Chapter 18

Olivia ran. She crushed gravel, digging tiny pebbles into her bare feet. She ran with tunnel vision, her eyes dry, her chest heaving. She sucked in breath after breath, the air stabbing her lungs like tiny daggers. Her bag bounced against her hip, making her itch and go numb. She closed her eyes, knowing all she needed to know about where she was headed – it was further away.

She knew where Hero was going. He was going to check the safe. If Pansy’s attackers were Cunnington laborers – it wasn’t going to take long for the Shank to give Hero the news. And if Olivia, her knowledge of the combination, and the safe were alone together all night… Hero was going to make sure.

But Olivia knew damn well that safe was going to be empty.

It was the perfect set up. Empty the safe while no one’s home. Set up Hero at Oregon Park while Olivia is home alone - and be sure to hire goons that directly related to Olivia. She, the Westcliff newcomer, becomes the perfect patsy. This wasn’t just about killing Hero – this was orchestrated quite carefully to frame her.

But if this was the case, someone else had the combination, and that someone else knew Olivia had it as well. But how was that possible?

Olivia reached the end an alley way, but not before a car ripped in her way, engine roaring, headlights aglow. Olivia could see Ace’s hat before she saw his face. She pointed her gun at his head and caught her breath.

“I’m being set up,” she shouted.

“Whoa, alright. Calm down. Put the gun down, and come get in the car.”

“I didn’t empty the safe.”

“I know,” said Ace. “But that doesn’t change the fact that every Blade in the Grove is looking for you right now. We gotta sort this shit out.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“Fuck. Sorry.” Ace tilted his head and frowned. “I didn’t realize you were overwhelmed with options.”

Olivia lowered the gun. Wincing, and thighs in pain, she got in the car.

“Okay, now take a breath, and tell me what happened,” said Ace, pulling onto the street.

“Not until you tell me where you’re taking me.”

“Just driving around,” said Ace. “Keep you moving so no one can find you. So what’s this about the safe?”

“It’s empty, isn’t it?” asked Olivia. “That’s why the Blades are after me now?”

“Why would anyone think you emptied the safe?” asked Ace. “That’s insane.”

“Because apparently some guys attacked Pansy so they could set up Hero at Oregon Park, and the guys have all worked with my father – someone hired them on purpose,” said Olivia.

“Fuck, that’s clever,” said Ace. “How did you figure that out?”

“My Dad called me and told me who got killed,” said Olivia. “Ace, you have to tell Hero I didn’t do this.”

“Hero’s too angry to be reasoned with right now,” said Ace. “Trust me. I tried.”

“What did he tell you?”

“He just told me to find you,” said Ace. “But if we’re gonna convince him you didn’t betray him, we gotta break this down, all right?  Now, the only other person who was in the house was Pansy, so when could anyone else have gotten into the safe?”

“It had to have happened before Hero and I got there,” said Olivia. “All the Cunnington guys must have broken in somehow.”

“Without Pansy noticing?”

Olivia glared at him.

“Don’t look at me like that. I believe you. But that ain’t gonna convince Hero.”

“Pansy was barely conscious,” Olivia hissed. “There has to be something else going on over here because I didn’t do anything. Why is no one blaming the Dragons? There’s a whole other gang out there—”

“A gang that got the safe combination how?” said Ace. “If you got answers, I’m all ears.”

“Fine. Then why did I do it? What the fuck was my motive? My parents are filthy fucking rich.”

“That may be,” said Ace. “But five years ago a lot of white Westcliff people got killed by Hero’s hand. It ain’t unlikely that you knew at least one of them.”

“What, like all white people know each other? That’s a real fucking stretch.”

“Fine. If you wouldn’t want to go after Hero, who would?”

Olivia pictured everyone she had met since she came to Sequoia Grove. Ace. Wildcard. Mixer. Stone. The Flowers. “Fuck,” said Olivia. “Who wouldn’t?”

 “Well, let’s be fair and look at how this shit looks from Hero’s point of view,” said Ace. “Let’s say five years ago, a few of your friends, Kai’lah’s kidnappers, were killed. You bided your time, you pulled your resources together, and you made a plan. You showed up at Lanka and the first thing you did is seduce any Blade you could get your hands on-”

 “Fuck you.”

“Don’t you want to know what they’re saying?” asked Ace. “Don’t you want to know what Hero is thinking?”

Olivia went silent.

“You couldn’t set up Hero without the help of the Dragons, so you promised them the safe combination,” continued Ace. “The Dragons helped you act like Hero’s little ideal, and they helped you set up Crash and Daniel, everything you needed to gain trust. And they put up the money to get your Cunnington boys on board.”

“Nobody can prove any of this.”

“But you had to keep your end of the deal and get that safe combination,” said Ace. “First you manipulated Seneka in thinking it was a good idea. As soon as she poured her heart out to Hero, the next part was easy. Have her blown away, and Hero would be so torn up with guilt he’d have to fulfill baby sister’s final wish.”

“But I never told her I wanted the combination!”

“Well, she can’t exactly back you up on that can she?” Ace frowned. “So once you delivered the combination to the Dragons, you were quick. Pansy gets attacked, Hero runs out to get revenge, the safe gets emptied in his absence, and here we are.”

“So Hero told you all of this?” Olivia asked. “Kinda sounds like you put all of that together yourself.”

“What makes you say that?” Ace asked. “I told you. I’m on your side.”

