Invictus, page 16
“Robbie?” Auggie starts tiredly.
“I’m here, Aug. I’m here,” I reply urgently.
“Tell me about Singapore.”
“Now?” I ask him, blinking rapidly. I can think of a hell of lot better times to spill my guts about the shit I did over there, but this doesn’t seem like one of them.
Auggie nods as he lays his forearm across his forehead. “It’s the first time we’ve been alone and I keep promising you tomorrow, but today made me realize that I may not be able to keep that promise much longer. Tell me.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask him irritably.
“You tell me your story, and then I’ll tell you mine. Deal, kid?” he counters softly.
I bite my lower lip and suck in my breath. I had already forgotten about biting down on my tongue and the motion stings a bit. It’s just how shit is with me sometimes; I can forget about something as quickly as I do it.
But Singapore? I can’t forget about that because it haunts my fucking dreams and turns them into nightmares.
“Okay,” I finally say, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand again. I already told him about the hooker, what more is there to say?
And that’s when it all starts to come back to me again.
“I tried to confess after I killed her. I needed someone to know what I had done and maybe punish me for it. I don’t know. I just knew that the one person I could tell anything to was so goddamn far away that I wouldn’t care what they did to me.
“Anyway, I went to one of the Buddhist temples there and spoke to whoever the hell would listen to me, but they kept pawning me off on the next person until I finally got to an old man who smiled at me with such a kindness in his eyes, it was like seeing the world shining for the first time.
“He asked me if I wanted to go for a walk and I agreed. We looked so weird together, you know? This short, happy man, and this tall, miserable guy walking right next to each other—even I laughed after I caught a reflection of us in the Kallang River where he led me.
“But when he sat down on the bank and encouraged me to do the same, I felt like a weight was going to be lifted off my shoulders.
“So I told him what I did.
“I told him about how I fucked that girl and I told him about how I accidentally killed her. I told him about how I left the body in the hostel and I told him about how no one even batted an eyelash about another dead bitch ending up in one of those seedy places, but how it haunted me from the very first night I closed my eyes after.
“And you know what he did Aug?
“He told me that if I really wanted to be forgiven, that I would go with him to the police station and turn myself in. He told me that he would speak on my behalf—a stranger he had just met, and would ask them to go easy on me.
“I snapped. I didn’t mean to, but I did.
“I get what he was trying to do but I just wanted him to listen to me. If I was going to turn myself in for that shit I would have done it already. I was looking for absolution, not for a possible death sentence, man.”
I take a deep breath and chew on my lower lip nervously.
“And then what happened?” Aug presses me gently.
I shrug.
August should already know how this story ends, but when he squeezes my hand, I know I have to finish it.
“I hit him. Hard. So fucking hard that I heard the bones in his neck snap when his head blew back from the blow.”
“And?”
“I rolled him into the river,” I admit quietly. “That’s when I knew I had to leave. Too many of them had seen me in the temple and I didn’t want to hang over something like that. I mean shit, if I’m going to die, it should be for something fun,” I say with a chuckle. “Not something like screwing a whore to death and killing a monk. Where’s the fun in that shit?”
“Anyway, that’s what I’ve been carrying around all this time and it’s what I wanted to tell you,” I say, giving him a sheepish look. “Guess it’s your turn now, right?”
Auggie finally opens his eyes and smiles at me as his eyes come into focus.
“You have to promise that you won’t overreact first.”
“Me? Overreact? Pft. Get real. When have I ever overreacted over anything?” I ask, shaking my head.
“Robbie.”
“I’m serious! I don’t overreact to things!” I reply stubbornly.
August sighs and shakes his head slightly. “Then now is not the time, but if you’re up for it, I’d like you to help me finish Magda when I’m feeling better.”
I eye Auggie suspiciously.
He’s hiding something from me and I don’t like it. I can tell it’s something big and by the way he’s beating around the bush, he obviously thinks I can’t take it.
