Prisoned: A Dark Twisted Erotic Standalone (2 page)

“It won’t be happening for a while,” she said. “And since summer is still a ways away, maybe I could help you deal down at the boardwalk.” She looked over at Billy. “Or I could help you hustle—”

“Not gonna happen, Kyle,” I said. “I told you, leave the street stuff to us.” I grabbed my money off the floor and shoved it into my pocket. I usually took twenty bucks from whatever I earned each night and bought food with it, and then I saved the rest. But tonight, I was going to spend a little more. “Come on, guys.”

“Where we going?” Billy asked. “I’ve been running all night, and my feet hurt. You’d better not be taking us too far.”

Kyle handed me my jacket, and I slipped it on as I walked to the door.

“It’s not far,” I said.

“Should I grab a sweater or something?”

The worry in Kyle’s voice made me stop in the doorway and turn to face her. The shirt she was wearing underneath, I’d bought for her, and it wasn’t thick enough to keep her warm.

I grabbed a sweatshirt from my closet. “This is warmer than anything you have at home.”

She took off her jacket, put the sweatshirt on over her head, and zipped her jacket over it. She tucked her nose under the front of the sweatshirt. “It smells like you.”

“It’s my favorite. I wear it a lot.”

She pulled her face out and smiled. “I know.”

“Are we gonna talk about your stank ass all night, or are we gonna get going?” Billy barked.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, come on.”

“Where are you taking us, Garin?” Kyle asked, walking a bit behind me.

We went down the stairs and out my front door, passing Kyle’s and Billy’s apartments on our way out of The Heart. “I’m taking you guys to the diner ’cause we all could use something to eat. Then, we’re going someplace where we can have some fun.”

I’d have to call Mario when we got to the diner. He let me use his indoor pool and hang out in his basement arcade whenever I wanted, but I needed permission to bring my friends. And then I’d have to have a talk with Billy. I’d never brought him to Mario’s before. I was afraid he’d steal something. I needed him to promise that he wouldn’t. Billy wouldn’t break a promise—not to me anyway.

“I’m down for some fun,” Billy said.

I waited for Kyle to say something. When she didn’t, I slowed down, so she could catch up to me.

“What about you?” I asked her.

Her smile was even bigger than it had been in my bedroom even though she was shivering now. “Of course I’m up for it.”

“Good.” I stopped walking, the three of us forming a tight circle.

Kyle’s teeth were chattering loud enough for Billy and me to hear. I had to get her out of this cold.

“You sure you can’t run, Billy?”

“Ahh, fuck. I can always run if I have to.”

I grabbed Kyle’s hand, and we took off.

“Then, start running!” I yelled at him from over my shoulder.

Once Kyle was sipping some hot chocolate at the diner, she finally stopped shaking. The three of us wolfed down bacon cheeseburgers with extra orders of fries and onion rings and headed over to Mario’s.

I knew Kyle had a good time at his place; she didn’t stop smiling or laughing the whole night. Mario even let us make eggs for breakfast and gave us a ride to school. Kyle fell asleep on my shoulder before Mario was even out of his neighborhood. I didn’t want to wake her when we pulled up in front of the school. She needed the sleep. But, when I did, I liked the way her eyes looked when she opened them real slow and rubbed the corners with her small fingers.

Shit, I liked it a lot.

But there weren’t many more nights like that one—the three of us together, sober, earning on the streets and celebrating with our shares. The nights that followed weren’t fun at all. They were tragic. Devastating.

They were really fucking dark…

One

Kyle

There was so much paperwork. I couldn’t see my glass desk. Piles and piles of folders and printouts and designs and mark-ups. My hands stayed frozen in my lap. There was too much. I didn’t know which project to work on first, which deadline required my immediate attention. My to-do list would have told me, but it was buried somewhere in there, too. So were my keyboard and cell phone. Someone must have been calling because the stack on the right was vibrating. I dug around until my fingertips hit the hard plastic and held it up to my ear.

