Pan's Salvation (8 page)

They didn’t peddle flesh or deal in hardcore drugs. They especially didn’t fuck with an organization big enough to swallow them whole, like they were plankton in a sea of great white sharks.

A knock came at the door.

Lark froze.

Pan jerked his head and she jogged across the room to sit in the chair at the table by the window. Pushing off the wall, he walked to the door and opened it to reveal the thugs from the day before and a middle-aged Hispanic male in a white linen suit.

His salt and pepper hair was slicked back from his forehead. His eyes were shaded by a pair of designer sunglasses that cost more than most people made in a month.

The lack of Lark’s sister wasn’t lost on him, but this was Manuel’s house. So, they would play by his rules. “Please come in,” Pan said, choking down the words that threatened to rise. It wasn’t in him to cater or pander.

“Mr—?”

“Sumner.”

“Ahhh, Mr. Sumner.” Manuel’s voice sounded like water over stones, smooth and slightly

accented, it made you think of a man highborn and well educated. Manuel’s gaze traveled across the room and latched onto Lark.

The sly smirk on his face made Pan’s hackles rise.

“I see you recognized the….
Potential
in Ms. Rosario.”

“You could say that,” Pan replied.

“Ahhh, a personal interest.” Manuel tilted his head. “I cannot blame you, she is both

gorgeous and…intelligent. Not much like the other.” His lip curled up in disgust. “I must tell you my dear. While I’m willing to make the exchange, I will not persuade her, should she come to me again. I am a businessman and she’s a woman who loves my product. Perhaps you should keep your money. Robin can stay with me and we’ll call it even. ”

The anguish on Lark’s face was palatable.

Pan stared her down, mentally willing her to keep her emotions in check.

“With all due respect, Mr. Manuel, my sister belongs home with her family.”

“Yes, but she has a taste for the lady. It’s not something so easily vanquished. I’m sure you have realized this by now. Here, she is happy and useful. You cannot hold that which longs to run wild. Will you keep her in a cage?”

Lark glanced down.

Manuel’s lips flicked upward. The bastard was getting a thrill out of this.

Sadist fuck.

He came here in person to rub the shit in her face and dissuade her. He wanted to keep

Robin. He could give a shit about fifty-thousand. That was a drop in the bucket to him.

“I can try,” Lark whispered.

Manuel threw his head back and laughed. “Ah, you have fuega. I like it.” His eyes raked over her form obscenely. “I see you have your mind made up. I would like to see my money now, Mr. Sumner.”

Pan nodded, walked over to the closet and pulled out a black duffle bag. He dropped it onto the bed then went to stand by Lark. He rested his hand on her shoulder and she covered it with her own. It trembled slightly, but her face was a fortress.
Good girl.

“It’s all here, boss.”

“Have them bring the girl up.”

Jose nodded and removed a phone from his suit. “Bring her up.”

“I keep my end of deals,” Manuel stated.

A few moments later, a knock came on the door.

Jose hefted the duffel bag onto his shoulder. Then, the nameless Hulk opened the door.

At the sight standing there, Pan’s heart plummeted.

“I’ll be seeing you again. Of this, I am sure,” Manuel purred. The men left as quickly as they arrived.

Robin was smaller than her sister, around five-foot-seven inches and maybe ninety

pounds…soaking wet. Emaciated, her bones stuck out in angles sharp enough to cut. Her black hair looked ratty and full. Chopped into awkward layers, it hung around her oval shaped face.

The dark smudges under her eyes looked permanently painted onto her flesh.

This is the true definition of the living dead.

She toddled toward them like a baby learning to walk. The white spaghetti-strapped dress tented around her frame, lending her a ghostly appearance. The lack of track marks told him she shot up between her toes. Bruises lined her legs.

“Robin,” Lark whispered horrified.

“Hey, Sis,” Robin slurred. “Long time no see.” She paused in front of him. “Who’s this?”

