Violets & Violence (17 page)

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Authors: Morgan Parker

BOOK: Violets & Violence
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With that threat, I slipped my finger between her folds, dipping just deep enough to arouse a surprised gasp before withdrawing my hand and marching over to Rinker. I noticed that his wrinkled old face had turned pink, but then I glanced back at Lindsey –
she had enjoyed that hadn’t she? Yet he called my mother a whore?
– and warned her to not move.

“I’m not going to die,” I corrected him. I wanted to whack his broken nose, get it bleeding again, but I had a better idea. “I’m not going to die.”

“Once I’m out of this, I’m coming for you and that slutty bitch of yours,” he hissed. “And I will make her watch as I cut your throat open and—”

I hooked my fingers into his swollen, blood-crusted nostrils and yanked his head up – yes, I made sure to use one of the fingers that had just been inside Lindsey so he could smell her, on
me
– and I slid my other finger across his neck. That simple motion slowed him down, calmed him. His breathing came out in short gusts as he realized just how vulnerable he was.

“Listen,” I said, my voice soft and professional. In high school, the dual-family kids called it my “killer-cold” tone, but I had no intention of hurting this old man. Not now and not here. “I’m leaving you a check for two million dollars. That was our so-called deal when you had me tied to that cross for almost a fucking month.”

“Our deal was three,” he argued. “Three million for your freedom. And life.”

“I think it started out as half,” I corrected. “So that’s what I’m willing to give you. Like we fucking agreed.”

Before he could argue, I pulled up on his nose again, harder this time, and I noticed a thin bead of fresh blood trickle down over his lips and drop between his legs, onto the seat.

“It’s funny what you can agree to under duress and with your girlfriend’s pussy on my fingers, isn’t it, Henry?” I chuckled. “I bet I could talk you down to one million right about now. And to think it took you over three weeks to bring me to this point.” I offered a
tsk-tsk
.

“I want my half,” he choked out. “Or you die.”

“And half is what you’ll get.” I released his nostrils and watched him lick the blood on his lips. “Considering all you gave me was two-hundred thousand.”

His nostrils flared,

“You think I’ll let you walk away,” he said through his clenched teeth, yet his voice sounded calmer now; it sounded like the same tone he had used at the Imperial, the crazy one, the crazy
calm
one. He shook his head. “You stole a lot of money, hmm? Not just the two hundred thousand and the Intellectual Property that could’ve made you billions upon billions, but you also stole careers, jobs,
lives
. You singlehandedly led to the end of Quotient Financial. I can’t let you walk away. Not without justice, without getting what’s mine.”

I leaned forward, glancing back at Lindsey to make sure she hadn’t moved – she hadn’t – and reminded him, “It’s not yours. It never was. And Quotient did what it did out of greed. You’re blaming me for something I never possessed. I never had that greed, or that power. Two hundred thousand would never bankrupt a bank.”

Rinker shook his head. “You stole. That’s greed. No matter what it was that you took, whether it was the code or a bracelet or anything else. That kind of act is always motivated by greed.”

“Or ego,” I corrected him. I glanced back at Lindsey. “Go get dressed. You’re coming with me.”

“No,” Rinker shouted. “She’s not part of the deal.”

At last, I’d lost my patience. I swung around and kicked the legs of the chair, toppling him over onto the ground. I knew the sound would echo to the unit below, but I didn’t care. I didn’t have time to care, and our meeting was coming to an end anyway.

“You’ll pay for this,” Rinker grunted, still seated on the chair but lying on his side and glaring up at me. He hated me more now than he ever had before.

Reaching into my back pocket, I produced a folded and creased envelope. I smacked it onto the countertop, then glanced back over my shoulder and saw that Lindsey hadn’t budged.

“Go put your clothes on,” I told her, keeping my voice calm and level. Then to Rinker, “Two million. You won’t find me, you won’t even look.”

“You walk out of here with him, you’re never coming back,” Rinker threatened Lindsey.

“Don’t listen to him,” I told her. “I’m not leaving without you. And if I stay much longer, I might kill your old man and take my money back.”

Rinker had nothing to add, so Lindsey stood up and walked to the bedroom. She didn’t move quickly, but at least she was moving.

“Leave the door open,” I told her.

Once she was inside the bedroom, I faced Rinker. I kicked him in the ribs. Twice. The second hoof had a little more force behind it than the first.

Kneeling on the floor, I clenched his jaw with the same kind of vice grip that he had used on me at the Imperial. It clearly didn’t hurt him as much as my LaCoste’s sole to his chest had. But I didn’t care.

“There’s a cashier’s check on your counter, Henry. It’s drawn on a bank right here in New York City. You know what that means, right?”

He blinked, his watery eyes full of rage and a hunger for the kind of vengeance he would never achieve.
He is the real Violence here.

“You might never see Lindsey again,” I told him, glancing back to see if she had come out of the bedroom yet. “But you might. In the event that you do, understand this: I’m never more than a $400 flight and six hours away from New York City. And if I was able to get into the Quotient vault all those years ago, before I perfected my skill, you can bet your ass that I can get into your little co-op. Just like today. And if I can get into your co-op and disappear with your longstanding girlfriend, I can also make you disappear, Henry Rinker. I can make the burn of death hurt like Christmas at an orphanage.”

He kept blinking, a silent and simple acknowledgement that he’d heard and understood what I was telling him.

“You’ve got my money. You’re dropping this.” I released his jaw and stood up, turning around as Lindsey emerged from the bedroom, her purse slung over her shoulder.

I waved her over.

She refused to take my extended hand, so I stepped toward her and snatched it.

