Marionette (33 page)

I wondered who
he
was, but didn’t ask.

It seemed like hours later that a man carrying a black bag walked into the room. He unraveled the cloth around my wrist and I saw a gash where my monkey tattoo used to be. The blood smeared all over my arm reminded me of a painting Jess and I had recently seen at the art exhibition. What was the name of the artist?

Another man entered, and he and Jess stood in the corner, whispering to each other. Then that man left abruptly and Jess was at my side again, talking sweetly. I couldn’t hear her words.

When I saw the needle, I realized this was the same guy who had stitched me up once before. But this time, I hadn’t cut myself. Davie. Davie had cut me.

Why?

I couldn’t remember.

I stared into Jess’s eyes, which were filled with tears. One large tear plopped onto my jeans and I watched it spread and melt into the denim. What painting did that remind me of?

Jess said something, but not to me, and the man nodded. Then I saw him plunge the needle into a vial of clear liquid. Before I could react, the needle pricked my skin and entered my vein.

Almost immediately, I let out a long sigh and leaned back on the couch, letting them fiddle with my arm. Their fingers poked and prodded my arm and along my neck. I shut my eyes on the whole thing. I felt like I was drifting off. A smile crept onto my face and I thought, “It’s over. The pain, it’s over.”

I had always wondered how I would die. Now I knew. And I wasn’t scared. I was relieved.

Chapter Twenty-Five

What was that racket? Cautiously, I pried my eyes open and looked around the room. My head hurt. My neck itched and burned. There was pain. Where was the pain?

I heard a scuffle outside the window and ducked under the blanket, fearful. Then I heard a cry.
Not human
, I thought. I lifted the duvet off my head and peeked out the window. Two cats fought briefly and then the loser scurried away. The victor licked one of its front paws.

Why did I hurt?

I started to pat my body to localize the pain. Slowly, events started to flood my mind. Reaching for my wrist, I winced.

“The cut isn’t too bad.”

Jess leaned against the doorframe, her head resting on the wood. She looked beat. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen her tired. A blanket wrapped her petite body and she looked tiny. Frail.

I wanted to rush to her, hold her, make it better, but something held me back.

Davie. Jess. The pink money package.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to banish the thoughts. “Why?” I croaked.

She didn’t bother pretending. “It’s a long story, Paige.” Her words sounded flat and lifeless.

“Why can’t I think straight?” I couldn’t move either, I noticed.

“Steve gave you something so you could sleep.”

“Can I have more?”

Jess straightened up. A pitcher of water stood on the nightstand along with a bottle of pills. Cracking the lid off the bottle, she dexterously separated one pill and handed it to me. I eyed it suspiciously, but I didn’t want to face anything at the moment. Jess handed me a glass of water. After I had swallowed the pill, she started to get up.

“Don’t go.”

She sat down hesitantly, not saying anything.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

She held my hand as I felt the medicine slowly kicking in. “What happened to Davie?”

“I don’t know.” She turned her face away from me. “It’s out of my hands.” Her voice seemed full of sadness. “This isn’t how I wanted it to end.”

I wanted to ask if she meant Davie, or us, but sleep overcame me.

* * *

The next time I awoke, it was dark out. The clock displayed 7:00, but I couldn’t make out if it was morning or night. Jess wasn’t in the room, and I smelled bacon cooking. My stomach rumbled. I tried to remember when I had last eaten.

When I walked into the kitchen, Jess had her back to me and was busily flipping pancakes, bacon, and hash browns. She looked so innocent in her violet robe and penguin slippers. How did all of this happen?

I cleared my throat and she turned abruptly, armed with her spatula. My palms darted into the air. “Jesus, it’s just me!”

She lowered her weapon. “Sorry. I haven’t slept much, and I’m a little jumpy.”

The black circles around her eyes made it hard to see her eyeballs. Lines creased her forehead, and I noticed she hadn’t showered lately. Then again, neither had I. All of a sudden, I had a fierce urge to be clean.

“Do you mind if I hop in the shower?”

She nodded that it was fine, but when I went to leave the room, she said, “Wait.”

I turned back to her.

“Don’t get your bandage wet.”

