Seven Graves, page 25
Alright, Sev…what do you know?
I know that I’ve been taken. We’ve both been taken. I know that she can’t be dead, otherwise…she wouldn’t be in here with me, would she? I don’t recognize the voices of the men standing outside that door…and I have no idea where the fuck I am, aside from the fact that this looks an awful lot like a storage container. My eyes drifted down my body…it doesn’t look like I’ve been fucked with, and the leftover soreness between my legs…that’s easily explained. I’ve been at it with Malek all night—Malek.
Is he alive?
My chest started moving quicker and my panic settled in. I’m trying to put the blurriest pieces together before everything went dark, but…I can’t. I came downstairs. Bridget was on the couch. I started making breakfast…somebody grabbed me and—
“Nighty-night, cleaning lady…”
They know who I am.
“B-Bridge…Bridget…” I whispered, my hand shaking as I reached for her. She didn’t move. “Bridget…”
“She’s awake.”
I winced and struggled to sit, dizzy and pissed enough to use whatever strength I have to rip the face off of whoever this jackass is that’s facing me from the door. He’s in a clean white button-down with gray slacks and shiny shoes. I’d like to shove one up his ass. His sandy hair isn’t slicked back like Malek’s, but it’s cut the same way. Otherwise…he’s spotless. The guy next to him seems a bit more rugged. Tattooed, but not as heavily as I am. Same color hair. Same blue eyes. He has arms the size of a tanker truck.
“Who the fuck are you? Whadd’you want?”
Neat freak smiled at me with a mouthful of straight white teeth. He’s not ugly, but he’s far from attractive. The other one just stared, crossing his massive arms.
“I can’t believe how much you look like her. Kinda gives me the creeps. It all makes sense.” What makes sense? Look like who? What the fuck is going on? “Lemme get right to the point, so you’ll know what’s at stake if you don’t play nice. I know who you are, and I know what you do when you’re not livin’ out your obviously fucked up childhood, playin’ dollies with people’s corpses.” My stomach flipped and I couldn’t swallow if I wanted to. “I’ll make this easy for ya, cherub. You’re gonna tell me what you did with my brother’s body, and I’ll call off the men watchin’ your family pretend they don’t live in a literal funeral home. And I thought our family business was bleak.”
“I don’t know your fucking brother. I have no idea who you are. Whatever this is doesn’t have a thing to do with me.”
“Does it not? There’s a tracker on every vehicle that leaves this house. If you don’t know my brother, then perhaps you could explain why we tracked his truck to the place we found you…among others. Yet…no truck. No brother.” He shoved his dainty hands into his pockets and smirked at me. “Curious, right?”
“Get fucked.”
“Zane…phone.” The beefcake passed a phone to Mr. Clean, and he fiddled with it a little before turning it towards me. “I’d be a bit more careful about your choice of words. I know your invitation over here was a bit rattling, so I’ll give you that…along with one last chance to rethink your answer. Maybe this helps.”
Live video feed of Greg and the girls getting into his car started playing in front of me and my arms felt loose with adrenaline. Like they could start ripping shit apart of their own accord. “I didn’t do anything to your fucking brother. I don’t even know his name. If you know who I am, then you know I get called to clean up messes that sloppy asshats like you make. Why threaten my family? I’m not the one that killed anybody.” I knew in my gut there was something off about this body. I knew it while I stood at the back of that truck with Malek. I never leave them whole unless they’re buried under someone else’s coffin. And I would never have the issue of a whole vehicle to dispose of. That’s why I burn rugs, take apart furniture and leave no trace. I’ve been breaking all my own rules ever since I met Malek, and the truth is…I’m the sloppy one.
“Because of the company you keep. Didn’t your Mommy ever warn you about that? Do you even know who you’re fucking? Do you know what he is? What he does? You know about the whore sleeping next to you?” I glanced over at Bridget who hadn’t moved at all. “You don’t…do you.” His smile was pure evil, and I’d give anything to watch Malek cut it from his face. “I almost feel sorry for you. You’ve landed yourself in a world you don’t belong, pet. But we’ll fix that. You should thank me for giving you grace, and I’m only giving it because of the reason I’ve come to understand of why somebody like Malek Byrne took a liking to you. You’ve got twelve hours to come clean. Then you’re gonna learn exactly what it takes to belong here. Make the right choice.”