Olivia stiffened. Her blood went cold. She realized her fatal error. Ace never said the safe was empty. She did. He dished the game, she lost it. He’d been playing her since before she got in the car. Wherever he was taking her, it wasn’t anywhere good.

“Oh yeah?” asked Olivia. “Tell me you’re the queen of France.”

“What?”

“I want to hear what you sound like when you tell a lie. Tell me you’re the queen of France.” She pointed the gun at him. “Do it.”

Ace pulled the car over, gently bringing it to a slow halt. In still silence, he took in a soothing breath. “Fine.” He smiled at her. “Olivia, I’m the queen of France. Will you calm down now?”

She reached for the car door, giving Ace the opportunity to jerk her own gun out of her hand and point it straight at her head.

“You know, chag’ya, it would have been a great plan, if you hadn’t been so sloppy.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You didn’t expect Blondie, your little boyfriend with the dark eyebrows, to stumble into me at A’pa Sei’s shop,” said Ace. “He got all up in my grill, giving him shit about fucking and beating his beautiful little Olivia.”

“You’re not going to hurt me,” spat Olivia. “Blades can’t hurt women.”

“Hero gave me a pass once, didn’t he?” said Ace. “I’m sure as fuck he’ll do it again.”

The last thing Olivia could remember was white cloth pressed to her mouth.

Stone dreamily watched the light from the buzzing fluorescent lantern slide up and down his arm as he tapped the corner of his worn down cell phone. He waited for the plastic gadget to deliver him with a boredom-vanquishing ring. If there was one thing Hero was good at, it was making people wait.

A moldy but empty smell saturated the long-since abandoned classroom. Mixer chewed the inside of his mouth. The rim of Ace’s navy fedora covered his eyes. Wildcard leaned his head against the tattered wall.

Olivia’s eyes fluttered open. She saw her four friends, out of focus, and felt ropes binding her arms to a chair.

“Man,” said Wildcard. “I really hate killing people.” He leaned his face close to Olivia’s. “But I’m willing to make an exception for you, princess.”

“Shut the fuck up, Wildcard,” scoffed Ace. “You ain’t killin’ nobody.”

“Then why the fuck did I bring my gun!?” Wildcard snapped. “I’m so sick of this shit.”

“Wildcard!” snapped Stone, tapping the phone. “How many times we gotta go over this shit?”

Olivia fidgeted. “Where’s Hero?”

“Well, rise and shine, chag’ya,” said Ace. “Sleep well?”

“You guys can’t kill me, can you?” asked Olivia. “Where’s Hero? What about the code?”

Ace punched her in the face.

“Hey!” snapped Stone. “Not until we get orders.”

“Don’t worry,” said Ace, eyes heavy on Olivia. “She likes it.” He grabbed her face in his hands. “Don’t you, you little freak? You gonna get wet for me again?” He slid his thumb across her bottom lip.

“Ace, back the fuck off,” said Stone, pointing his gun. “We wait for orders.”

She pulled at her ropes. “There’s someone out there stealing from the Blades and betraying Hero and you’re wasting your time on me!”

Mixer looked down. “They gonna kill you, O, and it’s gonna be nasty.” He looked at her. “Just tell us where the shit is at and we gonna let you go. Swear it. We’d rather not hurt nobody else.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” She looked at Stone and Ace. “If you kill me here tonight, I’m not the only one you’ll be killing.” Her eyes burned. “It will kill Hero, too.”

Hero stood outside the door, just staring forward, thinking.

You made your choice. Too late to go back now.

But if it was too late, what was he doing there? There of all places?

He pictured Olivia’s face clearly in his mind, trying to forgive himself. Forgive himself for not seeing what clearly had to be the truth. She could not have ever been the person she claimed to be. The evidence was piled so strongly against her. But he couldn’t cope with the stress, hearing his heart say one thing, but his mind say the other. His mind had to be right. But then why did his heart have no doubts about this girl? How foolish was he?

At that very moment, at the abandoned high school, Olivia was tied to a chair, and Stone was sitting by his phone, awaiting orders. To kill, to damage, or to set free. The mere idea was a blatant violation of Blades Code. To harm a woman. But Hero was already a hypocrite. He had already hurt a woman badly since the code was written. It just wasn’t physical harm, and now it was time to tie up this one last loose end.

He sent a text to Stone.

kill her.

Stone was frozen. He couldn’t believe what he was reading.

“What did he say?” Wildcard asked, spotting Stone’s hesitation.

Stone didn’t say anything.

“Come on,” said Olivia. “I’m dying to know myself.”

Stone looked at her. “Shut up.” He looked at Ace. “Gag her.”

“You don’t gotta tell me twice.” Ace grabbed the bandana and tied it around Olivia’s mouth. She didn’t bother resisting.

Mixer was tempted to ask what was about to happen, but he really didn’t want to.

“Okay,” breathed Stone. “Hero just sent me his command... but I think the four of us better go outside and discuss it.”

The three boys looked at him questioningly.

“Outside,” said Stone. “Now.”

With heavy frowns, they followed Stone out the door. He left the phone on the table.

Hero knocked on the door. As it creaked open, his eyes were at the dusty floor. He followed a pair of thin, elegant legs all the way up to a familiar, sweet face.

“Hi,” said Pansy.

“Hi,” said Hero.

Pansy hesitated. “What are you doing here?”

“Will you just let me in? I want to talk to you.”

She moved bashfully on the side, watching his frame glide into her tiny apartment. She stared at him, astonished and moved, as she closed the door behind him.

“What’s wrong?” asked Pansy. “Are you okay? Where’s Olivia?”

