The Wanted (24 page)

This was not where I belonged.

Judith sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes groggily.

I let one tear slip before I padded my soul with steel bars and strengthened myself. Palma was free. Free. It was working. I smiled and my face hurt.

As Judith peered at me through the glow of her hideous fairy nightlight, I thought about my father. I wondered where he was when Palma was freed. I imagined him celebrating, marveling at the power of the people. But I also knew he would look to his side and want me there. I pictured his wiry arm over my shoulder.

I’m sorry, Dad.

JOSEPH

This was definitely the way to forget, but it came with a price.

My head lolled to the side and I startled awake, my eyes resistant to opening, my mouth dry and desperate for water. I licked my lips and unfolded my arms, stretching them behind my back. Dried blood crackled on my shirt. I needed to change.

The room was spinning and I blinked several times, trying to sharpen my dulled senses. Some people were still awake, hovering over the kitchen bench and whispering, but the house was almost empty. Most people probably returned to their homes once the celebrations had died down. I did a quick head count and noted that everyone was here, sleeping on the floor or crookedly in chairs. Elise’s blonde head stuck out from under a blanket on the worn, yellow sofa.

I got up and wobbled over to the kitchen to get water, tripping over Desh’s sleeping body. A murmur in the corner caught my eye. Olga sat with her back against the wall. She looked anxious, shaking her head from side to side, her small eyes darting around the room like she was also doing a head count.

“Olga, are you ok?” I whispered hoarsely, clearing my throat of its fuzziness.

She nodded and waved her hand dismissively. “Just tired,” she replied.

That was good enough for my cloudy brain. I stumbled and tripped on the spot where the carpet met the kitchen tiles, water calling to me from the dented sink.

As I lurched over the tap and drank directly from it, Rash’s voice hit my ears like he’d clapped tin lids together over my head.

“Feeling a bit under the weather are we?” he asked triumphantly.

I took a few more sips and raised my head, wiping the water from my mouth. The other men who were whispering wisely moved away from the counter. Rash sat on a stool, his arms clasped neatly in front of him, a big grin on his face, his speech a little slurred.

“What did you do to me?” I asked, my own words sounding garbled.

He raised his eyebrows. “Nothing, you dumbass. You did this to yourself. You’re drunk.”

I leaned my elbows on the counter and dipped my head down between my shoulders. It made me feel worse. The room started bobbing up and down like I was on water. I looked up and caught his amused expression.

“I’m glad my pain gives you comfort,” I groaned.

He clapped his hands together and chuckled when I flinched at the noise. My head was splitting open.

“Oh it does, man, it does.” He opened a can of beer and handed it to me. “Here, drink this; it will make you feel better.” I eyed him suspiciously but took it. I couldn’t feel any worse than I already did.

I took a few swigs and soon, I could feel it doing its job.

“Are you ever going to forgive me?” I asked, watching him pick at his brown hands.

He laughed sourly. “This is not about forgiveness. I’m grieving. I miss her. I need her. You’re just the obvious target for all my misdirected anger.” His head sunk down.

I shook my head from side to side. “You’re… you’re in love with her…” My hand curled into a jealous fist.

Rash’s eyes narrowed. “You know, you really are an idiot. You need to realize you’re not the only one suffering. I love her, yes. I’m not
in
love with her.” His voice started to rise in volume. “You think…You think…”

I slammed my fist down on the table. “What?” Violence pulsed in my fingertips. I was tired of him blaming me for everything.

“You’re so sorry. So sorry for yourself, you don’t…” he started. It wasn’t even true. I felt the burden of what I’d done to everyone. To him, to Pelo, and everyone who’d lost her. “You’re not the only one who lost her. And just coz I wasn’t sleeping with her, doesn’t mean I didn’t love her just as much as you did!”

That was it. I was so sick of his attitude. His damn, stupid, glaring face. I snatched his clothes with my hands, pulled him across the counter, and close to my face. My heart thumped loudly; my ears pumped a sea of blood.

I stared into his eyes and whispered, “You think this is about sex?” I shook my head, sorry for him. “Screw you, Rash,” I said, throwing him away from me. He fell off his stool and onto the floor.

My hands were still begging to hit him. I paced back and forth, my fists tight against my sides.

Suddenly, Elise was in front of me. She put her hands on my shoulders, and I nearly punched her. She ducked back from my angry expression.

“Come with me,” she said, taking my hand and pulling me away from the kitchen and down the hall of the small cottage.

I let her lead me because if I’d stayed there, I would have stomped on Rash’s face. Rosa wouldn’t want that. I ran my hands through my hair. She wouldn’t want any of this.

Elise pulled me into the bathroom and closed the door. She daintily put down the toilet seat lid and sat on it.

She handed me a balled-up wad of cloth. “Here, I found you a clean shirt.”

I turned away from her and quickly changed, my eyes roaming over the blue glass tiles bordering the shower that were clearly not standard issue.

“Sit down,” she said, pointing to the bathtub with tumbled-down toiletries gathered around the plughole.

I sat down on the edge and sighed, trying to expel some of the violence inside me.

