Cut Me Free (10 page)

“Oh, I didn't hear you.” I have to step closer to Cam to let Gino pass with a tray of food. I notice a slight shake of his head before he walks out into the dining room and I turn my attention to Cam.

“What's going on?” His eyes watch close, taking in my every movement. It's unsettling.

“I'm considering a change of careers already.” My shoulders slump forward. “I told you I wouldn't be any good at this.”

“Not that.” Cam reaches up to put one hand on my upper arm, but when my eyes widen he drops it again. “What happened just now? You seem spooked.”

“Nothing.” I shrug. “I felt like someone was watching me.”

His eyebrows drop lower. “Where?”

“I'm sure it's nothing.” The goose bumps on my arm tell me, and probably Cam, that it isn't nothing. I rub my hand across my skin, planning to check it out myself when I'm done talking to Cam. My other hand keeps diving into my pocket and searching around for the bolt, even though I know it won't be there. I silently curse myself again for forgetting it.

“We both know you're running from something. You hired me to help you.” His face is just above my ear and with two quick steps he switches our positions so I'm the one against the wall. “Tell me where he is.”

I stare in his eyes, trying to show him I don't need his help, but he doesn't flinch.

“Where?”

“Fine. Far corner booth, left side.”

He gives me a dark smile before stepping out into the dining room and leaving me alone in the hall. After a few deep breaths, I try to convince myself that this one time my senses were wrong. They were off somehow. Nothing and no one was watching me.

Cam returns, leads me down the hall past the break room and into an empty office currently being used for storage. I can't tell anything from his expression.

“Well?”

“Stay here. I'll be right back.” He shuts the door behind him.

I'm starting to panic. Maybe my instinct was right. Had someone found the Parents' bodies and connected them to me? Did they find me? That seems like a stretch. Or worse, was it possible they weren't really dead?

It couldn't be. Images of blood-soaked clothing and carpets fill my vision as I drop onto the couch. Everything was over after they made me bury Sam. It was too late for any of us.

Flashes of emotion, the pure wild fury, the way my vision slanted to one side, they all pound against my brain like captives against a locked door. Everything is vivid, the colors skewed until all I see is red. The Mother comes to get my chains after I throw the last shovelful of dirt over my brother's body. When she clicks open the locks, she puts the knife to my back and tells me to go inside. I've seen her scars. I know what I am to her. She used to be the Father's victim. He used to hurt her like he does me. That's why she agreed to stay with him. They made a deal. I'm her substitute, her shield. Sam was an accident. They hadn't wanted her to get pregnant. I'd heard them talking about it. I guess two shields were better than one. And now she's grown to like the power of causing pain to others the same way the Father does.

The Mother nudges me, causing the dull blade of her knife to cut into the skin of my back. It hurts, but I can't feel the pain like I could before. She wants me back in my dark attic where Sam won't be waiting for me. He won't ever be with me again.

“The Boy is gone. Go upstairs.”

When I turn to face her instead, her stance is relaxed. She knows I won't fight, I never have before. I was too afraid. Of what? That they'll kill me? That would be a relief now. I deserve it after what I let them do to Sam.

“His name is Sam.” My words are ice and fire, frigid and furious.

She stumbles and then takes another step forward. “What did you say?”

“I said, his name is Sam. And my name is Piper.”

“You little…” She walks toward me. Her head is an easy target, so within reach. There is no logic, only wrath, only bitter hatred as I swing the shovel and she's down. The formidable opponent so easily stomped beneath my feet. I let the shovel fall to the earth beside her.

I stand over the Mother, panting, my thoughts trapped in a hazy fog where everyone I've ever known is dead or dying. Everyone but the man who deserves it most. The Father curses when he walks onto the porch and his eyes meet mine. It is the first time—the only time—I've seen fear in their blue depths. It lingers there for only an instant, until they harden and he steps backward. He doesn't even blink as he moves slowly, steadily, toward the rack just inside the door where he keeps his gun. I can see it in his eyes. The game is over. It's time to sweep away the toys.

