiss me,” he ordered.

“No.”

He
held my face firmly so that I couldn’t turn away and lowered his lips to mine,
sucking on my lower lip and biting gently. “Kiss me or I won’t fuck you
anymore,” he murmured after releasing my lip and before he started to kiss me
along my jawline.

“No,”
I panted, trying to move myself against him for the friction that I was
desperate for. “Just fuck me like you used to, when you didn’t care.”

He
froze with his mouth pressed to my jaw, then he lifted his lips from my skin.
“Fine,” he grunted. His hand came up to wrap around my throat, the tight
pressure pinning me down. This was better. Each deep thrust brought a pain that
I was used to, and I started to giggle crazily. Time after time I had endured
this with my mother’s boyfriends; urging then deeper and deeper into me as if I
were just a doll that did not feel pain or hurt, like I was a toy to be played
with this. They may have spoken pretty words of love, but there was no love or
concern in them, not really.

Aaron
gave a slight cry as he came, remaining hovering over me and breathing heavily.
I didn’t touch him or move, and just lay there staring upward as he slipped out
of me and I felt his semen dribble out to stain the couch beneath me. He
grabbed for his t-shirt, wiping himself before tossing it at me. I still didn’t
move or take any action to clean myself up. I lay there motionless, barely
blinking.

Finally,
Aaron picked me up and carried me to the downstairs bathroom, depositing me on
the vanity while he began to run the bath. Steam filled the room and the heat
began to make me dizzy. It was a welcoming feeling, almost like I was
unconscious and lifting out of my body. The potential danger of fainting at any
moment was liberating, as if I might escape consciousness and reality and go
somewhere better.

When
the bath tub was filled, he helped me in it before slipping in behind me. A
sliver of blood escaped from me, tinging the water pink. “I made you bleed,”
Aaron said as his hands drew me against his chest.

“You
did what I asked,” I said simply. “I wanted physical pain and that’s what you
gave me.”

He
was silent for a moment, before saying, “You’re screwed up, you know that?”

“Yes.”

He
kissed my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“For
what?”

“Breaking
you, hurting you, damaging you…”

His
words were so unexpected that I found myself holding my breath and it was hard
to expel it. My throat felt thick with confusion and I didn’t know what to say.
Moments of silence passed before I managed to speak. “Don’t be. Broken dolls
have sharp edges. We always manage to bite back somehow.”

There
was nothing more to say after that.

We
slept late the next morning. He didn’t penetrate me again that night, but he
positioned himself between my legs and began to lap there where he had hurt me,
as if he were a wolf licking a cub’s wounds. This bothered me. It was if he had
the ability to heal everything, placing him yet again in the position of power.
My irritation outweighed the biological pleasure that came from the pressure of
his tongue on me.

“Don’t.”

He
paused, and lifted his head to look at me. His hair had fallen over his eyes
and for just an instant, he looked terribly young.

“Why
not?” His voice was so soft that it was barely audible.

Part
of me wanted to explain but I didn’t. “Just don’t.”

Slowly
he moved away, stretching his long body out beside me. He didn’t touch me
again.

Aaron
was up early and dressed in his predictable dark clothes by the time I opened my
eyes. I caught him slipping his arms into a jacket that would cover the gun
that he wore. A bag lay on the dresser, filled with his clothes.

“Where
are you going?”

He
didn’t look at me. “Antony’s going to come over and keep you company.
Apparently, he’s missed you. I’ll leave the phone numbers for the nurse and the
doctor with him just in case.”

I
sat up, pulling the sheet against my body. There was a slight pain between my
legs. “And where are
you
going?”

For
the first time, he stopped and looked at me. “I’ve got work to do, Rachel.”

“How
long will you be gone for?”

“I
don’t know.” He zipped up the bag before scanning the room for anything that he
might have missed, then he walked out the door. I sat watching the empty
doorway for a few seconds before I reached for my robe and swung my legs out of
the bed as I went in search of him.

I
found him in the gym, the bag hooked over his shoulder, and he just stood
staring at the unpleasant mural tarnishing the wall. His whole stance was
tense, like he was ready for a fight. I waited for him to sense my presence and
acknowledge that I was there. But he didn’t.

“Did
you paint that?” I asked from the doorway.

He
waited a few moments before answering. ‘Yeah.”

I
took a step closer and then stopped. There was something about the way that he
was staring at that tree and its creepy faces that sent a shiver down my spine.
I had seen so many Aarons during my time with him. Sarcastic, cruel, the lover,
the hater, the drunk…but this was different. He was staring at it as if mesmerized,
or perhaps more correctly as if there were answers to be found in what lay
there.

“Who
are they?” I asked gently, cautiously, half expecting him not to answer.

“They
were a family.”

Were?
I swallowed.
“Like Luca and Antony’s ‘family’?”

He
shook his head, sighing and turning away from the mural. “No. It was before
them.”