“You hurt them, I swear to Christ, I’ll kill you myself.”
They wholly ignored me, turning and leaving down a dark hallway and no matter how many insults I threw out…neither one turned around. A loud metal door slammed beyond where I could see, echoing down the hall and I pulled my bare knees up to my chest, rocking in fucking delusion.
What have I done…
“Ugh…motherfuckers…”
Bridget is finally stirring. I’ve pressed my back against the wall for the past hour, gnawing holes through my bottom lip and waiting for her to explain all this to me. My arms banded around my knees, and I watched her palm her face, sitting and taking in the catastrophic predicament we’ve found ourselves in. She sighed hard and turned her face towards me.
“I know this is a fucking ridiculous question, but…are you okay?” Understatement. But I know why she’s asking. She’s probably wondering the same thing about herself. No part of me thinks that they tried anything other than knocking us out and throwing us in here. At least we’ve got that going for us.
“Physically, I seem fine. Are you?” She nodded and adjusted herself against the opposite wall, facing me and pulling her own knees up.
“He’s gonna come for us, Sev. I think that’s the whole point, anyway. If we’re here, then they left him alive. They’re baiting him.”
I laid my head back against the wall and tried to think about anything other than how cold I was or how hungry I’m starting to get. I’m also trying really hard not to get angry. It isn’t her fault, I know it. I only have myself to blame for landing my ass in this mess. But aside from it all, I’ve grown to care for them both. And she knows something.
“Who are these people?”
Bridget shifted and took her hair down to redo it. “They’re Kendall’s other brothers. Jonas and Zane. The prim and proper one is the one Malek is trying to keep from getting me. He’s the prick I’m supposed to be marrying.”
“I heard them talking to each other when I woke up. They’ve got eyes on my family, Bridget. My nieces. My brother. My parents. And Jonas is threatening to hurt them if I don’t tell him where Kendall’s body is. They tracked him to the vacation house.”
“So, that’s how they found us.” She tied her hair off in a messy knot on top of her head and slumped against the wall. “So, tell them. If they get his body, maybe they’ll at least let you go. But they’re not gonna do the same for me. Save yourself, Seven. You were never supposed to be a part of any of this shit.”
“I’m not fucking leaving you here. No matter what I do, somebody is gonna get hurt. If I tell him where that body is, he might let me live, but I’ll end up in fucking prison. My family name will be left with a stain on it, and they’ll probably always have someone watching them. I’m not giving them shit.”
Bridget snapped forward. “I deserve to be down here! You don’t. I like you a lot. I can see what Malek loves about you, Seven, and I know I’m young, but I’ve done bad things. Really bad things. I rope my own brother in to do it. This is the fate we deserve. You’re a cleaner. Get yourself outta here and run.”
“No. And if I’m gonna die in the next twelve hours, then you’re gonna tell me why. I’m big enough to own up to my own part in this. I signed up to help protect you.”
Bridget lowered her brows and stared at me. “Whadd’ya mean you signed up?”
I dropped my hands to the mattress. “Malek asked me to clean for him. Those two fucksticks are part of my job. And one other. He’s killing them all to keep you outta their hands, and I’m hiding the bodies. That’s our deal.”
“And what do you get out of it, Seven?”
Nothing. Not anymore. Nothing but the freedom to choose to be with him and look after Bridget. The satisfaction of knowing I’ve helped keep her safe. But at what cost? My own family? This is so, absolutely…fucked. I swallowed.
“He said he’d leave me alone. Let me be.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and tightened her mouth. “And that’s what you still want?”
“I dunno.”
We were silent for a few long moments, with nothing but the sound of something dripping down the hallway past the barred door. Then, she lowered her knees and crossed her legs, staring down at her lap. “He’s in love with you.”