“I don’t want to think about her right now.” Hero put his hands through Pansy’s hair. “I just came here to apologize.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” said Hero. “For everything. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Tears formed in Pansy’s eyes. “I forgive you, Hero.”

He leaned his head into Pansy’s. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.”

Pansy started to cry. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” She leaned her mouth into his and kissed him, tear drops lining their mouths.

“Wait.” He gently pushed her away. This was a mistake. It didn’t change anything. “I didn’t come here for that.”

“Then what did you come here for then?”

“Just to apologize. And that’s it. I just wanted to see you.” He turned his body back toward the door. “I gotta go.”

“Wait,” said Pansy, sniffling. “Wait. Please stay.”

“I can’t.”

“You must be hungry,” said Pansy. “Let me make you some food. Please? Let me cook you something. It won’t take long.”

Her eyes were wet and hopeful. “Okay. Please, sit.” She dashed into the tiny kitchen corner.

“One,” said a fuzzy cartoon voice. “One, two.”

“One, two bananas!” said a child.

Hero looked into the tiny living room area. There was little Kang’ju, sitting on the floor. Kang’ju pressed another button, and the cartoon voice said, “Five.” She pressed it again.  “Five.”

“Five bananas!” shouted Kang’ju.

Hero went over and sat next to her. “When you gonna learn to count in order, princess?”

“I’m not counting,” said Kang’ju. She pressed the buttons again.

“One,” said the computer. “Two.” The computer spoke on with every button pressed. “Five. Five. Three. Two. Eight—”

Hero grabbed the computer from her. “What are you doing?”

“Pressing the numbers,” said Kang’ju. “So I don’t forget.”

Hero frowned. “You still know that number? It’s been a minute, how do you—”

“One, two,” she said. “Five. Five. Three—”

“Hero?” said Pansy from the kitchen. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” said Hero. “No, I don’t… I don’t think so…”

Pansy came back in and looked into the room.

“Pansy, how often does Kang’ju play with this little number thing?”

Pansy shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Mommy loves the numbers game!” said Kang’ju. “She laughed a lot.”

“Did she?” asked Hero. He looked at Pansy with a warm smile, though his heart flopped in his chest. “I’m glad to hear she’s smiling.”

Pansy smiled and looked straight at the floor.

“Mommy, mommy!” said Kang’ju. “Five. Five. Three, and then what?”

Hero looked Pansy in the eye. “Yeah. Then what?”

Pansy gulped. “I don’t know.”

“Sure you do. Then what?”

Pansy gave him a big hug. “I’m just so happy you’re here. Can’t you just stay? Just be here with me and Kang’ju tonight. Please. Everything gonna be great, you’ll see. We could be so happy.”

Hero stroked her hair. “Okay. I’ll stay. But you gotta do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“You gotta tell me those numbers. I want to trust you.”

“Okay,” said Pansy. She was desperately uncertain, but his eyes were persistent and warm. She gave in. “One, two...”

Hero didn’t leave her eyes.

“Five, five, three...”

He nodded encouragingly.

“...two, eight.” She gulped.

He put his fingers through her hair. “It’s okay. Calm down, okay? You were scared. I understand.” He looked at Kang’ju. “I knew that Kang’ju would repeat that number enough times that you would catch on. The same seven digits over and over? If Kang’ju didn’t tell you straight up, you were gonna figure it out.”

Pansy let out a sigh of relief. “Then why didn’t you just tell me? I would have been honored.”

“You definitely wouldn’t have stolen from the safe if I had told you directly – it would have been too obvious it was you,” Hero explained. “If you had the combination thinking I didn’t know you had it, well, that’s a different story.”

“It was a test?” Pansy asked.

“A test that you passed,” he said. He kissed her forehead. “Someone else, unfortunately, did not.”

But he had spoken too soon.

Hero couldn’t breathe. He tried to take in oxygen, and all that came through were tiny, dizzying ripples. His throat went dry, but he kept his face calm. Do-rag. Do-rag on the chair. Crash’s do-rag.

Hero thought fast.

“What’s wrong?” asked Pansy. She could feel him grow tense.

“Alright,” Hero shuddered. “I have to go handle something very important. Okay? I’ll be back. I promise.” He kissed her. Her mouth tasted toxic.

The phone buzzed. Olivia stared at it.

She shouted through her ropes as loud as she could, twisting, fighting, and pleading. It was no use.

Buzz, buzz, buzz. Short pause. Buzz, buzz, buzz.

Please. Please. Someone. It’s him. He’s telling you not to kill me. Where are you?

Sweat collected at every corner of her face. Salty drops fell onto the bandana. No matter how much she wailed, only a mild, muffled sound came through. Saliva-soaked fabric rubbed the corners of her mouth raw.

Buzz, buzz, buzz. Stop. Silence.

More silence.

And the boys came back in.

“Okay.” Stone looked at Olivia, holding his gun at his side. “Let’s get on with it then.” He lifted the barrel to her forehead.

“Wait,” said Mixer. “Don’t do it.”

“Mixer!” said Ace. “We decided!”

“We didn’t decide, Hero decided,” said Mixer. “And back in the day, he decided we don’t hurt women. I chose to be a Blade and follow the code.”

“You lost your sister,” Ace reminded him. “And this bitch killed mine.”

“No she didn’t!” Mixer said. “Those white boys did – and they already got what was comin’ to ‘em!”

Ace looked at Stone. “Don’t let Mixer trip you up. Just do it.”