I nodded, disappointed. Things felt awkward, but how could they not? Jess usually set things right, but she was more out of sorts than me. I undressed carefully as I waited for the water to warm up. Once I had removed my shirt and bra, I looked in the mirror. My neck had dozens of microscopic scrape marks, which weren’t all that noticeable unless you really looked for them, more resembling pimples, or a rash. However, they itched like hell and burned when I scratched them. A bruise was forming on my neck as well.

Sighing, I removed my jeans and stepped into the shower. I couldn’t get my right arm wet, so I did the best I could shampooing my hair with one arm. I didn’t even bother with conditioner. Then I lathered soap all over and rinsed off. The shower took less than three minutes.

When I stepped out, Jess was waiting for me with a bathrobe and a towel.

“I thought you might need help.”

Neither of us spoke as she dried me off and wrapped the bathrobe around me.

“Why don’t you sit down so I can change your bandage?” She gestured to the toilet and I sat down heavily on the lid.

The sight of the gash made my stomach turn. If Davie had been around the day I’d tried to kill myself, I would have been successful. Not much time would have been needed.

“Do you think he can fix it?” I asked.

Jess looked up at me, tears brimming in her eyes. “What?”

“My tattoo. Why couldn’t Davie have sliced the saying you chose?”

She laughed half-heartedly. “I’m pretty sure Raul can fix it.”

“Good.” I thought for a moment. “Of course, this is more fitting.”

She cocked her head. “How so?”

“Well, another monkey fell out of a tree.”

She squeezed my hand. “You ready to eat?”

I thought for sure she would ask me what I meant, but maybe she was scared to.

“I’ll get the food ready,” I insisted. “Why don’t you shower?”

Silencing her protest, I shut the bathroom door and stayed there until I heard the shower stream. My mind was racing. I briefly considered walking out of the front door and never coming back. Before, only Jess would look for me if I disappeared, but now, even she might not. She might think I didn’t want to be found, especially by her. This was the perfect moment for me to do it. I would never see my parents, sister, or Jess again. A clean break.

Placing my ear to the door, I tried to tell whether she was still in the shower. Then I heard her singing, one of her sad Irish ballads. Her voice, full of melancholy and tenderness floated in the air. For a moment, I thought I had lost my mind, which seemed to search the air above me to find the right one of her words to take with me.

Then I heard Jess twist the shower nozzle off. I wasn’t sad to have missed my opportunity. Scurrying into the kitchen, I grabbed a couple of plates and cutlery to set the table.

Jess appeared within seconds, wearing her bathrobe and with a towel wrapped around her head. Somehow, she had been able to wash the black circles from her eyes. She looked much more refreshed than I felt after my shower.

We sat down and I hesitated at first, and then rushed in. “How did it start?”

She nibbled on a piece of toast and peered directly into my eyes. “My internship.”

I scoffed. “Bookies don’t have interns.”

Jess sighed and poured me a glass of orange juice. “Are you going to listen?”

I nodded and gulped the OJ.

“Good. Richard, my boss when I first started as an intern, introduced me to his brother because he said I had a way with people and numbers. They needed someone to talk to their clients—‌someone who wouldn’t raise red flags when he or she popped into an office for an appointment. Secretaries don’t notice me. If you send in a guy named Guido with arms bursting through a shirt, heads turn. Me, I go in, I work out terms, and then I leave. Sometimes, I collect payments, but mostly I crunch the numbers.”

“Crunch the numbers?”

“Work out payment plans. Many of the guys owed small amounts, lost too much at poker the night before, but didn’t have the cash on them. Some didn’t want to withdraw too much at a time or their wives would notice. I helped work out terms that were agreeable for both sides.”

“So, no baseball bats or crushing fingers?”

“Of course not. You can’t do that shit in this town.”

Her tone didn’t set me at ease, and I think she noticed that. “Seriously, Paige, this was small-time stuff. A few hundred bucks here and there. Richard and his brother are reasonable.”

“What happened with Davie? How did that go so wrong if they’re so reasonable?”

A dark shadow seemed to loom over Jess as she walked over to the coffeemaker to refill her cup. “Davie began to cause problems. He started gambling in the hope he’d win enough to pay for his son’s medical bills. At first, it worked brilliantly.”

