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Chapter Six

Ruben

Six years later

I stared at our new house, almost giddy with excitement.

“Holy shit! Holy fucking shit! This place is insane!” Mase exclaimed beside me.

I couldn’t speak.

“This is seriously yours?”

Jackson looked like he was going to burst out laughing.

“It’s pretty special, right? Yep, it’s
ours
. Surprise! All your stuff is already inside – go check it out.”

I’ll be honest; I ran just as fast as Mase to get inside, neither of us could wait to see. I’d just celebrated my twentieth birthday the week before and Jackson had surprised both me and Mase by telling us that we were moving from Birmingham, where we had lived for the last six years, to London - the freaking capital city of England!

He knew I’d always wanted to go to university in London, and as always, he’d made it happen.

A lot can change in six years and my life was everything I’d ever wanted and much, much more.

We laughed every day. We worked hard, we played hard and we lived life. Not to say it was easy straight away, because it wasn’t.

I spent the first few months after our parents had been killed in the fire - in foster care because Jackson had to fight to keep us. The social workers were all in agreement that he was too young to raise two teenage boys. We proved them wrong. Every home they placed us in, we ran away, back to Jackson, always.

It became a game, of sorts.

We were minors, but we weren’t children - hadn’t been children for years before that. So we pretty much forced their hand.

We also had to lie to the police about the circumstances surrounding the fire. Convincing them that we always spent time with Jackson and that, that night wasn’t a rare occurrence, wasn’t exactly easy.

We didn’t know what happened. I think by then, we’d convinced ourselves to believe the lie enough, that the police believed us too.

So it was tough, for a while.

But standing in the main room of our new home, I couldn’t have felt any happier. The whole room was decorated in blacks and greys, with the odd splash of white and Jackson’s huge TV had pride of place on the wall. Pure masculinity. It was ours.

“Hey, little brother! Your room is up the stairs, second door on the left. Mase, yours is the first one on the right.”

I ran up the stairs and opened the door to my new room, I sucked in a breath so fast that my head spun.

Everything was organised, clean, and tidy – just the way I needed my things. My king-size bed was against the wall in the centre and I had built in wardrobes surrounding it. But my eyes were drawn to my pride and joy, sitting on my desk, right underneath the window, looking out over the garden.

Jackson had money, that was no secret, but I worked my ass off to save up and buy myself a
Macbook Pro
computer. It was something I’d always wanted and the first thing I’d ever saved for. I’m a computer geek, so sue me.

I laughed. I laughed so hard that my sides cramped and my cheeks ached. Every single day, I woke up thinking I was living a dream, but I knew that I wasn’t dreaming anymore – because that was more than I ever could have wished for.

I loved my life.

My laughter continued as I heard Mase bouncing around like a hyperactive child and Jackson chuckling at him. There was no better feeling than being in a house filled with laughter.

I never allowed myself to think of the past, ever. Not the people, the places, the drugs. Nothing. Regardless of what he
thought
he’d convinced me of, I still knew he’d taken huge
life-changing
risks to rescue us. I had decided a long time ago that I was going to live every day of my life like it was my last - that was the only way I could think of thanking Jackson, rewarding him even, for doing what he did.

I couldn’t say it. My mind wouldn’t let me form the words.

He started that fire. He killed our parents.

What’s the saying? Sometimes good people do bad things. Yeah, that definitely applied, because he
was
a good person. He just technically did a bad thing. I say technically, because let’s face it, no one will ever miss our parents and he inadvertently saved our lives.

So yeah, I made sure I enjoyed life every day, even if it was the smallest thing.

I sat in my new leather computer chair and logged on to my computer. The second I did, my life took another turn. My head spun.

An instant message popped up on the screen.

Lucas Romero:
Well well. So you do still exist?

I stared at the screen for a good five minutes before responding.

Ruben Brent:
Holy shit! How are you Luc?

Lucas Romero:
Yeah, listen, let’s skip the bullshit. I need a favour.

I frowned at the screen, not sure if he was joking with me. I decided he probably wasn’t and I felt guilty about not keeping in contact with him.

Ruben Brent:
Um, sure. What can I do for you?

Lucas Romero:
Long story, gimme your number, I’ll call you.

I gave him my number and sat holding my phone, waiting for his call. The phone buzzed and I picked up immediately.

“Hi...”

“I’m going to jail.” Was his opening line.

“What the fuck?”

“Everything you left behind? Well it’s worse. And me and Lydia...you remember her? My baby sister whose heart you broke? Her. We’re right in the middle of it.”

The thought of little Lydia made my heart falter. I had tried to put everything from back then in a tiny box in the back of my mind and never think about it.

“Ok...” I dragged the word out, ignoring his verbal jabs. “So what do you need from me?”

“She knows I’m going to jail, I got busted for dealing. She’s not the same girl she was back then and she did something really fucking stupid; now Freddy’s out for blood...her blood specifically.”

“Oh my God.”

“Uh huh. Yep, sounds about right. So, I have my court date in three days, I can watch her until then, but can you help? I mean afterwards...can you get her away from here? She doesn’t have anyone else now.”

I thought about their mum and dad and I knew they wouldn’t protect her like they should.