“You don’t want Olivia dead either, Ace!” Mixer shouted. “You wouldn’t be so mad at her if you didn’t love her so goddamn much!”

Ace pointed his gun at Mixer’s head. “Shut the fuck up!”

“See?” Mixer spat. “You’re so out of your mind you got a gun on me now!”

Ace clenched his teeth and repositioned his barrel. Olivia was the new target. “Fine. Stone, if you’re not gonna do it, I will.”

The end of a new pistol pressed against Ace’s head.

“Put the fucking gun down.”

Hero.

 “I think I speak for everyone in this room when I say...” said Wildcard. “...what the fuck?”

“The ‘fuck’ is we have to get out of here right now,” said Hero. “We break in different directions, meet back up on third and Washington in fifteen. I’ll explain everything then.” He lowered his gun and went to town on Olivia’s ropes. “Crash probably knows we’re here.”

Mixer helped Hero get the ropes completely untied as Stone pulled the gag from Olivia’s mouth. “Crash?”

Olivia shook off the ropes and jumped from her chair. “Shut up and move!”

They collected outside the high school, but it was too late. Four cars had already pulled up and parked just outside the door, plenty of armed goons in toe, with Om’bai in the spotlight, a gun to the side of Pansy’s head. Pansy was weeping.

“All we want is Hero,” said Om’bai. “Come with us, and Pansy doesn’t get hurt.”

Hero frowned. “No deal.”

Om’bai chuckled. “Oh, Hero. For all your posturing, you always were willing to let an innocent woman die, weren’t you?” He clutched the side of her neck, making her whimper.

“Please, Hero,” whined Pansy. “Please, don’t let him hurt me.”

Hero breathed hard, frowning, thinking, and pausing.

And Olivia’s eyebrow twitched. “...really?”

Stone stared at her, hissing a whisper, “What the fuck is the problem?”

“I mean, who says that?” Olivia was perfectly calm. “‘Don’t let him hurt me?’ Please. Aren’t you supposed to say like, don’t give in? Don’t worry about me? Save yourself? I mean she’s being kind of a whiney bitch, I’m just saying.”

Stone’s eyes popped out. “Olivia, now ain’t the time to--”

The sound of another car door opening jerked their faces back to center stage, where Crash emerged with his hands on Kang’ju’s shoulders. A few feet away, Pansy was now free and armed, pointing her gun at Hero’s head.

“Okay, now I’m really confused,” said Wildcard.

“I don’t blame you, Wildcard,” sighed Om’bai. “I really don’t like these theatrics either. But, my associates and I really want the contents of the safe, and if all we have to do is play Pansy’s little game, it’s a price we’re willing to pay.” He looked at Hero. “I overestimated you, Hero. Giving the combination to your four year old daughter was a wildly irresponsible move.”

Daughter? All eyes on the Blades side were now pointed straight at their leader. A liar.

Hero smirked wryly. “Yeah, I’m gettin’ that.”

“How could you lie to me for so long?” wept Pansy. “You told me we couldn’t be together because Kang’ju and I would never be safe. But what about her?” She tilted her chin toward Olivia. “You weren’t too scared to hold her! That was supposed to be me!” She sniffled. “I just wanted you to suffer. I wanted your heart to break like mine did.”

Hero looked at the floor. Calculating. He looked back up. “You just want me?”

Stone looked at Hero. “You ain’t gonna give in to them are you?” Hero raised a silencing hand.

“Yes,” said Om’bai.

“Fine,” said Hero. “The Blades will trade me for Kang’ju.”

“No deal,” spat Pansy. “You can’t have my daughter.”

“Or, we could just all start shooting each other and see who’s left standing,” said Hero. “Your call, Om’bai.”

Om’bai looked at Pansy. “Your daughter is useless to me. Hero, however, isn’t.” He looked at the Blades. “Deal.” He nodded to Crash.

Crash lifted his hands from Kang’ju’s shoulders.

“Come here,” said Hero. “It’s okay.”

Kang’ju walked awkwardly to her father. He gave her a hug.

“Stay here with Stone. It’s gonna be okay.” He gently nudged her toward Stone, and looked at his crew. “Don’t follow me.” He started to walk toward Om’bai’s car.

“Hero!” Olivia snapped. “Do I at least get an apology?”

Hero glared at her. “Sure. I’m sorry you didn’t listen the first time I told you to stay the fuck out of Sequoia Grove.” He looked at Stone again. “I’m serious. This is my final order. Do not follow this car.”

As Hero sat in the car, Olivia dashed to the door, her fingers locking its edges. “I know you want a woman to punish you for what happened to Kai’lah, but don’t make the rest of us suffer for your guilt.”

He jerked the door out of her fingers, but she shoved her arm in the door.

“It wasn’t your fault Hero,” Olivia cried. “You did the right thing.”

He pushed her arm out and slammed the door shut. The engines roared, and the Dragon caravan disappeared into the city.

The Blades crew rushed back into 912, broken, confused, and shaken. Olivia was holding Kang’ju’s hand.

“You a goddamn coward, you know that?” Wildcard shouted, chasing Stone into the house.

“Hero said do nothing, so we do nothing, end of discussion,” hissed Stone, closing the door behind them. He looked at Olivia. “Now why don’t you get back on the train and go back to Westcliff where you belong?”

“Fuck you,” spat Olivia. “I made Hero a promise, that everything I do is to protect him and his family, and I intend to keep that promise.”

