Come To Me (Owned 3)

Lenny sat down on the bed, her body creating a slight dip. I watched her out of my peripheral. Fuck, but I would always be drawn to her. With brick red hair over one shoulder of her naked back, it was like having an ancient Roman painting just a few inches from me. It was mesmerizing.

People stare at those paintings for hours. People dedicate their lives to those goddamn paintings. It was no wonder that I was twisted up with Lenny. Just as I was about to throw every goddamn thing that had happened earlier to the wind to satisfy my dick, Lenny pulled open the nightstand and grabbed a pill bottle.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked, sitting up straight. Inwardly I punched myself for not checking there first.

“Can we stop pretending, please?” She opened a bottle, punctuating her point. “Fuck, Vic. Just because we don’t speak of it doesn’t mean it goes away—even though I know that’s what you think. I’m doing this. You know I’m doing it. Just like I know you’re still hiding things from me.” She opened her mouth, about to drop a pill, but I smacked it away. The bottle fell to the floor, pills clattering around.

I leaned back against the headboard, satisfied, and rested my head against my arms. “Don’t be so fucking dramatic, Lennox.”

“I’m dramatic?” Lennox exclaimed, rising to her knees. “What do you call this?” She gestured down to where I’d knocked her bottles.

“I’m not enabling you any more,” I said through gritted teeth.

Lenny laughed, a bitter sound like wind caught in a tunnel. “I’m sorry that I refuse to continue to hide behind the paper screens you concoct with delicate words, Vic. This is our life. It’s ugly. It’s messy. It’s probably going to kill us. Deal with it or get the fuck out.” She bent over to pick up her pills and gestured to the door with the same motion, not even bothering to look at me.

“Gladly.” I walked out of the room, heading to my “secret lair” as Lenny called it. In reality, it was just an office with a few extra gadgets. I guess I’d be spending the night there, waiting for information on what END planned to do with me, instead of hiding behind paper screens.

I’m hungry.

I’m cold.

I found some white powder that doesn’t taste real good, but when I mixed it with water it almost reminded me of cookie dough. I can’t even remember the last time I had cookie dough, but if I pretend hard enough, the white stuff tastes like it. If I eat enough, my stomach doesn’t hurt so much.

Mama was angry again so I hid in the cupboards. She doesn’t look for me there. Still, I’m scared. She bangs on the counter and knocks over the chairs when she’s like this. The noises are loud and remind me of thunderstorms.

She’s eaten the candy again and it’s made her mad. I did my best to hide it from her, but she found it. She always finds it. When she found out I hid it from her, she hit me upside the head. I ran to the pantry when she took a break from beatin’ me and have been here ever since.

I hoped there would be some food in the cupboards but there was nothing, nothing but dust and a jug of something blue. I seen how Mama used the blue stuff to clean one day, the one day the lady comes, so I know not to eat it.

I used to wish Mama would share her candy. It reminded me of the rock candy Mama used to buy when she’d get her cigarettes. Now Mama doesn’t leave so she doesn’t buy me candy no more. I used to wish she’d share her candy cause all I have to eat is white powder and sometimes old nuggets, if the neighbors throwed it out in the trash.

Now I don’t wish she’d share. I tried some of it and Mama hit me so hard I couldn’t see for days. Still, that’s not why I don’t want it. I don’t want it cause when Mama eats the candy she is no longer my Mama. Tonight Mama’s had candy so I’ll sleep in the pantry, because it’s safer than my bed.

I woke up with a start, neck sore from the way I’d slept. I rubbed my eyes, trying to get the errant dream from my head. It felt more like a memory than a dream. It was still early in the morning, the sun hanging low on the horizon, but I had an urge to go check on Lenny and make sure she was sleeping well. The night before she’d banged on the door, yelling that she was going to sleep downstairs in the spare room. By the time I’d opened the door to tell her it was unnecessary, her figure was retreating down the stairs.

Even while Lenny and I were separated, I was never far from her. I used GEM resources to make sure she was always safe. Always. Now I was home, but I’d never felt farther away.

I stood to go check just as my computer beeped, a red alert bubble unopened in the corner. I looked at the bubble waiting to be popped, and then at my door. Rationally I knew Lenny was safe asleep downstairs, but that didn’t calm the gnawing in my gut. That would only settle once I saw her red hair on the pillowcase. The bubble dinged again, and I bent over to quickly read the message.

Vic: This came across my desk. Thought you might like to know.

–Charlie

I opened the attachment and absorbed the information. I don’t know what I’d been expec

ting. Charlie wouldn’t have messaged me if it wasn’t important. We weren’t exactly pen pals. We didn’t send gifs in our spare time. I should have put it all together before I even opened the goddamn thing. The message shouldn’t have been a surprise. None of it should have been a shock. If I’d been thinking with just an ounce of forethought or cunning, I would have seen it.

I rubbed my neck as I read, trying to work out the kinks sleeping on a desk had created. Obviously, my mind had been elsewhere.

According to Charlie’s intel, GEM had ordered the hit in Mexico and the hit was me. If I had gone to Mexico, I would be a dead man. I read and reread, trying to see if there was any other way to interpret it. There wasn’t.

Dom had deceived me and was not a neutral party, but a spineless shitfuck working for GEM—though for some reason GEM still hadn’t officially blacklisted me. Probably because it was Alice pulling the strings.

If you ever find yourself in this situation—quasi-blacklisted by a bitch with a vendetta—you should never do what I did. You should close out the files, delete them, and a go off the grid as soon as possible. You shouldn’t stay bent over the desk, goddamn message still open on your screen.

But I was…hung up.

See, as I dialed the fucker, I couldn’t help but remember all the shit I’d done for him. Mistake number one. In the wetwork world, honor and nobility are like diamonds: everyone wants them, no one really has them, and there really is no point to them. I guess that was why Charlie and I got along so well (well, as much as you could in that world). He might have been a bit of psychopath, but somewhere deep down, he had his honor.