“He barely knows me, Bridget.”
“And is that why you’re so unsure about what happens when it’s all over? Because you think nobody can see that you love him too?”
I chose not to answer. How do I explain to a child that I probably know as much about love as she likely does? I don’t know what I feel. The only one of us that probably knows the torture of something like love…is Malek. And I think I know why.
“Jonas said I look like her. Who is he talking about, Bridget?”
“It’s not my place to—”
“Shavonn?”
Her already pale skin went gray, and she swallowed loudly. She outright refused to look at me. “…Mal warned me. On the way to your apartment. He told me to chill when I saw you. I really didn’t understand what he meant until that morning you came out, bashing your foot on a coffin.” She snorted and stared at the floor. My chest started to ache, and honestly…I don’t even know why. The heaviest feeling of dread crawled over me. “The resemblance is kind of crazy, but…”
“Tell me this isn’t why he wouldn’t leave me alone.” Her silence and the long blank stare were answer enough. I’m a fucking fool. He was never over this woman, and he thought he’d have some part of her back through being with me. This…this is why I’ll end up an insane cat lady that lives in a funeral home. If I even make it to thirty. “He told me he killed her.”
Bridget’s face popped up, utterly confused. “He what?”
“Last night. Malek told me that he killed her. Did she betray him? Is that what’s gonna happen to me?”
“Dude, no.” She squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose as she raised up to stand and started pacing the small space. “He didn’t actually kill her, Sev. He blames himself for what happened to her. He’s a fucking idiot.”
“Tell me.”
She’s hesitating. I can see it in every move she makes. But she stood, her back facing me, and stared out the door to our little prison. “Malek grew up with her. We all did. I’ve heard stories of how they used to torture each other as kids. She’s pure Irish blood. Comes from a deep-rooted family across the pond. But Malek…he’s—we’re not.”
“What does that mean?”
Bridget turned around and leaned back against the bars. “Daddy married an American woman. My mom died having me. We’re not what the other families consider pure-blood. They call us half-breeds. No other family wants their daughter marrying Malek. Daddy thought that marrying me off to merge the families would help whatever stigma surrounds our name because he fell for my mother. It wouldn’t make us look so weak.”
This is starting to make more sense. And I’m beginning to realize I might be better off not knowing what she’s about to tell me. “So…he fell for her. And she got married off to the guy I cleaned up.”
“Pretty much, but it’s more than that. By the time Malek was old enough for Daddy to start teaching him how to do his duties to the family…he and Shavonn were inseparable. He didn’t know any other woman but her. He wanted a love like what our parents had, despite what we are. Malek was determined to run off and marry Shavonn one day. They just didn’t do it fast enough. And I feel like I might be a reason for that.”
“Because you think he stayed behind to raise you.”
Bridget teared up and nodded, hugging herself. “There was a big merge gathering with four of the Irish houses. A really big, uppity shindig, and…I didn’t really understand all of what was going on at the time. But Malek lost his mind. They announced Shavonn’s engagement to Braughton O’Dell. Shit went sideways. He killed three people that tried to restrain him that night. A week later…she was married. Malek did everything he could to keep it from happening. But it happened.”
So…that’s why he wears another man’s wedding band.
The finger. The savagery in that kill. The name carved into Braughton’s head. It’s all making sense. I feel like I’m gonna hurl.
“A couple months went by, and we all tried to fly under the radar, thinking of ways to break Shavonn out. But none of us knew what was happening on the other end. Nolan O’Dell, Braughton’s father, he started pushing them for a kid. Shavonn risked it all to send word to Malek. We got her message too late.”
“What happened to her, Bridget?”