“I made Hero a promise too--to abide by the code,” said Stone. “And guess what? Code says no woman can be a Blade.”

“The code also says that only Hero has the combination-and no harm to women,” retorted Olivia, “so we can clearly see how seriously he takes your precious code!”

“Olivia’s right!” said Wildcard. “We need to mount up! Those motherfuckers killed Seneka just to get to Hero! It’s time to tear those motherfuckers down!”

Stone ignored him. “Olivia, look. You want to keep your promise, why don’t you spend that energy trying to figure out what we’re gonna do about his daughter? She can’t stay here.” He looked at Ace and Wildcard. “Y’all need to figure out how we gonna recoop our losses.”

“Your biggest loss right now...” Olivia grumbled. “...is Hero.”

 “Cut your ‘love conquers all’ shit, O,” interjected Ace. “He was an inch away from letting us pump your skull full of holes. Why the fuck are you so gung ho about saving him?”

Olivia shot him a lightning glare. “I fucking dare you to question my motives again, asshole.”

“I’m taking you up on that dare, snow bunny.”

Olivia stomped toward him, ready to throw a hard punch to his jaw, but was interrupted by the sound of glass shattering. Their heads jerked to the side, seeing the remains of a shattered glass fall from the wall to the carpet. Mixer stood nearby.

“I can’t believe you guys treat me like a child,” said Mixer, “when you act like this.”

Stone frowned. “Mixer--”

“Shh.” Mixer folded his arms. “Stop being babies.” He looked at Stone. “Olivia’s right. We can’t just sit here.”

Stone took a deep breath. “Mixer, Hero said--”

“You only want to do what Hero said because you don’t have any better ideas,” said Mixer. He stood up straight and looked everyone in the room square in the eye. “But I do.”

[Sorry for the delay! Working on the final two chapters TODAY!]

Chapter 17

WARNING: This chapter includes adult material not intended for anyone under the age of 18 or anyone in my family. Read at your own risk.

Olivia couldn’t relax. Every time her tension began to slip away and her eyes lost their grip of focus, she would snap back into complete attentiveness. She gripped the bottom of her pillow and could feel the warmth of Hero’s back against hers.

Going to sleep at 912 was rarely silent, but Olivia found herself hyper-aware of every sound. Every footstep, every groan, every creek. Who was awake? What were they doing? Was Mixer high, playing video games? Was Ace cleaning his gun? Was Stone drinking? The beep reverberated in her imagination.

Stone and Olivia had stopped speaking to one another. It wasn’t so difficult; they hadn’t spoken often to begin with. But that smell, that odor of liquor, that look in Stone’s eyes... Living under the same roof was getting under her skin. Did he know she had the combination? She couldn’t be sure. And even if he did, did it even matter?

“You aren’t talking,” whispered Hero.

“Aren’t I supposed to be sleeping?”

“But you’re not.” Hero turned around. “You don’t think I did the right thing.”

Olivia rolled over and managed a smile. “I don’t think there’s ever a clear right or wrong thing. Especially not down here.”

He glared at her. “Don’t bullshit me.”

“I never bullshit you.”

“But you don’t think I was the target, do you?”

Olivia was silent, the image of Seneka’s death buzzing in her mind like television static.

“Okay, smart girl,” said Hero, frowning, snide, “why would anyone want to kill Seneka?”

“I don’t know.”

“Exactly. Because there is no reason.”

“Hero, come on. I already said I was supporting you. Why are you picking a fight with me?”

“Because if there’s any reason, I want to hear it.”

Olivia looked away from his eyes. “Falynn said Seneka was the peace keeper in the grove, so now that she’s gone…”

“Now that she’s gone, what?”

“Well, maybe somebody doesn’t want peace.”

Hero turned onto his back. “I’ll pick you up from work tomorrow. I don’t want Stone doing it.”

She shifted uncomfortably. “I really don’t need a ride.”

“Well, I want to give you one. And my will is stronger.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

Olivia lay their silently, letting the insomnia dig its claws into her belly once again. She listened to him breathe. He breathed hard, in and out, and fidgeted heavily. After a few moments, she heard the sound of fabric sliding against fabric. His arm reached around her belly, he pulled her onto her back, and the warmth of his leg hugged hers.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Olivia. “What are you doing?”

“Fucking you. What do you think I’m doing?”

“I don’t want to.”

He sighed and pressed his lips together. “Don’t you want me?”

“Not right now. Not like this.”

He lay on his side next to her, his elbow rested on her left side, his right arm over her body, looking down and over her. He looked up at her eyes.

“Do you love me?” Hero asked. “For real?”

“Of course! Come on, Hero, you know I’ve given up a lot for you—”

“Not your heart.” He shook his head. “I don’t feel it.”

“I didn’t think you cared.”

“I do.” He stroked her hair. “You and I have risked a lot for each other. What did we risk it for?”

Olivia put her hand on the side of his face. She brushed the hair from his eyes and let her fingers trail his cheek. Her chest tightened up with an acute, stinging sadness. “I’m really sorry I ever made you feel like I don’t love you. It’s a tragedy.”

“Then tell me I’m wrong.”

“You are wrong,” she said, slightly laughing. “You are the only person, in my entire life, who has ever bothered to ask me what I wanted.” She raised her voice a bit, freeing herself. “The only thing I know I want for sure is to be yours. This is the only time I ever felt special. In my whole life. And if anyone tries to hurt you, Seneka, the flowers, or anyone you care about ever again, they will fucking pay. And that’s it. They will fucking pay.”