A
thousand questions burned on my tongue, but I couldn’t make myself ask them,
sure that I would not like the answers.

“Anyway,”
he continued. “I’ve got to get going. Antony should be here soon, but the house
is watched like I told you before so you’ve got nothing to worry about. Don’t
open the door to anyone except him.” He moved past me and out the door. There
was no kiss, no touch, not even words like normally. I waited there, listening,
until I heard the door slam shut and a car start.

I
took a breath and moved closer to the mural. From a distance, you saw only the
tree, but once closer, the faces became apparent. They were so detailed and so
intricate that countless hours must have been dedicated to their formation.
Some of the faces had their mouths distorted as if in terror. The unsettling
memory of the theatre masks hanging on a wall came back to me, or were they actually
death masks? Either way, they could evoke the same creepiness. I reached out
and touched one, it was a young woman. Her face wasn’t distorted in terror
though, her mouth instead was set in a line, unhappy at being surrounded by the
more horrific faces. She was pretty, her face set with delicate bone structure,
high cheekbones and a curving chin. This girl, out of all the faces, evoked the
least horror. He had taken the time to construct her features in a way that was
incredibly beautiful and she was perfect in a way that no real person was.

The
doorbell chimed and I jumped back from the mural as if I had been caught doing
something wrong. I hurried down the stairs and saw the outline of Antony
standing outside. He gave me a wide grin and I opened the door.

“Hey,
beautiful. I brought you breakfast.” He held up takeaway containers to show me.

“Then
you’re welcome. Come in.” I took them from him and led the way to the kitchen,
pulling out plates and cutlery while he started to make coffee. “Are you my
body guard for today?” I asked him.

“No,
but I brought my own so I wouldn’t have to get my hands dirty.” He showed me
his spotless hands to emphasize the point. His nails were clean and perfect
like he got regular manicures.

“Bodyguards?
Really? I was joking. Has this thing got you really freaked out?” I asked as I
dished out the pancakes. Then I paused. “I forgot about your friend dying like
she did. I’m sorry. That must be terrible for you.” A cringing feeling went
through me as I vividly remembered Fenella’s macabre ruined face. And here we
were, eating in the same room where it happened, even though Aaron’s workman
had remodeled everything so that you could never tell. I cleared my throat.
“Let’s go eat by the pool.”

He
gave a slight smile as if he were thinking the same thing, and wordlessly
picked up his things and led the way. Once we were settled in the sun and
eating at the outdoor table, I brought the subject up again.

“What
did you tell her family? It must sicken them that there are no answers.”

He
looked uncomfortable, and wiped at his face with his napkin before setting it
aside. “Actually, all they know is that she had a car accident that disfigured
her to the point that it wouldn’t be appropriate for them to view her.”

“Really?
And they bought that?”

He
gave a nod. “I paid out a lot of money to have that as the official version.
The pathologist, the cops. We couldn’t avoid having the police here of course
after the shooting because of the noise and mess, but everyone’s able to be
bribed.” Then he gave a shrug and a sad smile. “What would you prefer if it were
your child? That some nameless gunmen butchered your daughter with powerful
weaponry, or that she died suddenly in a car accident where there was nothing
malicious about it? As far as they’re concerned, it was just a dreadful
accident that nobody could have prevented. They get to deal with their grief
and move on, otherwise they would be constantly tied up in knots of hatred
toward the person who killed their baby. You can’t move on if you hate all the
time, Rachel. It’s not healthy.”

“So
who do you think it was?” I asked him, watching him carefully in case he
decided to lie.

“Truthfully?
I haven’t got a fucking clue. All I know is that the house got blown apart but
they didn’t storm in or bother to kill us all. And they took you and
disappeared like they were fucking ghosts.”

“They?”

“This
wasn’t just one person. There were several weapons used.”

“And
how did you know where I was?”

His
mouth twisted in a grimace. “Aaron got a phone call, telling him your location.
He just took off, which was stupid, he should have taken our men with him. It
was some warehouse in an industrial area, and you were the only one there.
There was no other attack, nothing. It’s like they were playing a game or
sending a message, but the only problem is that we don’t know what that message
is. If it were one of our rivals for the drug trade, we’d know it. They would
have spelled out exactly who did it. But there’s nothing. Nada.” He threw his
hands up in disgust. “If Aaron knows something, then he’s not talking.”

“They
were targeting him, not me, that’s all that I can remember.”

He
looked pained as he cast his eyes around us. “I don’t know why he insists on
keeping you here. I have the feeling that he knows more than he lets on.”

I
pushed my chair back. “Can I show you something?”

“Sure.”

“Follow
me.”

I
led him up the stairs to the Gym. He took a step back as he took in the mural.
“I’ve never been in here before, but that’s…not to my taste.”

“It’s
horrific, that’s what it is. His talent’s amazing, but this is the stuff of
nightmares.”