But I don’t push him.
Not yet anyway.
“Okay,” I agree with a nod. “I’ll be ready whenever you are.”
Struggling to catch my breath, my eyes focus the small brunette unconscious at my feet. Dropping the tray, I pace the length of my cell, debating whether to strangle her to death while she’s unconscious, or suffocate her with my soiled pillow.
Either would be easy. She’s completely at my mercy. I decide I’d rather not look at her while I’m killing her, so I pick up the pillow. After hovering for a long moment, I cry out in frustration and hurl the pillow violently against the wall.
I can’t do it. She brought me food when I was ravenous. Granted, she’s wearing most of it, but it’s the thought that counts. I stop to scarf down the bread, which is just about the best thing I’ve ever tasted, washing it down with the pulpy orange juice.
Smacking my lips as I polish off the glass, I decide I’ll let her live. I’ll even leave the door unlocked for her, in case she manages to come to before I burn this motherfucking place to the ground. It’s her lucky fucking day. She’ll have something I wasn’t given: a fighting fucking chance.
I check her pockets, finding a key that I toss aside and what looks like a decorative dagger, which I keep. I try on her shoes since my fuck-me pumps were taken from me the first time I tried to bludgeon my captor with them. Though they are a little tight, her black slip-on sneakers will have to do. Stepping over her tiny form, I rush out of the door that I’ve been staring at for God knows how long.
Glancing around the dark hallway, I see an industrial steel staircase leading upward. Based on everything I’ve heard, up is where I need to be. So up I go, taking each step with care, since I’m still shaking from fatigue. The sugar from the orange juice seems to be giving me a little more pep in my step, but I repress the urge to run screaming like a lunatic until I find an exit. Once I’m outside these four walls, I’m never coming back to this shitty fucking city.
When I finally reach the top, my heart is racing. I take several deep breaths, desperate not to draw attention to myself by panting. I turn the knob slowly, inching the door open with extra care. I’m in another hallway; to the left I see streams of sunlight, to the right, the hall is nearly pitch black.
Light is right, I tell myself, and determined, I migrate toward the sun, assuring myself that freedom is that way.
I peek around the corner and see what looks to be a contemporary living space, all chic steel and clean lines. I remember this room from the night he brought me here and offered me a glass of merlot. Whatever he put in the wine was strong enough to knock me on my ass, and I have one hell of a tolerance.
Wracking my brain, I struggle to remember where the front door is. I move across the room and round the corner. I’ve found the kitchen instead. Making a beeline for the knife rack, I snatch the butcher knife. I see an open metal box on the kitchen table, filled with stacks of money. I deliberate, but only for a second or two. I’m not willing to put down one of my knives, not even to pocket that much cash.
Inching back into the living room, I glance over a landing. Down a flight of stairs, I recognize the door I’d entered through so very long ago. I freeze, unable to breathe. I could go, right now, run to the nearest business. Call the police on these fucking psychos and watch them carted off to jail.
Another idea occurs to me, the adventuress I’d been in my teen years rearing her empty but optimistic head. I could drop thee knife and take that box full of money. I could be on a bus today, start a new life somewhere quiet and far away, Montana maybe. Someplace that’s all big skies, where no one’s ever heard of me. Somewhere fresh.
I could also find these motherfuckers…the one who cut me and Robbie, who toyed with me while I was starving. Once I find him, I can hold this knife to his throat and ask him if he wants to show me his cock again.
You stupid little whore, I could almost hear my mother’s voice as if she were standing behind me, whispering in my ear like the righteous angel on my shoulder. Run. Run now and don’t look back. You’re lucky to be alive, for Christ’s sake! Take the money and run.
“Screw that shit,” I tell myself, barely over a whisper in the still, IKEA-obsessed living room. I move in the unexplored direction that I assume has to lead to the bedrooms, the dull pain between my legs where my clit used to be spurring me onward. “This cocksucker is going to know what it’s like to fucking bleed.”