Hero’s breath jolted a bit with emotion and his gentle touch to her hair became a grip. He could hear the desperation in her voice. He could see the devotion in her eyes.

“They will pay,” he said. “And you are special. You are all that is special and precious to me.” He kissed her. “You and me together. We gonna run the fucking table.”

“Fuck yeah, we are,” Olivia said, building a smile from deep in her gut. “Nobody hurts us and gets away with it.”

“Damn, girl,” he said, with a hesitant laugh. “You as ruthless as you are beautiful.”

“Count on it,” she smiled. “I swear. As far as I’m concerned, my purpose on this planet is to make you happy and do what’s best for your family.”

“Our family,” he said with a smile. “And I promise to protect you and love you for the rest of my life. That’s my word.”

He kissed her hard, gripping her body and seizing her senses. He owned them, but she gave them to him. He was not a thief, he was a welcomed recipient.

Her hands slurped up the flavor of warm, soft skin as they traveled the landscape of his body. Her legs slowly rose to hug his thigh and she enjoyed the steady, intoxicating heat of his groin against her thigh. Her feet rubbed against his giddily, soaking up more sensation.

He slid the blanket from her body, carefully studying every part he exposed. He venerated her skin, respecting it as the most precious gift the universe had ever given him. He was rediscovering her. It was as if they had never touched before.

His teeth tightened together, partnering with a grunt of aggression as he pushed his body into hers, joining them. A sultry grunt escaped his throat and a white hot surge of lightning launched through her body. She could feel it from her teeth to the tip of her toes. He collapsed into her as her arms wrapped him into safety, rocking him up and down. Caressing him. Loving him.

“Come for me, chag’ya.”

And the pleasure unleashed, ripping though her veins and tearing through her body with brute ferocity. His eyes never left hers, and though the pleasure temporarily fazed her senses, her focus remained on his face. His freefall into climax rippled from his bucking abdomen straight out of his mouth in a long, rippling moan. She could feel his warm breath on her mouth and chin and she could see the pleasure in his soulful, rich gaze.

Still and calm, they looked at each other in the wake of their recovery. He rolled to her side with a gentle kiss, and she was weakened and satisfied. He kissed her again, wet and warm. He kissed her again, short and sweet. And again. And again. Again and again, picking up the speed of hummingbird wings as the kisses faded into a big, solid smile.

Everything was going to be okay. As long as they had each other, everything would be okay. Olivia slept soundly.

When Hero pulled up at Barrington’s, Olivia had a spring in her step. She danced to the door, her purse swinging. As soon as she threw her butt into the passenger’s seat, they exchanged smiles, and she pressed her mouth against his in a fiery, joyful kiss.

“Hey chag’ya,” he smiled. “How was work?”

“Fine,” she said, kissing him again. “How’s the manhunt?”

“It’s like the fucker fell off the face of the Earth,” sighed Hero, starting the engine. “I don’t understand it. “Nobody’s ever evaporated like this before. Not since Crash.”

“Crash is still missing too?”

“It’s damn weird,” said Hero. “The Shank has people. He know where everyone is. Always. But the Shank says if he can’t get a lead by the end of the week, I can have my money back.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Nothing good about any of this,” he sighed. “But in the mean time, your beauty can’t waste away in that cramped house all night so tonight we are going to go to dinner, have drinks, and have a good time. What do you think?”

“That sounds amazing.”

Olivia and Hero spent the evening having an adventure together. They ate until their bellies were full, they drank until they could barely stand, they laughed until their eyes watered. They told stories, they shared jokes, and they formed new ones. They people-watched, they talked shit, and they sang along with the radio. Right when she thought there was nothing more to see, Hero had one more thing to show her.

“This is 8^th Block.”

They parked on a hill, overlooking the towers. They were tall and dark, with only a few scattered lights in a few of the windows. Every way she looked, the perimeter was lined with crooked gates and damaged fences. There was a huge front yard with patches of dead grass and scattered trash, lined with a few dimly lit seating areas and drying laundry.

“That’s the pit,” said Hero. “I grew up in the second tower, right there.”

“Can we go down there?” asked Olivia.

“Nah, you don’t wanna go down there, I just wanted you to see it.”

She looked at him. “Why?”

He shrugged. “It’s where I came from.”

“I thought with the Blades it’s not about where you came from, it’s about where you go.”

 “Maybe we just can’t escape where we came from when we choose where we go.”

Olivia leaned into Hero, smiled at him, and gave him a big kiss. “Thank you. For everything tonight, and for showing me this.”

He put his arm around her and kissed her back. Perfect.

When Hero and Olivia turned onto Branden street, a peculiar shape caught Olivia’s eyes. A trickle of blood led up to a tiny frame, a girl, huddled in their doorstep. A high heel shoe sparkled under the porch light.

Hero stiffened. “What the fuck…”

The car ripped onto the driveway and the couple leapt out of it, muscles tight like cats about to pounce, and they dashed to the front of the house. A young woman, hair in her eyes, was crumpled into an awkward ball. She crawled, leaving streaks of blood behind her, scooting to Hero’s feet. Pansy. She grasped his pant leg.

“I’m so sorry,” she wept. “They didn’t give me no money, Hero. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” She looked up at him, her eyes swollen and bruised. “It’s my fault.”

“It’s gonna be okay, Pansy, come on.” Hero opened the door and helped her inside, Olivia following. He guided Pansy to the kitchen, sat her on the chair, and knelt before her, one hand on her leg and the other on the side of her face.