Fucking drug addicts.

“Your mum and dad still the same then, yeah?”

He snorted. “The same? No, they’re worse too. Dad’s in jail too, for armed robbery. Mum can’t pull her head out of her ass long enough to know what fucking day it is. She’s usually too high anyway.”

I felt my jaw tense. Those bastards had no clue what they had wasted. I remembered Lydia, how could I ever forget? She didn’t deserve that life.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I knew it could be a dangerous situation.

“So what did she do? Why does she need to get away?”

His silence was telling. I wasn’t going to like whatever he said.

“She um...she rang the police and told them that she’d witnessed Freddy start the fire that killed your parents and that he murdered Mrs Henley, the old lady who used to live next door.” He spat the words out in a rush.

That wasn’t just bad.

That was really, really fucking bad.

“Holy shit!”

“Told you it was bad. They haven’t picked him up yet, they said they can’t find him, but I’m not stupid and if he doesn’t already know who grassed him up, he will soon. She can’t be here when he comes for her. He’ll fuck her up for sure.”

I didn’t even have to think about it.

“Give me a time and a place, I’ll sort something out and I’ll be there.”

“Just get here in the next three days and you know where she’ll be.”

Before he hung up, I quickly added, “I hope you don’t get too long...I missed you.”

He was silent for so long, I checked the phone to make sure he hadn’t already disconnected. Then I heard him sigh.

“They reckon I’ll get seven to ten years. I could be out in five on good behaviour. First offense and that, you know? Maybe when I get out, I can give you the beat down you deserve for leaving us without a word but...I missed you too, brother.”

And he hung up.

My heart was in my throat. How could I have severed all contact to them? I loved them, I missed them and I owed Lucas huge.

I could do this for him, for her.

Lydia Romero.

Damn, it had been a while since I’d let myself think about her. I wondered what she was like now and if she was ok. Guess I’d find out real soon.

*~*~*

Lydia

I knew my time was coming to an end. I could feel it with every fibre of my being. My bare feet pounded the pavement but I didn’t focus on the pain of the stones and broken glass piercing my skin, I couldn’t. I focused on surviving. On getting away from the hell my world had descended into.

It wasn’t my life, it couldn’t be. I was Lydia Romero. Spoilt, beautiful, innocent Lydia Romero.

Everyone said so.

“Aww, isn’t she adorable. You must be so proud.”
I heard Mrs Henley saying to my mum over and over again in my head. Poor Mrs Henley would be turning in her grave if she saw what they’d done to me.

I heard them cackling behind me and I knew I had to move faster: to where, I had no idea. Just keep moving, run as fast as you can and it’ll all be ok. I convinced myself of it.

I turned the corner and stopped dead.

Oh fuck.

Freddy stood there, leaning against the swings, grinning from ear to ear, a sinister grin. My blood froze in my veins. I was sure I was going to die, I felt the fight drain out of me and crumbled to the floor, wincing at the pain that shot through my knees.

My body gave up, my heart gave up and I quickly realised that it would be easier to just give in. I could handle pain, I’d learnt how to, but I had a feeling that whatever he was going to do to me would be so much more that just
pain.

I saw his feet touch the pavement in front of me and I braced.

“Now, now little Ladybug. Why would you go and do a stupid thing like running away from me, huh?” He breathed. I didn’t speak.

“
Answer me!
” I jumped, but still didn’t speak. I had nothing left to give him.

He tutted. “Don’t worry little girl, we all make mistakes,” he paused and I could just picture him looking deep in thought for a second. “Though not everyone goes to the police and makes false statements.”

I fought back the urge to roll my eyes. He wasn’t lying, but that’s not to say he didn’t deserve what I’d done to him.

He grabbed me by the arms and pulled me up to rest against his chest.

“Who’s my good girl?” He asked, his voice laced with a sinister undertone.

I swallowed, but remained silent once again. I didn’t want to be his good girl.

“That’s right Ladybug, you are.”

I felt a sharp pain in my neck, and my world faded.

*~*~*

Ruben

Three days felt like an eternity, but I sat in my car driving the seventy mile journey to the past, having no idea why I was doing it alone, or what I was actually going to do when I got there.

Turning into the familiar neighbourhood, I felt a shiver crawl up my spine when I looked at the same dull, run-down houses and roads littered with broken glass.

I pulled over for a second when I saw our old house. Metal sheets covered the windows and the old front door, but it wasn’t exactly secure seeing as the whole roof had caved in and all that remained was charred black support beams from the fire.

It didn’t surprise me that no one had done anything about knocking it down or rebuilding it. No one cared enough about the area to do that. The whole front of the house was decorated with graffiti and the front garden was more than a little overgrown.

What did surprise me though, was that I felt...nothing. I thought maybe I’d feel angry, or sad, or disappointed – but I just didn’t feel a thing. It was just a building, and I’d long since buried the memories of my life there.

I restarted the engine and headed over to Lydia’s house. I jogged up the front path and knocked on the door. My mouth dropped open when her mum answered – but then I wasn’t even sure it was definitely her mum.

The woman who stood in front of me was frail and haggard and looked about twenty years older than she was.

Drugs will do that to a person I guess.

“Can I help you?” She rasped.