He's going to kill me, but not before I do everything in my power to make him pay for what he did to my little brother.

My heart pounds blood through my veins so fast that everything else slows in comparison. I reach down and tug the knife free from beneath the Mother's hand. My muscles coil beneath me and explode up as I launch forward. My fury won't let me stop. His fingers scratch across the wood, flipping the latch, but I'm faster than either of us expects. My knife slices through his arm. Damaging his muscle, so when he reaches for the gun it dangles limply from his fingers.

Losing Nana and Sam in a few weeks was more than even I could take. The Father said they were punished for my mistakes. Both of their deaths were my fault. Now he had been punished, too.

I shake my head hard and push my palms against my temples, trying to shove away the images of what I'd done. I don't want to see this, don't want to think about the loss of control and sanity. About the blood pumping in my ears so loud, so hard I couldn't think. Couldn't do anything but stab him. Even with the gun in his grasp, the Father couldn't protect himself from the monster I'd become.

They were barely alive when I walked to their bedroom, took the money they'd stolen from Nana, and ran.

I push my fingertips hard over my eyelids. No more thinking about them. They couldn't have survived. Impossible.

Not them. No, not them again. Never again.

Who else could've been watching me from the booth? I'd walked past Brothers's apartment today on my way to work. It is little more than rubble. He couldn't have survived that. Every instinct urges me to run home to Sanda, just in case, to be certain he hasn't taken her again.

He deserved to die. He had to. He was a bad man.

My chest hurts, quick gasps burn my lungs. I focus my energy and draw in a deep breath, trying to keep it as steady as I can. Whatever is happening, now is not the time to panic.

Cam walks in, smiling, and I'm across the room in an instant.

“What happened?” My fingers are gripping onto his shirt before I realize what I'm doing, but I don't care. “Who is it?”

“Whoa, calm down.” He curses under his breath and wraps both arms around me. Everything inside me withdraws from the world, the fear, his touch. I crumple to the floor and scoot into the corner to escape.

He keeps talking, his voice low enough I can barely hear him with my face buried against my knees. “I'm so sorry I scared you.” The remorse in his tone is pure and his concern reaches out to me through it, offering acceptance that I don't know how to receive. “There isn't anyone in that booth. Mary doesn't remember seating anyone there. Your eyes must've been playing tricks on you.”

My fingers are balled into fists that refuse to release, and my emotion leaves me in a huge gush. I lean my head against the wall behind me, unable to hold it up under the mountain of everything that has happened in the last year. Flashes of Sam's body, his fresh grave, the blood, the Parents, the burning house, Brothers's closet, Sanda's eyes. They pelt me from every direction, unexpected, like hail in a summer storm. I don't cry—I can't. But I'm humming, and Sam's humming, and I feel I might break under the weight of everything I've done, everything I've lost.

I don't know how many minutes pass, but when I become aware again Cam is sitting beside me, as close as possible without touching me. I hear a slight scratching sound and look down to see he's rubbing his hand against the ground beside my fist, like somehow the comfort will pass through the ground and into me. I steal choking gasps of air. I don't know when I stopped humming, but Sam continues in my head. It's slower, quieter. Like Sam is trying to make me feel better.

I've calmed enough to be embarrassed now, but I'm not. The wall that keeps my past carefully caged has crumbled and I can't do anything to rebuild it. It's good not to be alone, that Cam didn't leave me, didn't run away. He raises his hand off the ground, holding it still in the air, and waits. Without his saying a word, I know he wants to help. Sucking in a deep breath, I realize I want it, too—a small piece of protection, of human comfort. My hand shudders as I slide it beneath his and he lowers his hand to rest over my still-closed fist. It's better than I hoped. He shouldn't feel good, not this good. But his warmth penetrates my skin and sinks deep into me. His smell fills me with peace and knowledge that everything will be okay. I want to stay here. I want him to help me through it. More than that, I think I need someone if I'm going to make it through this at all. I can't do it alone.

And that scares me more than the disappearing man from the corner booth.