“Pansy, calm down. I forgive you. What happened?”

She sucked up tears. “I just… I was…”

Hero looked at Olivia. “Get her a towel.” He looked back at Pansy. “Just take a breath. Calm down. Where’s Kang’ju?”

Pansy looked up, eyes dripping. “Kang’ju?”

“Yes, Kang’ju. Your child.”

Pansy’s face twisted. “She’s fine.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s fine, Hero.” Her eyebrows clenched. “She’s at 8^th. With Cojack and Orchid. She’s fine.”

“Alright,” said Hero. “Okay. Now what happened to you?”

“Some white boys. Came up to the club, lookin’ to party. I didn’t smart off or nothing, they just got bad taste. They liked it.” She started crying again. “They all wanted a slap at me, Hero.”

Olivia handed Pansy a towel and folded her arms. “And they just dropped you off here?”

Hero shot her a glare. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“Well, why didn’t they just leave her at the club?” said Olivia. “She doesn’t even live here. And how did they know you did? Isn’t that a little fishy to you?”

Hero looked back at Pansy. “Where are they now?”

Pansy looked down for a second. “They said, uh—”

“Don’t.” Olivia stepped forward. “Don’t tell him where they are.”

Pansy looked back at Olivia, but Hero turned her face back to him. “Forget her. Just tell me where those motherfuckers are.”

“Pansy,” Olivia pressed. “They used you to set up Hero. They attacked you and left you here to tempt Hero to get revenge. Don’t let them win this.”

“Olivia,” Hero hissed. “This ain’t some big conspiracy. They’re animals, and they need to be put down like such.”

“Hero, if you leave this house you are a retarded person. I guarantee they are ready for you.”

“Oregon Park,” said Pansy, looking Hero square in the eyes. “They said they was going to some kegger or some shit at Oregon Park.”

Hero stood up. “Olivia, stay here with Pansy. Call Ace, have him come here, and have Stone go check on Kang’ju.”

Olivia jutted her face forward with a heavy frown. “Did you not hear anything I just said?”

“I already let Seneka’s killer get away, I ain’t gonna sit by on this one.”

Olivia chased him to the door. “Of course you’re not. They’re counting on that. You’re playing right into their hands.”

Hero opened the door. “Just do what I said.”

Olivia put both hands on the side of his face, voice intensifying. “Hero. Please. I love you. Listen to me. They’re going to kill you--”

“I’m not the one who’s dying tonight.”

“I’m begging you. Please. Don’t go.” She stood in the way of the door. “It’s a set up. Please. Have I ever been wrong!?”

Hero frowned. “Why are you so sure?”

Olivia’s face fell. “What?”

“You know something you aren’t telling me?” Hero asked.

She froze, lips parted, tears in her eyes. “No. Just look at the facts for a second, Hero. Use your brain.”

Hero pushed her out of way and pulled the door open. “Stop wasting my fucking time.” He slammed the door behind her.

Hands on the wheel, clenching fists, engine roaring. If only the gas tank were connected to Hero’s veins, he could’ve driven faster.

When Hero parked, he saw a bonfire in a trash can in the middle of a field. It was oddly still, other than the dance of the dying flames. There were no voices, no movement, nothing. Hero got out of the car. Was Olivia right? But how elegant could their trap have possibly been? What, did they have landmines? A sniper? How could that be? He took a step forward.

A knife pressed against his neck.

Hero gulped, his Adam’s apple bouncing against the blade. “And who are you?”

A soft cackle tickled his ear. He could feel the smile spreading behind his shoulder.

“Who do you think I am?” said the rough, sandpaper voice. It danced from the man’s mouth like a jovial child.

Hero frowned. “Okay. But if you really are the Shank, why am I still alive?”

The man’s laugh was so tiny, like the fluttering coo of a baby bird. “Because you aren’t the one I was hired to kill.”

“Alright. Then why is there a knife on my neck?”

“Dramatic effect.”

“Okay…” Hero paused. “You mind, uh, lettin’ up on that dramatic effect a little?”

The Shank removed the knife. “With pleasure. However, I do have one final assignment.”

“Is this the killing me part?”

“No. It’s the telling you to take a step forward part. So, uh, take a step forward.”

Hero did, and caught sight of a shoe. No, two shoes. Three… four… Four bodies. Golden against the licks of firelight. Bloody. Broken. Slices. And arranged in a perfect square. He caught notice that none of the pairs of shoes matched. In fact, the man closest to them seemed as if his legs were two different lengths.

The Shank giggled. “I switched all their arms and legs.” He stopped giggling. “Just for fun.”

“You have a fucked up idea of fun.”

“So do they,” said the Shank. “Beating and raping a girl. And leaving her at her at her pimp’s house just to lure him to his death? Strange idea of fun indeed.” He shrugged. “At least I do it for money.”

Hero turned around to the Shank. “Who’s money?”

The Shank just smiled.

“Let me guess,” said Hero, raising an eyebrow. “Redhead? An affinity for firepower? No sense of tact?”

The Shank just smiled some more.

He looked down. “And I’ll bet she knows how these guys got their firepower…”

The Shank crept back into the shadows.

“Wait,” said Hero. “Who are these guys? Why did they want to kill me? Did they kill my sister?”

“I will inform you as I’m informed,” said the Shank. “And as I’m paid.”

Olivia slammed her phone on the bathroom counter. “Shit. Still not charged enough to make a single damn call. Not even a text. Do you have a phone?”

