I stare at the tiny black-and-white photo in the locket. It’s old and a little faded. But it clearly is a family – mom, dad, brother and sister.
“That’s Harry and his family.” Jackson is walking up and down my living room. It’s the Blackburn way of thinking … they all do that. But they also have their own unique thing too.
For instance, Mel would rub a piece of cloth, usually her sleeve, between her thumb and index finger – indicating that she’s either deep in thought or pretty anxious.
Logan takes the locket from me. “This locket came from the person who stabbed you?” he asks as confirmation. I remember that Jackson shoved something into Axel’s hand before they took him away. I’m just not sure why he didn’t tell us about it sooner.
“Yes, I grabbed it while we struggled. I almost got the fucker’s hood off too, but I was a little short of breath.” Jackson stops and stares through the large window into the darkness. It’s a cold rainy night.
“This Harry guy is now what … in his fifties I suppose? Ilkay asks looking at his uncle.
“Yeah, he is about our age.”
“Now why would he threaten Mel?” Ilkay continues, “Is he some kind of pervert? And could he be strong enough to overpower Jackson?” Asking questions – mostly to himself – that’s Ilkay’s unique way of thinking.
“He didn’t overpower me. I was cleaning my dick in the toilet cubicle and he snuck up on me,” Jackson scolds. “Not much space in there to make big turns. Fucking coward.” He hits the glass with the side of his fist. Fortunately, it’s a robust bulletproof variety that doesn’t shatter or break easily. Great forward-thinking safety precautions, courtesy of my father, while building my home. Let’s just say he had to do a few restorations, which included smashed windows, during my lifetime.
“But you’re right. I think the boy in the picture is the one harassing Mel.” I take back the locker. The boy in the pick looks to be around 14, which would make him 25 now. I stare into his dark eyes.
Where have I seen him before?
Or maybe I’m just finally losing it. Yesterday even the puppy trainer looked kind of familiar.
“I remember the boy,” Jackson then says, “He was a little older than me, but he always got on my nerves. I beat him up … a lot.” Makes sense.
“Do you remember his name?” I ask hopefully.
“It was Derrick … or Darren … or something. I wasn’t particularly interested in knowing him.”
Enrique takes the locket and frowns. “Okay, let me get this clear,” he says slowly. “More than a decade ago, this Harry guy tried to find proof that our wonderful grandfather, Alexander, stole money from The Circle … but he got betrayed by his wife, was tortured, escaped, and now after all this time, his son comes after Mel. Am I missing something? Or is the dude just a crazy sicko?”
“Nope, I think you pretty much summed it up,” Jackson grunts mysteriously without turning back. “He’s pretty much just fucking loony.” Great. As if things are not complicated enough, some old bastard and his bat-crazy son are stalking us.
I lean back into the leather couch and stretch out my legs, peeping at Mel next to me without moving my head. She’s tense. I know because she’s doing the little tell-tale … rubbing the hem of her sleeve. I slide my leg so it’s touching hers.
I really hope today is the day I will get to talk to her. Mom is ready for her part, getting the boys to leave without their sister. I’m not so sure I’m ready for mine, though.
“Did this Harry guy kill our mom?” Mel asks softly and I can practically feel the vibrations from the trembling she is trying so desperately to control.
Her anguish breaks my heart. My whole being wants to pull her into my chest and protect her from the world.
Jackson turns back, but stays in place, going bleak. His eyes, I swear, look like blue fires. Combine that with his pale face etched against the darkness in the window behind him – and he has a grim forbidding look that chills my bones.
John looks at Jackson as if sharing a secret. What are they hiding? And more importantly, why are they hiding stuff? Uncle John plows his fingers through his graying hair.
“Ah, fuck it,” Jackson swears then. “Harry didn’t kill our mom, Alexander did.” I scan the room, taking in each one’s reaction. It seems that Ilkay and Enrique knew, they’re not surprised by this news. But Logan and Mel certainly are.
I dig my nails into the upholstery of the couch to keep my hands from reaching out to her.
“And I think it’s time for coffee,” Mom gets up and walks to the kitchen. Kiara follows her, clearly just as much in shock as her friend.
Logan jumps up and slams his hands over the back of his uncle’s chair. I know that look. He’s upset. And pissed. “What else are you hiding?” He glares at his uncle. “Is Dad still alive?” he hisses in anger. “Do you know who planted the car bomb? Why did Alexander kill Mom?”
Their uncle looks lost. And it may just be me, but he has heartbreak written all over him.
Jackson grabs his younger brother and pushes him against the wall. I sit up straight, poised, and ready to back up my friend if need be. Logan might be the biggest brother, but he’s no match for Jackson.
How do I know? Cause we’ve had our fair share of fights between us over the years.
One-on-one, Jackson is the best fighter, with me and Axel sharing second. Then Ilkay, Logan, and lastly Enrique. Not that Enrique is weak, cause he can stand his man pretty darn well, and he throws a mean punch if needed, he just doesn’t like to fight.
And when a fight breaks out in the group, each of us chooses a side – usually, I’m with Logan; Ilkay and Enrique go with who’s right; Axel backs Jackson, who either fights or protects everyone.
“Calm down, bro,” Jackson raps, “Uncle’s not the enemy. If we hide stuff, it’s because it’s for your best interest.” Logan shoves him away.
“Fuck off.” He walks off. I watch him go, knowing he first needs some time to clear his head alone before he will talk to me. Kiara runs after him and moments later there’s the sound of his car driving off.
“Is Dad still alive?” Mel repeats the question, looking between her brother and her uncle. Jackson sighs.
“He’s alive,” Uncle John answers. Pain and hate fill her eyes. I know what she’s thinking – he left them. Abandoned his own kids. She hates him, but it still hurts.
I don’t know the man, but I believe that a story always has two sides. And if you only look from your point of view, you only get to see half of a whole, and it warps into a malformed picture, keeping you from seeing the real truth.
Mom comes back with a tray filled with steaming cups, cream flowing down the sides, and pink marshmallows on top. Everyone seems eager for the caffeine boost and for a while, we drink in silence.
“So we know that Harry and most likely his son D-whatever, is sending messages and they tried to kill me and Damion already,” Enrique says calmly, “So what happens now? Do we go to the cops?”
“No,” Jackson groans, “We have no proof. We’re going to find them, but you all need to be a little more vigilant. No one should go anywhere alone, especially you two girls.”
Mel’s phone suddenly rings from where it’s lying on the couch between us. She jolts and slaps her hand over her mouth so I grab it. She’s on edge and tense as a rolled-up spring.
“Can I help you?” I answer in a harsh voice.
“Eh … where’s Mel?” he sounds caught off guard. Probably didn’t expect me to answer.
“She’s busy, can I give her a message?”
“Tell her to call me.” Yeah, not gonna happen. I put the phone down without even saying bye.