“I’m Pan, why don’t you sit down.”

Her eyes looked unfocused.

He grabbed her arm and guided her to the bed.

Lark rushed over. “Fuck! How much did you take?”

“Enough,” Robin slurred. She pressed a hand to her head. “Ugh.”

Lark held her hands to her face. Concern furrowed her brow and drew the corners of her lip down. “It’s hitting her now.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Robin agreed.

“She’s not looking so good,” Pan said.

“I know,” Lark whispered.

Robin wrestled out of her sister’s hold and rolled onto her side. She clutched her waist and curled into a ball.

“Shit,” Pan whispered. He recognized the signs of overdose.

“No. Don’t you fucking do this to me. No!” Lark hissed.

“Lark, what do you want to do?”

“Get her to the bathroom.”

He lifted her rail-thin frame up and gently placed her in the tub.

“You stay here with her,” he said. He returned to the room to find the boys filing in.

“Shit’s going bad in here, brother,” Lefty said.

“I know, man. I think she’s OD-ing,” Pan replied.

“Fuck. What do you want to do?” Lefty asked.

“What can we do?”

The sound of retching drove home how quickly Robin was deteriorating.

“Well, we sure as fuck can’t call an ambulance. The only choice we have is to ride it out or get to a hospital,” Lefty suggested.

“I’ll ask Lark.” Pan jogged into the bathroom and stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway.

Robin’s body contorted as if she were possessed as her body shook. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. A thin line of blood ran from her nose.

Lark sobbed as she held her down. “P-please turn on the cold water. We need to—shock her system.”

He turned on the faucet.

Robin jerked, but never came to. Her body went limp. Her breathing became shallow.

“Lark. We need to make a decision. You know calling an ambulance down here is out,

right?”

“I—I know.”

“We can try to get her to a hospital somewhere near here—?”

Lark climbed into the tub with what appeared to be a lifeless body and held her close as she rocked back and forth.

The overpowering smell of released bowels hit him.
I’m watching this woman die.
Hell, if
she’s still alive.
Pan crept toward the tub and lifted her arm, searching for a pulse in her wrist.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I always knew deep down this day would come,” Lark whispered. She stroked her hair

back from her face. “It was never enough for her. Not the rock bottom moments, the damage she caused my heart, her body and every other relationship she ever had. The universe seemed hell bent on keeping her life revolving around drugs. I tried. I’m so sorry I failed you, Robin.” She trailed kisses across her forehead.

Pan’s mind went to his twin. He was taking his brother for granted. All this time he spent pushing him away, he never stopped to think about how little time together they might have left.

The thought was sobering.

“I don’t want her seen like this.”

He knelt beside the tub. “I understand. What do you want me to do?”

“I’ll clean her up and we-we’ll get her into some clothes and then we’ll take her home.”

“You want to smuggle her back?”

She nodded and gazed down at Robin. “Go to where there is no more pain or struggle

sister.”

He stood and backed out, feeling like an interloper on a very private moment.

The three men looked up as he walked in.

“She’s gone.”

“Shit.”

“Lark wants to clean her up and take her back across the border tonight to avoid the red tape.

We’ll follow her on our bikes. The sooner we leave, the better it’ll be for everyone.”

They all muttered their agreement.

They packed up and he helped Lark with the body. She was still warm to the touch and

pliable.

Pan shuddered to think of what would happen soon. They were on a very short timetable.

The mood was tense once they wrapped her up in blankets and covered her with a few empty suitcases. As they drove out of town, they were all sweating bullets. The crossing went smoothly and they were across the border was over in the blink of an eye. They switched her body to an upright position, seat belted her into the back of the car and the Dueling Devils parted ways. The boys rode home to the clubhouse and he lingered behind with Lark. They pulled into the nearest hospital.

Lark parked in the driveway and ran inside. “Please help me, I—I think my sister

overdosed.”