The door opens and Lily walks in. Her jaw drops, then her lips curve into a sneer. I move to twist my fist free, but Cam's hand tightens and won't let me go.

“If you two are done making out, maybe she can go help Mary. She doesn't get any privileges because of you, Cam. Specifically, taking an extra-long break just so you can ‘make sure she's all right,'” she mutters, as she walks toward the door, but her next words are crystal clear. “She looks just fine to me.”

As soon as she walks out, Cam releases his grip. I slide my hand out and get up from the floor. Yeah,
now
I'm embarrassed. It's important he understand that this doesn't … can't mean anything—even if I am still overwhelmed by his kindness and the warmth lingering from his hand on mine. “Thank you, and I'm sorry. I've had a hard time lately and you were there. It won't happen again.”

He gets to his feet and moves toward the door. His eyes are guarded, but I can see a lingering sadness beneath. “It's fine. I'm only doing what you paid me for.”

A very tall, very loud man blocks the door before it's even all the way open. “Hey, Marco!” He slaps Cam across the shoulder. I move a few steps back. The name Marco sends a chill through my veins and suddenly makes Cam look less trustworthy in my eyes.

“Me and the boys need to talk to you about a few things.”

Cam shakes his head before the other man even finishes. “Not now, Oscar.”

“Oh, now's not convenient for you, is it? What if we decide not to make it optional?” His voice lowers a bit and he turns and his eyes find mine, looking me over before he leers back at Cam. “Well now, who is this?”

Cam's expression flashes anger as he glances back at me, but just as quickly it's gone. “Her name is Charlotte.”

Oscar winks and nudges Cam with his elbow. “Yeah, sure it is.”

Cam ignores him and continues. “She's new. She'll be replacing Mary.”

“I'd better get back to work. Thanks for your help, Marco.” I slide past them into the hallway. The way Oscar's eyes move over me is making my skin crawl to get away.

“No.” Cam's voice is sharp, but his eyes beg me not to argue, not this time, so I stay silent. He turns back to Oscar. “Wait in Lily's office. I'll be right there.”

Oscar inclines his head and grins at me before walking away.

I follow Cam back into the room, staying close to the door. Everything he's ever told me suddenly feels colored with shadows of doubt.

“Marco is my first name. Marco Cameron Angelo.” He stares me straight in the eye as he continues. “My mom wanted Cameron, my dad wanted a family name, and I prefer my mom's choice.”

I tilt my chin down but don't say anything. He steps closer, and with my back against the door already, I can't retreat. “I swear to you. You clearly have your reasons not to trust people, but I want you to trust me. Everything I've told you is true.”

His warmth seems to jump across the inches between us, and I have to fight the pull I feel toward him.

“Trust doesn't matter. Neither does your name, honestly, and I'd better get to work before Lily comes for me.” I give him a half smile and continue. “I really don't want to face her wrath any more than I have to.”

Cam sighs, resigned, then reaches out and inches even closer, grabbing the handle to the door behind me. Every move he makes, every word he utters fills me with a confused sort of longing. It makes me feel like I'm losing control, and I know I shouldn't like that, but somehow it isn't bad with him. “I'd hate to get you in any more trouble with Lily on your first day.” His breath is warm through the fabric covering my shoulder.

I slide a step to my right so he can open the door, then I walk through it without a word or a glance back in his direction.

*   *   *

Before I leave for the night, I'm certain I've proven I'm the worst employee ever. I used the wrong cleanser and stained the bathroom counter, broke three glasses, and offended their most loyal customer when I couldn't make myself shake his hand.

“I'm sorry. Maybe next time will be better?” I shouldn't have agreed to take this job to begin with.

“It wasn't
that
bad,” Lily lies, then shrugs and groans as she rolls her shoulders back. “I'm exhausted.”

“Right, thanks. I'll see you later.” I walk to the door, but when I open it I see a man standing across the street in the shadows. He doesn't move, he watches, he waits. My body goes cold and I step back, slamming the heavy door. It's the only thing I can put between us besides the city street and the night air. When I hear a crash I scramble behind a table and everything is silent.