Robbie looks a little worse for wear. He knows something’s wrong, and he knows it’s serious, but I won’t lay that burden on him until he’s ready for it.
He’s going to lose his shit once he finds out the full extent of what’s going on, but that’s Robbie and I’ve learned to accept his juvenile reactions to damn near everything in life.
It doesn’t change how I feel about him.
He’s my little brother and I’ll do everything I can to protect him—mind, body, and soul.
I sigh as I watch his lower lip quiver dangerously and reach for his hand again. It’s shaking as hard as the rest of him seems to be, but the smile I manage for his sake seems to have a slightly calming effect.
“Listen, I—”
Before I have a chance to offer him any further comfort, the door to my room bursts open and we both jump. I lift my head as much as I can to see Magda staggering in, a knife in her hand, as she makes her way as quickly as she can toward my brother.
“What the fuck?” he mumbles in confusion as he sits and watches the shell of what was once a human being stop in front of him, breathing in labored breaths, as she raises the blade up over her head.
Robbie glances at me and scoffs, before he gets to his feet, his thin yet powerful frame towering over her. She takes a wavering step back as she brings the blade down to his chest. I can’t tell if she’s going to stab him, but she’d better make her decision soon because little ticks like the ones she’s doing tend to bring out Robbie’s bad side.
“What are you gonna do with that?” he asks her in a low, daring tone. He cranes his head closer to hers, digging the knife a little deeper into his chest and grins. “Stab me?”
Her stance falters as my brother shoves himself a little harder against the knife, and once he’s done playing the little game with her, he slaps it out of her hand, grabs her around the throat, and turns her to face me.
“What do you think Auggie?” he asks, giving me a hellacious grin. I know that look well. I first saw it when he told me about Ms. Hagerman all those years ago, and I remember seeing the devil dancing in his eyes before he left for Singapore.
Attempting to sit up is a little bit of a struggle for me, but once I do I reach for my glasses, slide them onto my face, and make myself comfortable against the headboard.
I clear my throat and cross my arms loosely over my chest, eyeing the scene before me. I really want to finish Magda because it’s been such a long time since I’ve completed a scarecrow, but she’s threatened my brother’s life and that can’t go unpunished.
“It’s out of my hands,” I say simply to Magda, with the shake of my head. I almost feel a pang of regret that I don’t have the energy right now to wrestle her out of Robbie’s grip, or the will to want to talk him out of it—whatever it turns out to be.
Robbie’s eyes lock onto mine as he lets out a childish laugh of sorts, tightening his hand around her throat. I know he’s seeing how far he can go before I attempt to stop him, but again, I don’t have the strength physically or emotionally to get tangled up with my brother over a project that’s not nearly as important to me as he is.
“Nah,” he says, pressing the side of his face against her. “I won’t kill you—yet. I want Auggie to get better and then we can finish you together. You’re gonna be my favorite scarecrow, and you’re gonna look so pretty! Watch! We’ll make you the most beautiful thing that anyone has ever seen. But for now, back into your cage, you fucking animal.”
With a grunt, he turns her around and hoists her over his shoulder, tossing the blade onto the bed with me.
“I’m gonna put this little bitch back from where she broke out of then we’ll keep talking, okay?” he says over his shoulder as he walks out of the room.
I nod even though he can’t see me, because my eyes have become fixated on the knife before me.
I know this, I think picking it up and peering closely at it. It belongs to Atasha…so if Magda had it, then…that must mean…
I get to my feet as quickly as I can and crumple to the floor just as fast as a wave of nausea rolls over me.
I have to get to that fucking room before Robbie does because if Atasha’s hurt in any way, I know he’ll take the opportunity to finish the job.
And I can’t let that happen.
Not yet.
“Close your eyes, baby,” Mom says, her voice breaking as he shoves her face into the seat.