“You’ve
got that right.” Antony was still taking it in, his face twisted in distaste.

I
took a breath. “Antony, do you think Aaron’s sane?”

He
slowly moved his eyes away from the monstrosity to me. “What?”

“He’s
not sane, is he? He can’t be. The things that he does for your family…they’re
awful things aren’t they? You can’t do things like that and be normal, can
you?”

Antony
cleared his throat. “Rachel, Paige…I don’t think that he’s insane. I’ve  known
some of the most cold killers out there be wonderful family men. Work and home,
that’s different. Most can separate.”

I
shook my head at him in frustration. “No, Aaron’s
different
. You have to
see that!”

Antony
frowned. “What’s with you? Is it your head? Should I call your doctor?”

I
let out a sigh and slid down the wall to sit on the floor. “No,” I said
despondently. “Nothing’s wrong with me.” I hugged my knees to my chest and
wished that what I had just said was actually true.

He
stood there, staring down at me, before joining me on the floor. “Look, Aaron
is different. He’s quiet, keeps to himself, but I’ve seen him be all charm when
the occasion asks for it. He’s good at what he does. He’s efficient and
precise. I’ve never seen him emotionally driven by what he does.” He gave a
slight laugh. “In fact, the only time that I have ever seen him out of control
angry is when they took you. That is the only time that I have seen him act
insane.” He reached out and took my hand. “Listen, you know that if you ever
need help, with Aaron or anything else, you can come to me. You know that,
right?” He gave my hand a quick squeeze before letting go.

I
managed to smile at him. “I know. Thank you.”

He
rewarded me with a brief smile before getting to his feet and holding a hand
out to me, which I took so he could pull me to my feet.

We
spent the rest of the day playing cards. He used to be, he told me, a gambler
and lost so much money that his older brother had to bail him out. Now he no
longer gambled but loved the feel of the cards so much and the memories of
winning that he constantly carried a deck around with him. He showed me tricks,
fooled me with sleight of hand games that left him grinning when I couldn’t
figure out how he had done it.

“I
think this is why you’ve never been married. You’re too in love with that deck
of cards. Do you sleep with them as well?” I mocked after he refused to reveal
his secrets.

He
opened his mouth to make some kind of comeback retort, but his phone buzzed and
he answered it

“Yeah?”

Whoever
was on the other end started speaking quickly and swearing. Antony’s face
turned dark.

“
Shit
.
Really? I’ll be right there.” He ended the call with an angry swipe of his
thumb.

“What’s
wrong?” I asked as he stood, sighing.

“Sorry,
beautiful. I have a slight distributor problem that needs to be taken care of right
now. Normally, I’d send your boyfriend to take care of it, but since he’s
decided to take a vacation, that’s not an option.”

I
frowned. “What? I thought he was working for you?”

Antony
tucked the deck of cards back into his jacket pocket. “He just said that he had
something personal to take care of. Anyway, I’ll be back here tonight so…don’t
go anywhere. I’m going to leave my guy behind, okay? Don’t get freaked out if
you see him walking around the perimeter.”

“Sure.”
I followed him to the door and let him kiss me on the forehead before he left.
A big man stood outside the door, and he nodded to him.

“I’ll
be back soon,” Antony told him. “Don’t let her go anywhere.” He caught me
rolling my eyes and gave me a grin and a wink. “Just taking care of you, beautiful.”

I
hated that my lips tugged up reluctantly in response to his infectious grin.
“Fine. Bye,” I said begrudgingly as I closed the door behind him.

I
turned back to regard the cold, silent house. I was bored already now that
Antony was gone. I tried to read a book and watch TV but my mind kept
wandering. Eventually, I took my phone and stared at it, holding it tightly and
I tried to conjure up the number in my head.

The
first two times, I got the number wrong, but on the third go, my mother’s
recorded voice sweetly asked me to leave a message. I opened my mouth but
nothing came out, and I ended the call, not sure what else to do. I tried
again, two more times, each time exhaling with relief that she didn’t pick up.
Then it hit me. I didn’t know what I would have said even if she did answer.
There had been no contact from her since she basically ordered me to play her
“special game” with Aaron and get what I could out of him. The saddest part of
her request was that it made me realize just how stupid she was. She hadn’t
done her homework; if she had she would have come to the conclusion that Aaron
would have simply killed us if we had tried to work him as a mark.

I
wondered if she were still with Todd, cocooned by his love, or if she had moved
on, to bigger and richer things. I turned my phone off and went upstairs to the
bedroom. Lying on the bed, my head ran rampant with memories. We used to do fun
things together — amusement parks, trips to the beach, gypsy fairs where we
would get our fortunes read…but try as I might, the bad overcame the good. The
bad flushed away the good memories, descending over them with its darkness like
they were being washed away to sea. I curled up into a tight little ball and
began to cry.