Come To Me (Owned 3)

“What the fuck did you just sell that girl?” I demanded, throwing the punk against the wall. Week six of following Lenny and shit wasn’t getting any better. Lenny continued to go into odd buildings and drive into the middle of Bumfuck Nowhere, California. Now it looked like she was buying drugs.

“Wh-what?” he stammered, fear creeping from his eyes to his limbs.

“What did you just sell that girl?” I repeated, slamming him once more against the bricks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he exclaimed, eyes darting around. “I didn’t sell anything to anyone.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me. Red hair. Beautiful blue eyes. You sold something to her.” I’d watched the exchange from the car, fists curled the entire time. The boy, who couldn’t have been older than eighteen, had been jittery and apprehensive. Lenny, however, was calm as rain.

Whatever the fuck that saying means. As if rain is ever calm. Still, Lenny was as calm as I’d ever seen her. She touched his shoulder, she smiled, and then hands were grasped and I just knew drugs were inside.

Dawning spread across his features. “You mean Lennox?” I nearly dropped my grip on his collar. Lenny was on a first name basis with her drug dealer? That couldn’t be good.

“Yes.” I tightened my hold while at the same time trying to loosen my anger. “What did you sell her?”

“I didn’t sell her anything. She sells to me…” At the look on my face he trailed off, clearly terrified. “Wait, wait! That didn’t come out right! She doesn’t sell to me, she gives to me.”

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Why was Lenny selling drugs? I hadn’t been able to transfer all of my fortune to her yet, but I’d made sure my life insurance paid out in her name. It wasn’t much, but it was enough and it was also the safest way to get her money without raising suspicion—that is, suspicion from my world. In the civilian world life insurance policies were reasons for murder, but in my world it was like tipping a waiter.

“Look, we met in group therapy, okay? I don’t have insurance and she does. I’m schizo and if I don’t get my meds, bad things happen. She goes to a doctor in a different county and lies to get meds and then gives them to me.” I let go of his collar completely and he fell to the pavement. His words made the puzzle pieces fall into place. Now I knew why Lenny drove to all the godforsaken corners of California.

“What’s it to you, anyway?” he asked, glaring up at me from the ground. My pocket buzzed and I looked away from the kid, leaving his question unanswered. The burner phone I’d kept to catfish Dom read, We gotta peace, Blondie.

As much as I wanted to interrogate the kid until his tongue fell out, the necromancer was tugging at my leash. It was time to get back to work.

“You tell her you saw me and you’re fucking dead.” I towered over the kid and punched my fist into the brick. When the plaster landed on his nose, he scampered away. I watched the soles of his tennis shoes disappear around the corner before replying to Dom.

Can you meet me here? I texted the address of the storefront I’d been staying at, brushing blood and plaster from my knuckles,

Why there? Dom replied.

I’m hiding, I explained. There was a black van outside my apartment and I got freaked. A simple enough explanation for a simple enough person.

I don’t like the idea of you staying anywhere but five star, Blondie. After swallowing the vomit that crept into my mouth, I replied.

It’s only temporary.

“Blondie? Hello?” Dom called into the storefront, voice echoing back the stupidity.

“Do you even know her fucking name?” I called back.

“I—” Dom stopped when he saw me, teetering on his heels, eyes wide.

“I need to know the answer. Do you?” They had been Facebook friends. If I’d ended up knowing more about Malorie than Dom, that would be a little pathetic. She’d been his Siren, after all, the reason he crashed into the rocks.

“What’s going on?” He looked around as if someone was going to pop out and yell, “Surprise!” Perhaps it was a surprise, but it wasn’t a party. This time the presents were explosives, the balloons the clouds of gas and smoke.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Dom demanded.

“Well.” I shrugged, ambling over to him. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“I don’t care what the fuck this is. I’m leaving.” Just as Dom turned to run, I grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him into a chair.

“No, you’re going to stay.” I’d contemplated Duck Tape, but decided threat was better. “You’re going to learn something for once in your goddamn life. Now, look under your chair.” I hadn’t meant for my voice to get so loud, hadn’t meant to let my anger at his betrayal show. When I heard “now look under your chair” echoing back at me, I knew my face must have been contorted with rage. Dom stared up at me, his doofy eyes wide as saucers.

Running a hand over my face, I repeated myself. Slowly, calmly, so he would understand. Dom blinked, but then quickly bent over to check beneath the plastic fold out.

“Is that…” His words died as he rose back up.