“No!” I scream, and I realize that for the first time in this nightmare, I’m not a little girl. I’m me, grown and angry and craving vengeance for the scene that is unfolding before me for the thousandth time. I kick out over the seat, and my steel toed boots connect with Dad’s head. Both hands come up to block further attacks, and he reaches out to try to grab my foot. I wriggle away, but I can’t unlock the door. He lunges over the seat after me, and I realize his pants are half down, and his erection, purple and angry, makes an excellent target for my next counterstrike. I grab it and twist as hard as I can, and he wails like a wounded animal. His hands find my throat—he always did like to choke a bitch…that was a quote in the papers from a former girlfriend, out there in black and white for everyone to see—but by God, I won’t back down. He may choke the life out of me this time, but I will break his fucking dick in half first.
His face is red with fury and pain, and I’m gasping, kicking, flopping like a fish out of water.
That’s when I see that his face has transformed. It’s Robbie’s rage-filled eyes I see around unnatural stars, and I’m no longer in the car, but on cold concrete, looking up at a beige ceiling.
“Auggie was fine until you came along!” he snarls, spittle hitting my face he’s so close. “You’re bad luck, bitch.”
I close my hand into a fist and realize I have found his dick just like in the dream. His is still in his pants, but unsurprisingly it is rock hard. I grip it like a vise, squeezing hard enough to make his eyes bulge. His grip on me loosens slightly, and I realize a woman is screaming nearby. Hands with chipped nail polish scratch at Robbie’s face and yank on his hair, but he seems oblivious. Her screeching makes my ears feel like they’re bleeding, but this nutjob with his hands on my neck doesn’t seem to notice anything but me.
“Get off of her, you fucking psycho!” the woman screams, and she jumps on his back, knocking him on top of me. His hands release my throat, but his body knocks the wind out of me. As I struggle to move any air, I see Robbie and Magda rolling around on the floor, fists and claws flying.
Then August is in the open doorway, and even in his pajamas he manages to look handsome and put together, like his tousled hair was styled that way. His color is better somehow, and if I hadn’t just seen him piss himself on the ground earlier, I would never even guess he was sick.
He spots me and stalks to me, ignoring the brawling couple just feet away. Pulling me to my feet, he’s scanning me for injuries. I tumble against him, finally able to inhale. My hands go to my throat, already able to feel the damaged tissues swelling and bruising there. August’s eyes drop to my neck, and I see a battle going on behind his bespectacled eyes.
“Robbie!” August snaps, but Robbie is too busy slamming Magda’s head against the thin rug covering the cold concrete floor. She has her teeth embedded in his bicep, ripping her mouth back and forth much like a great white in the throes of a feeding frenzy. Robbie’s shrieking.
“Let me go, you fucking cow!” His voice is about two octaves higher than usual, but her eyes are narrowed, a predator fighting for life in the jungle. He’ll have to do much better than beg, and I silently cheer her on. I’d love nothing more than to see her impale an artery with those sharp canines. It’s good to want things, but I can see she won’t hold on for long.
“I said ‘let me go’!” Robbie punctuates each word with a thud of Magda’s head. I take a step in their direction, but August’s grip on my shoulders tightens. I clench my teeth together to keep from snapping at him, and that’s when Magda finally releases Robbie, her eyes empty, her body a boneless mass. Ratted gold hair halos her bleeding head.
“It’s about fucking time.” Robbie winces, his hand gripping his bicep, placing firm pressure on the wound. He looks up at us, and I see apprehension on his face when he sees August beside me. He raises to his full height, and with incredible amounts of obvious trepidation, he meets his brother’s eyes.
“Are you responsible for this?” August sounds frustrated as I see him gesture to my neck out of the corner of my eye.
“Yes,” Robbie admits.
August sighs. “Even after I told you I hand-picked her for you?”
“She doesn’t care about you. She said so.”
“I did not.” I sound like I have a 50-pack-a-day cigarette habit, and my words burn as they escape me.