“Anthony, hey. Can I call you back tonight? I’m about to step into an important meeting.”

Telling my brother that I couldn’t talk because I was completely overwhelmed would have gotten me a nasty response. I didn’t need nasty. Not now.

“I’m not calling to talk about money or the business,” he said. “I have news, and it’s something I think you’ll want to hear right now. But if you have to call me back…”

I wheeled around in my chair, so I could face the window, taking in the sight of downtown Tampa. My brother was hours away in Atlantic City, but it felt like he was standing next to me, looking at me with a disgusted stare.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Billy Ashe was found dead last night.”

I rested my hand over my chest to try and stop the ache in my heart. “Oh my God.”

Billy Ashe.

Dead
.

“How? He wasn’t shot…was he?”

“Overdose.” He paused, and I felt myself relax just the tiniest bit. “Heroin, from what I hear.”

Twelve years ago, when I had been a senior in high school, we had lost Billy’s brother. Paulie’s death was a night I would never forget. It was the reason
home
wasn’t my home anymore.

Now, both brothers were gone.

The thought made my chest ache more and more as each second passed.

Heroin had the power to freeze pain, and Billy had lots that needed to stay iced. We’d all hurt back then—Billy, Garin, and me. But I had kept my pain frozen by burying myself in homework, and Garin had kept his in check by sinking himself into women.

A part of me had always expected Billy to get sober. To be saved somehow.

Why didn’t Garin save him?
I wondered.

“The funeral is in three days,” Anthony said. “It’s been a while since you’ve been home. Maybe you should plan on coming.”

Home
.

There was that word again. But Atlantic City hadn’t been my home since the day I left for college. I hadn’t returned.

Not even once.

Could I return for Billy? It had been years since we’d spoken, the last time when I was a senior in college. It was the anniversary of Paulie’s death, and I wanted to let Billy know I was graduating soon, something he’d never thought I would do. He let me go a few minutes into our call. There was a cop driving behind him, and he said he was in a stolen car.

After Paulie’s death, things changed between the guys and me. I had backed away from our relationship, and they had fought me on it for a long time. They hadn’t won. But that didn’t mean I stopped caring—then or now. I cared more than I would ever admit. And had I run into Billy in the years following, I would have embraced him, and I would have told him I wanted more for him. I would have offered to help even if it would have gotten me in trouble. It was the least I could do.

Now, it was too late.

“I’ll be there,” I said.

“You can stay at my place.”

Anthony may not have lived in The Heart, but he didn’t live too far from it and was still deeply involved in every illegal activity that went on there. I didn’t want to see it, I certainly didn’t want to be around it, and I didn’t want to spend that much time with my brother.

“I’m going to stay in a hotel and fly out the next morning. One night there is plenty. I’ll—”

“You’ll talk to me later.”

“Right.”

I ended the call and immediately pulled up a travel website, knowing that if I didn’t book it now, I’d miss the chance and end up not going. It showed a nonstop from Tampa that got me into Atlantic City before ten in the morning and departed the next morning at eight. I added on a hotel room at what had been my favorite casino on the boardwalk. I’d never actually been inside. I’d only admired the facade and the flashing lights and the ornate glass door when I panhandled out front. I wouldn’t be panhandling this time. I wouldn’t be selling stolen bottles of water on the beach either. I would be staying in one of the rooms I had dreamed about as a kid, eating a huge meal in one of their restaurants, and having an expensive drink at one of their bars. And then, less than twenty-four hours later, I’d be back in Florida.

Far away from the memories…far away from The Heart.

Far away from everything I’d been forced to give up.

Two

Kyle

W
hen I finally reached the front of the line, I walked up to the counter and rested my arms over it. “Kyle Lang,” I said, “checking in for one night.” I handed her my credit card.

“Thank you, Ms. Lang. I see you’ve booked a king-size bed. Will you need one key or two?”