She leaned against the counter and took a long swallow of coffee.

“But his luck ran out.”

“You could say that, but the bastard thought it would come back. He started hitting the tables day and night. All of us tried to convince him to stop. Even Wesley.”

“Wesley?”

“Wesley learned about my…‌job. And he made me introduce him to some of the guys. He had this notion that he was a high roller.”

I rolled my eyes. “Does Mel know?”

She nodded.

“All those times when Mel was whispering to you, it wasn’t because she felt guilty about not telling my parents…‌it was about Weasel.”

She nodded again.

“It must be hard to keep all of it straight,” I said bitterly.

Jess fixed me with a look, but didn’t respond.

I motioned with my hand. “Go on. Tell me the rest.”

“Wesley and Davie kept getting in over their heads. I bailed Wes out a few times and then had him cut off. No matter how hard we tried, we could not keep Davie away. That’s when Davie came up with an idea.”

“What?” I demanded.

“A strike. Do you remember when you ran into him the first time? Here?”

I nodded.

“He was trying to get hold of Wesley to convince him not to pay his debt. He wanted everyone not to pay their debts. He wanted”—‌she looked around—‌“Better payment terms.”

“The Norma Rae of gambling? You’ve got to be kidding!”

“Yes! Ridiculous!” She refilled her cup again, and I started to wonder when she had last slept. “I really tried to talk to Davie. I knew about his son, and I wanted to help. He didn’t know it, but I had paid off some of his debt so Richard would back down a little. But when Davie tried getting everyone to refuse to pay, he had to be dealt with.”

“The fundraiser you set up, that was a scam?” I crossed my arms.

“No. Well, yes. I knew he would raise more than he owed. He raised a lot more than he owed, but I had to take a cut. There was talk that…”

She looked away.

“The friendly bookies were going to call in Guido,” I stated bluntly.

“Yes. Davie has a wife, two daughters, and his son. I couldn’t just turn my back and let it happen. So I took half of what he owed and I paid the rest with my money. The morning he came here, his debt was paid. Nothing was going to happen to him. When I answered the door, I thought it would be Richard, who wanted the money right away. He was tired of dealing with the fuck.”

The word shocked me. I had never heard Jess use it.

“That guy who came here, when Dr. Steve was…” I motioned to my wrist. “That was Guido?”

She shook her head. “No. Richard. He came to check on me and to see if you were all right. I know you think otherwise, but he’s a nice guy.”

“Yet he’s sending Guido after Davie.”

Jess fidgeted and repositioned her legs. “No. They decided to let it go.”

“How did you convince them to do that?” I looked at her, stunned.

“Leverage.”

I groaned. “Do I want to know?”

“I wish you wouldn’t ask,” she confessed, as she stared at her penguin slippers.

I lowered my head and glared into her eyes.

“I told Richard that you would inform your father about his ‘business.’”

“And that stopped him?”

“Paige, everyone knows your dad. Everyone is scared shitless of him.” She set her cup down and crossed her arms. “Besides, I gave them the rest of the money. As far as everyone is concerned, the debt is paid, and every dealer in town knows not to let Davie sit at one of their tables.”

I picked at my bandage, deep in thought. “And you?”

“Oh, and me?” She reached into her purse and pulled out a cigarette. After lighting it and inhaling deeply, she said, “I’m unemployed. I knew when I used my card that I was done. Let’s just say I tendered my resignation, effective immediately.”

“When did you start smoking?”

She rummaged in the cabinet above her fridge and pulled out an ashtray. “I quit when we started dating. Lately, however, I’ve been craving one.” She sucked again, and then slowly blew out the smoke. “Damn, I’ve missed it.”

“Can I have one?”

She looked at her feet, and then shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

I pulled a cigarette from her silver case and she flicked open her Zippo. “Take a deep breath. Good, now exhale.”

I had expected to cough, but surprisingly, it felt good. Some of the tension in my shoulders released. I took another drag.

She set the case and ashtray down in front of me. The initials on the case were hers. “A gift,” she said, in answer to my unspoken question.

“There’s a lot I don’t know about you, isn’t there?”

Jess opened her mouth, but swallowed her words.