But there were more questions that needed answering.

“The text message,” I said, waiting for him to come clean once again.

He frowned. “What’re you talking about?”

“There was a photo sent to my phone of a girl trying to kiss Jaxon at a club. One that almost broke us up.”

“I have nothing to do with that. If I did, I’d tell you.”

Damn. I was mentally exhausted and emotionally drained.

“Thank you for telling me the truth,” I muttered. He could have easily left me in the dark about it. Instead, he confessed it all at the risk of changing how I felt about him.

I went to hand him back the bracelet – he did steal it off Jaxon after all and had kept it all these years – and he looked down at my hand stupidly. “It’s yours, Sara. I don’t want it.”

Minutes passed by. I dangled the bracelet in my hands, watching it shimmer under the light, feeling good I was holding onto something that Jaxon had once touched.

“So what now?” I asked. “Are all the Jackals going to make me suffer the consequences of my actions?” In other words, am I going to die?

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he answered softly. “I told Manny I sent you to the surveillance room to meet with me, but that you got there before I did. That you’re just a curious girl I hadn’t explained the rules to.”

And so he redeems himself by lying to Prez in order to protect me. Cue more internal conflict. “He couldn’t have bought that.”

Remy shrugged coolly. “It doesn’t matter. That’s my word against his. He can’t do shit about it.”

“Well, thank you. For covering me.”

He went to grab my hand but hesitated. Then he tapped his fingers against the mattress thoughtfully and replied, “Next time come to me, and I promise you’ll get your answers.”

I nodded rigidly.

The silence that followed wasn’t comfortable. It was awkward as hell. Both of us were immersed in our own world of thinking; the only way to bridge the gap would have been to show some affection. I could make things right again by bringing him into my embrace and continuing on as though it never changed.

But the days of my pretending that everything was alright were over. I wouldn’t make-believe a reality in order to make others around me happy. So I didn’t comfort him.

He got up after a while, stared lovingly at me in a way that stole my breath. Then he left the room.

The second he did, I hurriedly put the bracelet around my wrist, clasping it with a click that felt more like it was emanating from my heart than anything else.

*****

Tears fell from my eyes. The second I stepped back into the house, I was held down to the ground by a fat arm. My head thumped, and my eyes swelled from the pressure he was putting on me.

“Where the fuck were you?!” he shouted. His saliva hit my face and around my mouth, tasting of alcohol and cigarettes.

“I was out with my friend!” I cried.

“Leave hur alun, Noman,” Mom slurred from behind him.

“Shut the fuck up, Joanne,” he growled. “This little slut thinks she can come and go as she wants wearin’ nothin’ but a fuckin’ see through top with her tits out to the world. Ain’t no daughter of mine is gonna do that shit! Ain’t no fuckin’ daughter of mine, you hear?”

I sobbed, feeling the cold tile numb my cheek.

“How old are you?!” he screamed.

“T-t-twelve,” I stuttered.

“Then you look like a fuckin’ twelve year old!”

“Take hur to the used shop,” slurred Mom again. “She might need mo’ clothes.”

Norman let go of me abruptly and turned in Mom’s direction. I hurriedly got up and watched as he grabbed her suddenly by the hair and dragged her off the couch. Surprisingly, she didn’t make a sound, but her eyes were bulging out of her skull as she waited for his strikes.

“Now why would I take her down to a shop that man owns?” he barked at her. His eyes had gone cold as blood as he brought her close to his face. “Or is that what you want? Answer me, bitch!”

Joanne shook her head cogently.

“Then shut your fat fucking head up.”

Joanne nodded adamantly, telling him over and over again that he was right.

I slipped by without his notice and hurried to my room all the while wondering how the mention of a man could make Norman erupt so suddenly.

Sixteen

Day three since I saw Jaxon at the park. And day three of awkward communication with Remy. He was looking for ways to keep busy, otherwise he’d be somewhere nearby watching me. During the day he’d go on “business” runs with the guys, and day two he returned with bloody knuckles and a “don’t ask” look on his face as he rushed to wash it off.

Day three he packed a bag and said he had another business run a few hours out of town and that he would be away for two nights. Without a kiss good bye, he left with most of the guys. I knew what some of these business runs entailed to, hearing it nonstop from Fritz who had currently passed out on the couch and missed out on going. Some of the things included partying, drinking hard and fucking women. Meanwhile the old ladies were followed around by whatever Jackal remained and kept carefully close. Fair, huh?

I was seeing things from a different light. My entire stay here had been an illusion of freedom. I knew without a doubt he’d never let me go. And what if I did have the choice? Well then… that’s what pissed me off the most. I didn’t know what I’d do. Would I stay? Would I go? Were my feelings for him real or the outcome of our forced inseparability all these months?

On my way to the kitchen that day, I ignored Rita’s dirty looks. Clearly she didn’t have a sense of smell sitting on the couch next to a passed out Fritz and reading a glamour magazine. She hadn’t talked to me since that barbecue, but her looks alone carried silent conversations of hate. Death to Sara, these looks said.

I placed two slices of bread in the toaster and waited patiently around the kitchen island.

It was while I was slapping a shit load of butter on my toast that an alarm unexpectedly sounded. It was a loud, screeching kind of alarm that had me throwing my hands over my ears. I vaguely heard screams…Then, to my horror, gun shots.

I abandoned my work of buttered art and cautiously stepped out of the kitchen. Remy had warned me about the alarms once. He said if I heard them to head to my room as soon as humanly possible. It sounded when there were intruders, and now for fucking certain I knew there were because the gun shots continued to sound in the near distance.