“Just one. Thanks.”

I looked around the lobby, at the faces of all the employees, but I didn’t recognize anyone. I wondered if any of the kids from my school worked here. The only person in this town I kept in touch with was my brother. I did know that no one from The Heart was employed at any of the casinos. Their records were too long to work in a place that dealt with so much cash.

“Your room was prepaid, so I’m scanning your card to keep it on file for minibar purchases, room service, or incidentals.” She handed the card back to me along with a room key. “You’ll be on the twenty-sixth floor. The elevator is just to the right, around the bank of boardwalk-themed slots. If you left your luggage with the bellboy, it will be delivered to your room.”

I pointed at the small suitcase by my feet. “I’ve got it right here.”

“Do you have any questions, Ms. Lang?”

“No, I’m fine.”

That wasn’t the truth. The feeling inside me was far from fine. But having her tell me where the ice machine was wouldn’t make me feel better.

My feet moved on autopilot as I pulled my suitcase around the slots, into the elevator, and down the hall of my floor. Once I was inside my room, I dropped the suitcase by the door and rushed over to the windows. At some point, I would hopefully appreciate the suite I had spent a fortune on, but right now, I needed to see the view.

The window was thick glass, rimmed with black metal bars, like the ones that had been in our apartment in The Heart. There was a cloudy buildup in the corners from the sea salt, similar to my windows in Florida. The beach sat right below, the water extending as far as I could see. The sand wasn’t like the beaches I went to now. I remembered it being grainy and coarse, mixed with small pebbles and shells, especially sharp after high tide.

Even the sand was harsh in Atlantic City.

The three of us—me, Billy, and Garin—would spend our summer days at that beach below. After months of cold and shivering, the sun had felt so good on my skin. Those were the only months my body didn’t shake. There was barely enough meat on me to keep me healthy and definitely not enough to keep me warm.

My phone rang from inside my purse. I kept my eyes on the ocean as I reached for it, trying to shake the memories away. “Hello?”

“Have you checked in?” Anthony asked.

“Yes.”

I’d told him not to worry about picking me up from the airport. I didn’t want to have to talk during the ride to the hotel. I just wanted a second alone with my thoughts. Anthony wouldn’t have given me that. It would have been order after order, and I didn’t want to hear it.

“I’m on my way,” he said. “We’ll get something to eat and then go to the funeral. I figured we could hit up the diner. I know you liked that place, so—”

“No diner.”

That was where I’d always gone with the guys. I didn’t need to open those memories, too.

“Then, we’ll eat at your hotel.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll see you in the lobby in twenty.”

“Anthony, wait.” I hadn’t thought of it when I talked to him a few days ago. But now that I was here and the service was in a few hours, I had to know. “You’re coming with me? To the funeral?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. Maybe I should have just let it play out, like the rest of today would.

“Yes.” His tone was so sharp. “Meet me downstairs in twenty.”

The phone then went dead.

I wished the window had a frame or a sill, so I had something to hold on to. Just a small ledge, wide enough for my fingers, so I could grip it tightly. So I could squeeze. Something that could bear my weight. Because, suddenly, everything felt so heavy. So thick. So foggy. Even more than when I’d stepped off the plane. Heavier than when I’d walked into the suite. Heavier than before I’d answered the phone.

But there was nothing to grip. Nothing to hold me. Only a warm pane of glass and a full view of my ugly past. So, I tilted forward and rested my head against it, hoping it would keep me from falling.

I checked my suitcase to see what I had packed. I didn’t remember throwing in clothes or shoes or cosmetics. It had been another autopilot moment, my brain in a much different place than my body. But as I dug around, I found everything I needed. I pulled out a pair of black pants and felt myself putting them on. My arms slipped through the holes of a black tank top and then through the sleeves of a matching blazer. I placed a long necklace over my head, bracelets on my wrists, heels on my feet.