“I just don’t want to feel like this anymore,” I admitted.

She leaned in, her eyes so sad, welcoming and understanding. “Feel like what?”

I shrugged, my shoulders sinking. “So guilty.”

Elise crossed her legs and rested her head in her palm. “Right. I think you should tell me what happened.”

I started from when Orry got sick. She nodded. She asked the occasional question but mostly, she just let me talk. She was being exactly what I needed, a friend, and I was grateful for it.

When I finished, she gazed at me gently. “She sounds amazing, Joe.”

I nodded. “She was. I mean… she is.”

“You’ve been through a lot together, and I understand the bond you must have with her. But let me ask you this—do you really think she would want you to torture yourself like this? You love her, and that’s not going to change, but it doesn’t mean that your life just stands still when she’s not here, does it?”

No. I knew this, but hearing someone else say it, sort of giving me permission to keep living, was good.

“It’s not just about her. I’ve done some terrible things, Elise. To escape, I had to…” My words ran out and dripped to silence.

She pursed her lips, tipping her head to the side. “You can tell me, Joe. No judgment.”

I tried to say it, but it just wouldn’t come out. Confessing to her seemed a step too intimate. “I can’t.”

She tucked a strand of fair hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to. But just listen to me. You
have
to find a way to move past it. If not for yourself, then do it for your kid. At least try and let go of the things that you can’t control. Hopefully, she’ll come back. You can hope for it, but you can’t count on it. You have to keep living your life.”

I laughed sadly. If only it were that easy.

“Try,” Elise said more forcefully.

I dipped my head in agreement. “Okay, I’ll try.” I said. Lifting my eyes to meet hers, I whispered, “Thank you for stopping me.”

She stood and patted my head. “Don’t mention it.”

I wondered if I could do it. Move on while still holding hope that I’d see her again. It seemed like a candle burning at both ends. It was going to burn no matter what end I picked up.

I found myself following her out of the bathroom and back into the kitchen. Rash had passed out on the floor where I’d shoved him, his arms wrapped around the stool like it was a woman. She took two metal cups, one pink and one green, from the cupboard and poured us both a drink from her own flask.

I took it. I wanted it. Didn’t want it. Just didn’t want to think about anything anymore.

She clinked her glass with mine, the only other sounds the murmurs of people sleeping satisfied and safe. “To living your life,” she said, and then she sculled the brown liquid in one gulp with a smile.

I couldn’t smile back, but I didn’t feel like I was going to explode anymore, which was a step in
some
direction. I wasn’t sure there was a
right
direction. Putting the cup to my lips, I drank.

ROSA

“Rosa, what’s wrong with you? Are you all right?” Judith shook my shoulder as if my body were a door she couldn’t open, her big blue eyes blinking away sleep and crusted mascara grit.

I was somewhere else. In the trees, my feet pressed hard against a branch, the scent of smoke and sweet pine rushing over my face and teasing through strands of my hair. My mind sought escape for one small moment. But the normal sound of her voice shattered my dream.

“Your voice…” I started.

One daisy-shaped pajama button pinched between her fraying fingers. “Dad prefers it.”

I gazed down at my dress, muddy and torn. “I should change,” I said, uncomfortable under her stare and her sudden admission. I didn’t want her to confide in me. I had enough secrets poking holes in my flappy existence without adding hers to my list. It was liable to squeeze something important out.

“I’ll get some ice for your face.” She smiled softly. I couldn’t tell if she enjoyed seeing me this way or she felt bad. Then she flipped her hair and muttered, “I can’t wait to tell Dad what Denny did. He told us he was the only one permitted to hurt you.”

She put her hand to my bruised cheek and cocked her head. I winced as her fingers brushed over my hot, raised skin. I retreated from her touch. Her hands were laced with poison. She was much worse than Denis was. An evil layered with crazy, beneath a sweet face.

I grabbed an armful of clothes without really paying any attention and ran to the bathroom to get away from her. I heard her say, “ice,” and the bedroom door opened and closed. I turned on the shower and quickly washed, eager to fall into bed. I was so tired even Judith’s teeth grinding wouldn’t keep me awake tonight.

I wrapped a towel around my aching body and sighed at the clothes in my hands. I’d grabbed two pairs of pants and a bra. I tried to open the door and it hit something. When I pushed harder, the door clanged against metal.

I pressed my face to the small gap. “Judith, did you put something in front of the door?” My eyes took in the small slice of view afforded by the crack. I looked up and then I looked down, my heart jumping into my mouth. I leapt back from the door in fright.

A slither of Grant’s dark face smiled at me. “You should come out, dear. I have something to tell you.” His voice was dripping with sickly sweetness, drawn out like the stretch of molasses.

I lingered on the other side of the door, quivering in a towel. No way was I going out there.

“I’m good,” I said, pulling the towel tighter.

“I heard what happened with my son. You can rest assured, he is being punished.” He was a slick of oil, bright with rainbows playing across its surface, but dangerous, one wrong step, a slip, and you’d break your back.

I was sick of this game. Groaning, I pulled my hands through my wet hair. “What the hell do you want from me?” I knew it was pointless but I said it anyway, my voice hollowing out at the end. “How could you do that? How could you break someone’s spine for your own benefit?”