We left the co-op together, with Rinker still on the floor, saying nothing, and Lindsey’s strides gradually giving in and falling into step next to mine, like maybe the promise of a little adventure was long overdue.

 

 

 

 

After transferring to the E-train at Lex, I couldn’t help but grit my teeth. The ride started out fairly packed, and the entire time, I clenched Lindsey’s hand, my fingers laced between hers. We barely spoke, which attracted a bit of quiet attention from other passengers – we were “the angry man holding hands with the timid brunette”, neither of whom looked very happy with the other – but nobody said anything or allowed their stare to linger too long. Sometime after the Woodhaven station, she turned to me and stared.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice trembling. I couldn’t tell if it trembled from fear or curiosity about what might lie ahead.

I looked down at our locked hands before moving my eyes to hers. “Doing what?”

“This. With me.” She frowned when I stayed quiet. Silence seemed to be my magic trick when it came to getting people to talk. “Do you think you’re saving me, Luke? From that man you beat up?”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “You clearly weren’t conscious while I was under that stage. Nor do you understand everything between me and Rinker.”

“Whatever it is,” she said dismissively, “I’m sure it didn’t justify what you’ve done to him. Between beating him up and pushing your finger inside me.” She looked away, like she might’ve entertained a guilty thought about that finger of mine. Or maybe she was a little embarrassed about not keeping the volume low enough.

“You know,” I started, keeping
my
voice quiet, but stern enough that she wouldn’t mistake my annoyance for less than it was, “I could say the same thing about how he locked me up underneath that stage for over three weeks, about how you contributed to that torture, Lindsey.”

“I did it for him,” she admitted with a lackadaisical shrug. “You survived.”

“And if I hadn’t?” I asked, chuckling back the incredulity. “What then?”

Another shrug that seemed to say,
meh, whatevs.
“What choice did I have?”

“Here’s the difference between you and Violet: If she didn’t believe in something, she wouldn’t do it.”

“Settled. I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Lindsey, I’m just really surprised you did what you did,” I told her.

“Then I’m obviously not the woman you think you’re ‘saving’ here, am I?”

I shook my head at her; I couldn’t believe this bullshit. “So you believed in what he was doing to me. The torture and extortion and blackmail…”

At that, Lindsey shifted in her seat, angling her body toward mine so we were angled toward one another.

“We both know that Rinker is a little more, well,
impassioned
than you are,” Lindsey said. “Would
you
have said ‘no’ to him?”

“Isn’t that what I’ve done today?” I asked. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“No, not exactly. I think what you’ve accomplished today was inviting him to come and really ruin your life.” She sighed, and the common sense seemed to return to her. “If I were you, I’d pack up and leave. We both know he can find you in Detroit. And the last time you let him off the hook, back in the Imperial when you carved my face, he came at you harder. What do you think he’ll do now?” She let out a
sheesh
sound and shook her head at me like I was the idiot here.

Maybe I am. Maybe I should have killed him before he could do any more damage to me or Violet or our life together.
I don’t want to kill
. So now what?

“I wouldn’t want to be around for his retaliation,” she added. And this time, she kept her voice low.

I stared up at the advertisements. No more need to carry on this conversation. Having left two million dollars on Rinker’s counter was better than nothing.
It will work, he’ll back off now that he’s got what he wants.

Although deep down, I didn’t really expect him to deposit the money and forget all about Violet and me.

But, at the very least, I expected that two million dollars would buy us the freedom we needed to flee Detroit and start fresh somewhere else, maybe even New York City once a Broadway theater became available for our show.

At the Jamaica station, which was where I had to change to the AirTrain for the final leg of the trip to JFK, I let go of Lindsey’s hand. I hadn’t realized it until now that my palm had become a little clammy.

“You’re free to go home now,” I said. “But whatever you do, please don’t let that geriatric old fuck push you around. You deserve better. Jeez.” I reached out and traced my finger along the scar on her face. “I’m sorry about this. But I’m telling you, you’re still a beautiful woman.” I smiled. “I remember when he saw you and how he asked me to make ‘magic’ happen.” I used the air-quotes at the word
magic
.

She smiled back “That’s why you stalked me? Why you followed me into Morningside Park and knew so much about me?”

I nodded. “Yes, I wasn’t about to say no to Rinker when he asked. He was a crazy old fuck, even back then,” I added with a wink.

“See?” She was still grinning.

“That’s how I knew about your walk through the park,” I admitted. “I knew where you lived, knew your routine fairly well. It’s what Rinker asked me to do. He was fucking obsessed with you.” I shook my head. “Even back then, people didn’t stand up to him. He’s crazy. Feared.” Deep breath and the weight of the world seemed to press down on my chest. I felt for Lindsey because she would go home to that ass hat. “But you already know how bad he can get. And I’m sorry I ever introduced you two.”

Silence as the next train rolled into the station.

“If he comes for me,” I said, imagining she might call the crazy, feared man we were talking about, “he’ll think I’m at LaGuardia.” The flight to JFK from Metro had not only been less obvious, but cheaper. Win-win.

At last, Lindsey started away. Except she wasn’t walking toward the E-train platform. She headed toward the AirTrain, the same train I had to catch. She surprised me.

I caught up to her.

“You don’t have to do this,” I said, pointing back over my shoulder. “I know you’ve got to go back and deal with that psychopath. I’m fine if you leave me here.”

“I need out,” she said, nodding with determination, but her eyes told a different story, they suggested the weakness of a battered woman with so little spirit left she didn’t know where to turn. It pained me to see her like this –
any
woman like this – because it meant she would probably end up right back where she started; with Rinker.

“This thing with him is bad news.”

“It is,” I agreed, and she seemed to detect the skepticism in my words because she glanced over at me a couple of times while we headed together to the next platform.

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