His Ballerina
“What are you doing now?”
“Just shut up and stay where you are. Don’t forget what’s tucked in my pants. Got it?” She nods, trembling harder, as the call picks up.
“Talk to me. Is it done?” My brother, Ace, oldest of all of us. Now that Dad’s gone, he thinks he’s hot shit, the unofficial father figure, but it’s not easy to forget all the dumb shit a person pulled when they were a kid. I know him too well.
“It is, but there’s been a complication.” I glance at her, meeting her gaze. God, she’s got gorgeous eyes. I could fall into those eyes and drown. What would they look like if she was happy? If I made her happy?
“Like what?”
“Like I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. But I’m gonna need you to send somebody down here for clean-up.” I give him the location while watching Madison for any sign that she’s about to flee. While I doubt anybody would think twice about the double-crossing bookie turning up dead in an alley a few blocks down from where he was last seen, it’s not like we want the cops breathing down our necks. Especially when I was seen leaving the bar with him.
I don’t think anybody in there would be stupid enough to rat me out—still, no taking chances.
“On it. You sure you’ve got this covered?”
Sometimes he forgets I’m twenty-three, not thirteen. “Got it.” I end the call before he finds some other way to insult me or otherwise insinuate I might not have things under control.
Like this is my first hit, for Christ’s sake.
Once that’s taken care of, I take hold of Madison’s elbow. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“Oh, my god…” Tears fill her eyes and spill onto her cheeks. I don’t know whether to slap some sense into her or comfort her, and the fact that there’s even a choice to be made terrifies me deep down inside. It’s like there’s something inside me that’s never been there before. Pity? Sympathy? Either way, I don’t like it.
“Shut up, for God’s sake. Stop blubbering. I’m walking you home, is all.” I pull her a few steps further away from the alley and the body there.
“Walking me home?”
“Are you a parrot? And stop crying, would you? There’s nothing to cry about. So long as you’re smart and remember what I told you. Think you can do that?”
She drags the back of her hand under both eyes and squares her shoulders. Something about that tiny gesture hits me hard. The girl has no reason to believe me after witnessing what I did a few minutes ago, but she’s willing to play along. She’s that brave.
And a fucking idiot. “Don’t you know how dangerous it is to be walking around out here in the middle of the night? All alone? It’s amazing this is the first hit you’ve ever walked in on.”
“Who says it’s the first?”
She surprises me into stopping dead in my tracks just before reaching the sidewalk. “It’s not?”
“No, of course, it is. I don’t even know why I said that.” She looks at the ground, where broken glass glitters like diamonds between weed-choked cracks in the concrete.
Something tells me I’m not going to be able to get this girl out of my head for a long time, and that’s a real problem. But it doesn’t stop me from continuing on with her, one hand on her arm in case she decides to do anything stupid.
3
Madison
This is it. I’m dead, or as good as dead. No way this guy is going to let me live after what I saw.
His hand is tight around my elbow, a silent reminder that I can’t get away from him. I could fight, couldn’t I? Every bit of advice I’ve ever heard regarding personal safety flies through my head all at once, a jumble of warnings and tips.
Throw your wallet in one direction and run in the other direction. Well, he’s already had my wallet, and he didn’t seem interested in what was inside beyond the name and address on my driver’s license. So that’s out.
Scream fire. People are more likely to come to your rescue when they think their property might burn. There aren’t that many people around here right now, not at this time of night. Most of the buildings up and down the street are storefronts or used to be before they got boarded up. There might be people living in the apartments on the second and third floors, but what are the odds that any of them will come running? So I doubt that will help.
Kick him where it hurts. Sure, and I might even enjoy doing that, considering how scary he is and how intimidated I am after watching him murder a man in cold blood. But what good would it do? I doubt he would let me go. Even if he did, he could shoot me as I ran.