She pushed off the door and turned to look back down the hallway. It was like she couldn’t look at me when she talked about it. Like she could see this girl all over me. It only made me feel worse. “One morning, I woke up to screaming. I was hungover as fuck. Honestly…still drunk, if you want the truth. Nothin’ sobers you up like the sound of your own brother, slowly dying inside. I knew it was him before my feet hit the floor. I made it to the top of the stairs and Finley and Declan had Mal by the shoulders. He was screaming at the top of his lungs in the main foyer, on his knees. I’d seen him torn up before…but not like that. Never like that. It was like his soul bled right out of him. They carried him to his room, and I tried to go, but Daddy pulled me back. He told me Shavonn had hung herself.”
“Did they kill her, Malek?”
“No…I did.”
“He took something that didn’t belong to him.”
“He disrespected me. Disrespected her. Disrespected you.”
“Mal is always gonna blame himself, Sev. He hasn’t been the same since Shavonn died. He’s more reckless. More bloodthirsty. He deals with his grief by covering it in blood and humor you’d be better suited to find in a nuthouse.” She smiled softly when she tipped her chin over her shoulder at me. “But then he met you. And I see how beautiful that broken part of him is now that it allowed some light back in. There wouldn’t be any way for him to feel that without what any of us have to go through before it. I can see little pieces of my brother again.”
This is very un-Bridget-like, considering the short time I’ve spent with her and getting to know her a bit better. For once, she doesn’t sound like a kid. She sounds like someone that’s had to grow up way too fast. And I know she means well…but I let my guard down. It has a lot to do with Malek’s charm…and a lot to do with my softness for a misunderstood young girl. A young girl I’ve seen too much of myself in. That’s where I got caught up, and that’s where I let my mask slip completely off. I did this to myself. My decision’s made.
If we make it outta this. It’s over. It has to be.
It isn’t real. Not for him, anyway. It’s just a lingering need of a heartsick lover. And I’m always gonna be that girl that nobody understands. The one that’s unlovable because of who I am. It’s okay. It’s all I’ve ever known. I’m just gonna have to be smarter about it once I get out from under this fucking train wreck.
“You’re gonna break it off in there. This isn’t a spy movie. Have you ever even done this shit before?”
I grit my teeth, holding my breath while I turned one of Bridget’s bobby pins in a jagged lock. It looks rusted out and probably hard enough to open with an actual key, let alone this stupid shit. “No, but I’m pretty sure it could work if I sit here and do it long enough.”
“Don’t you need two pins? Isn’t that the way they do it in movies?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know? I pump dead people full of embalming fluid, Bridge.”
She shrugged. “Fair point.”
“Well, this has been entertaining, but it’s getting rather boring now.”
I jerked back, the bent metal pin clinging to the dirty floor as Jonas strode through the shadows of the hallway and made his way towards the door. Bridget didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. I wish I had a little bit of that confidence right now.
“All this trouble to stick your bride in a torture chamber? Bit much, Jonas…even for you.”
“A bride by name only. Have a nice nap, did you?” He smirked coyly at her, and she gave it right back. She doesn’t look like the terrified prisoner she should be…and it’s making me nervous.
“Not nice enough. I saw your throat split wide open from ear to ear, and your pretty shirt all red and ruined…just to wake up and find it all a dream.” She clicked her tongue. “Shame. Guess it could be worse though. Could have been like your poor baby brother. Last I saw him, he had his own dick in his mouth.”
“Tell me where he is. I’m gettin’ real impatient, wifey.” His eyes shot towards me, and I tried to remember who the fuck I am. That’s Bridget’s trick. If she’s going down, she’s doing it with some dignity. That’s something she knows well…herself. That’s what I’m forgetting.
“Unbecoming quality of a man that’s supposed to eventually lead his own house. Didn’t you give us twelve hours?” I said…with a surprisingly solid voice. Jonas cocked his head.
“I gave you twelve hours, little witch. I didn’t say shit about this one.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you, prick. Might as well off me right here. I’m not fuckin’ scared. Can you say that?” Bridget took a bold step towards the door and Jonas smiled.
“And why would I be scared? I’m not the one that’s about as good as a dollar bill. Or a slave. Which is what you’ll soon be. How’s it feel to know you were just as easy a trade as my brother…and by your own father. We’re not much different after all, are we, pet?”