Silence followed for so long that I thought he was gone. I moved to the handle slowly, and then he spoke. “Well, the test had to be accurate. The fact that you know our test subject… well, that’s just a bonus.”

I wanted to scream, but it was futile. I knew he did this to Gwen because of me and I hated him for it, the hate extending and wrapping around my own wrist too. It was my fault.

“Your time with us is nearly ovvver. My procedure has been moved up. The test will be in one week and then… I will walk again.” He clapped his hands together once.

I laughed bitterly. “Forgive me if I don’t celebrate with you.”

He pushed the door hard, and I flew backwards towards the bathroom wall. He leered at me sitting on the tiles in a towel, shaking despite telling my body to straighten up.

“Since you have refused to cooperate,” he growled, “you’ve left me no choice other than to execute you and your friend.” I knew this. “And since you’ve been so stubborn, your demise will not be an easy one. No…” He held up one finger, pointed like a knife. “You’ve helped me make an important decision.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice losing its tiny edge.

His eyes were steel, nothing in them but cold, hardness. “Let’s just say, your reunion will be a short one.”

What did that mean?

“What do you mean?” I asked, scrambling to my knees, gripping the towel with one hand.

He rolled backwards, his eyes on his feet. The guard holding open the door let him pass while I crawled after him screaming, “What do you mean? Reunion with who?”

He ignored my screams. I tried to follow him, but the guard pushed me back. He shook his head, muttering, “Stop, Miss.”

I watched him roll away from beneath the arm of the guard. Judith passed him, a bag of ice and a tea towel in one hand. She leaned down to kiss Grant on the cheek. “Night, night, Daddy,” she drawled, using her twanging voice again. I cringed.

“You’re such a good daughter,” he crooned, smoothing her hair down.

She skipped towards me. “Let’s take care of that face,” she said once we were inside.

I breathed in, my lungs expanding too far.

What did he mean?

I breathed out, my lungs scrunching down flat.

What did he mean?

Electrified chills ran through my body like I’d stuck a fork in a toaster.

The next morning, after breakfast, I went back to our room. Judith skipped off to bake a cake or paint Grant’s toenails. I didn’t know—whatever a suck up did. I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Denis to take me downstairs, seething. Half my face was purple and all of my insides were blaring red with rage. I tried to remind myself that I needed him. Gwen needed him. But all I wanted to do was shove whatever alliance we had made deep into the rubbish bin and jump up and down on top of it.

When the knock on the door came, I considered ignoring it. But then the dragging and pulling would start.
I had no choice.

Denis’ face was dark as shadows of shadows. He’d kept up a good act at breakfast, but now the mask had slipped off.

“I’m sorry,” he dribbled, and I wanted to slap him.

I glared at him, making sure the whole bruise was right in his field of vision. One blue eye crinkled in pain at the sight of me.

“I know you’re sorry. You already said that,” I snapped, stepping past him and into the hall.

Strips of white light cut me in half. I was dressed in black and red, and I was half-dark, half-light and on fire, standing in the cool sunlight. Denis shifted uncomfortably, like a beanpole in the wind. I ignored his guilty face and stared out of the window. It was a dirty winter, made of mud puddles and brown ice. I wished I could jump through the window and feel it—smell the rich earth, taste the crisp air.

I turned, and Denis was still standing there awkwardly.

His eyes swung to the camera in the corner carefully. “I just remembered, I need to borrow Judy’s music player before we go. There are some songs I need to download from it.”

Shrugging, I followed him back into the room. Suddenly, he shoved me into the bathroom and closed the door. He twisted on the taps and stared at himself in the mirror, bracing his hands on the sink.

“No amount of staring is going to change your stupid face,” I snarled as I caught my hideous expression in the mirror behind him, purple hate. Thin, angry, and not who I wanted to be.

“I’m really sorry, Rosa,” he said again.

I was getting annoyed. “Stop saying that! What do you want? Forgiveness? Fine, I forgive you for being just like you father, a violent bastard.”

He crumpled like my words were rocks thrown at his gut. “No. I’m sorry because I can’t go through with it. He’s watching me. He’s suspicious. I won’t be able to get the pills for your friend.” He exhaled loudly, as if it was so hard to say.

I wished I had rocks to throw. I wished I were strong enough to punch him. I clenched my fists at my sides. “So you’re going to let Gwen die because you’re scared of your father?” I shook my head.
I should have known this would happen.
“You could never deserve a man like Deshi. You are… beneath him,” I said cruelly.

He hung his head and muttered, “I know.”

My mind stretched and strained. I couldn’t let this happen. I turned to the wall, rich black and white tiles with swirls that looked like parsley leaves rolled in front of my eyes. Grant was suspicious. He was watching us both now. He was already distrustful of me. But his weakness was what he thought of me. He thought I was nothing, an insubstantial mess he could play with.

I strode out of the bathroom with a purpose tucked into my pocket. Denis stood there, looking pathetic. “Let’s go downstairs.”

I knew what I had to do.