Men and women in blue scrubs rushed to the car and madness descended.

Disoriented, lark sat in her chair,
watching the world continue to rush by. Nurses rushed to and fro, families talked amongst themselves, all like the world hadn’t just ended. With Robin’s past, no one questioned her about the overdose. She’d been pronounced dead and her body had been taken down to the morgue as they awaited her arrangements.

“Come on, I want to take you out of here,” Pan stated firmly.

“But the burial arrangements—?”

“Can wait.

“I—”

“Give yourself tonight, okay? You’ve been through a lot.”

“I can’t. I can’t slow down, or it’ll be real.” Her heart ached along with her body. She felt beaten with a bat and left to bake out in the sun for a few days. Her throat was scratchy, her lips were chapped from chewing and her spirits were lower than they’d ever been.

“Stop thinking.”

“How?” She gave a half laugh, half sob. Her eyes watered. She blinked furiously.
I will not
break down here.

“Let me be in control.”

She glanced up at the man who’d stuck beside her when he had no reason to. “Why?”

Pan sighed. “You made me remember the man I once was. The man I want to be again.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a long, drawn out story we won’t get into right now.” He grabbed her hand. “Come.”

Emotionally spent, she allowed him to lead.

Pan pulled her close to his body and led her out of the hospital into the night. “No cage tonight. My little bird needs to fly free.”

His little bird.
In a world where she felt adrift, his ownership was a welcome thing. It shamed her how quickly she’d succumb to him—her vice. Like an ostrich burying its face in the sand, she placed her head on his shoulder and inhaled the crisp air. They walked up to the bike that could so quickly become her home. He climbed on and she followed behind him, like they’d been doing it for years. The feel of his hard form beneath her hands grounded her. He started the bike and squealed out of the lot. The wind in her hair, the scenery rushing by and the feel of wheels on the pavement lulled her into a cocoon of comfort.

They pulled in front of a modest one-story home. The light yellow painted siding was

welcoming and the lawn well cared for. He parked in the driveway and they moved up the walk to the porch.

“This is nice.”

“It’s a recent purchase. I had to move out of my…old place.” The hesitation in his voice revealed only part of a story.

He unlocked the door and she stepped inside. The beige carpet, leather couches and sparse decoration screamed
bachelor
. They stepped inside. The smell of fresh linens greeted her.

“What? I’m not a slob,” Pan said.

She arched an eyebrow.

“Maybe I have a cleaning lady too.”

She smirked.
I’m smiling, but my sister will never do this again.
The joy bled from her body.

Guilt crashed over her like a wave. She swayed.

Pan grabbed her elbow, keeping her upright. “What do you need most right now?”

“To forget. God, please make me forget.”

Their gazes locked. He studied her as the seconds rolled by. “Go down the hall, to the last door on your right, take a shower and wash the day’s events off you. Once you’re ready, come and sit on my bed.”

“Naked?” she whispered.

“Yes. You won’t need clothing for any of the things I plan on doing to you.” He grinned wickedly.

“Oh…” Her stomach fluttered.

His wicked smile grew. “I like it when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

He tilted her chin up. “Like I’m about to give you a present you’ve been wanting for a long time.”

Maybe I have been waiting for you all this time.

He pinched her chin. “Go do what I told you to while I get things set up.”

Later strode away in a daze. Who was this man swathed in mystery, oozing sexuality and

completely at odds with his rough exterior. In a handful of days, he’d shown her more concern and care than most people she’d known for years.

Pushing open the door, she gasped as she saw the four poster bed covered in black satin sheets and a red comforter. It was masculine and decadent at the same time.
Like the man
himself.
A dark dresser sat against the wall on the opposite side of the room, along with an oddly shaped black chair. She wanted to investigate further, but the bath was calling her. She longed to feel the hot water on her skin and throw her jeans and t-shirt into the garbage. She could never wear those again, without remembering the horrific events of the day.