Pansy was in the bathtub, she held her knees close to her chest. “I don’t know where it is.” She sighed, dejectedly. “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” said Pansy.

“You just marched Hero off to his death. Who could be mad?”

Pansy put her cheek on her knee. “Hero will be fine. It’s those guys who are stupid. We have a saying in my country… you will get caught if your tail is too long.”

Olivia sat on the toilet seat. “Do you think these are the same guys that shot Seneka? What kind of car were they driving?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Pansy waved her hand through the water, pressing her lips together. “Seneka came to see me right before she died.” She pouted a little. “She was worried about the baby.”

Olivia didn’t say anything.

Pansy focused on her own hands, waving through the reddened water. “She was so scared. You don’t have a baby so you don’t know that kind of fear.”

“I know what it’s like to fear for somebody you love. That’s how I feel right now.”

Pansy stared at her. “A child, Olivia. Do you know how it feels to love a child!?”

Olivia froze. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” said Pansy. “Don’t be mad that I told Hero where those boys are. Hero will be fine.” She sniffled and wiped her nose. “Hero has to be fine. Hero is all we have.”

Olivia leaned closer to the tub. “Look. You and Kang’ju don’t have to live like this. I could get you a job at Barrington’s. I’m sure that Hero can figure it out, he’s got plenty of money. You could start a new life.”

 “I’m not the one who can’t handle this life, Olivia,” said Pansy, breaking her despondency with a small laugh. “You are.”

The door creaked. Olivia had fallen asleep on the floor next to the couch where Pansy was wrapped in a blanket, lost beneath layers of unconsciousness. The sound of the door stabbed Olivia awake. Her first sight was Hero’s foot crossing the door frame.

“Oh, thank God.” Olivia jumped up, ran to the door, and threw her arms around him. “You’re okay.”

Hero closed the door behind him and twisted himself out of Olivia’s grasp. “Why the fuck didn’t you call Ace!?”

“My phone was out of batteries. I couldn’t call him.”

“I been gone an hour,” snapped Hero. “How long does it take to charge a damn phone!?”

“The phone couldn’t charge, I tried,” said Olivia.

“Where is it?”

“The bathroom.”

Olivia followed Hero into the bathroom. He pulled her phone from the wall and sighed. “You’re charger’s fried. Just hook it up to mine.”

She followed him back to the bedroom. He plugged her phone into the wall on her side of the bed.

“There ya go.” He glared at her. “No more excuses.”

Her jaw trembled. “Fuck you. Do you have any idea how scared I was!?”

“If you were really so scared you would have found a way to contact somebody.” He sat on the bed and started to undress. “And you would have been right too. It was a set up. The Shank had already killed them all before I got there. He didn’t tell me shit though.”

“Who hired him? Were they involved with Seneka?”

“What part of ‘he didn’t tell me shit’ don’t you understand?”

Olivia’s phone began buzzing up a storm. She glanced at it. Five texts and a voice mail.

“Now let’s just go to bed,” said Hero, sitting on the edge of the bed. “We can’t do shit right now.” He buried his face in his hands for a second.

Olivia circled the bed, stood in front of him, and scowled hard.

He put his hands down. “What the fuck is your problem?”

She slapped him across the face.

“Argh!” he touched his stinging cheek. “What the fuck was that for?”

“I was right. You were wrong and you were lucky. Admit it.” She shoved him. “Admit it! And stop being an ass!”

She pulled her hand back again, but he grabbed her wrists. “Fine. Calm down.” He looked into her eyes. “You were right. I should have listened to you.”

“Damn right you should have.” She relaxed. “You promise to believe me from now on?”

He looked down.

“Promise me!” she hissed.

He looked up at her. “I promise.”

She kissed him.

Beep.

Stupid text message reminders. Ace had long since come, gotten debriefed, and taken Pansy back to 8^th Block, and Olivia had nearly dozed off with Hero at her side before her phone decided to give her a heart attack. She thought that sound was ancient history.

She grabbed the phone and checked her texts. She figured they would be from Hero, but every single one was from the same sender. Her father. Please call. If you get this, please call. Where are you? She sat upright in her bed, Hero asleep at her side, and listened to her voicemail.

“Olivia,” said Dan. “Please call me as soon as you get this message, I need hear you’re alright.” He took a breath. “Honey, something happened in Sequoia Grove tonight.”

Olivia felt sick.

“Logan, Bennett, Aaron, Joe… I don’t know if you remember them. Good guys, friends of mine. Friends of the company. Hard workers. You probably remember Joe, you used to make fun of him because his hair was bleached but he had really dark eyebrows.”

Olivia trembled.
“They were killed,” continued Dan. “In Oregon Park. It was pretty brutal.”

Hero’s phone rang. She paused the message.

“Shit,” said Hero, sitting up. “Unknown caller. Must be the Shank.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. She didn’t know what was happening, but whatever it was, it was happening fast, and she needed to think. She continued playing her father’s message. “I understand if you don’t want to come to the funeral, but please let us know you’re okay. Thanks.”

Olivia put her phone down, fingers clenched around it, and pressed against her thigh.

“Hmm.” Hero’s back was to Olivia’s. She could feel the heat of it. She knew the Shank was on the phone, and thanks to Dad, she knew what Hero was being told. She felt it. “Thank you.” And Hero hung up.

“Was that the Shank?” asked Olivia, heart pumping.

Hero sighed. “Uh, yeah.” He curled back up into their bed sheets. “He doesn’t know anything yet.”

Olivia turned her face his direction. “He called you to say he didn’t know anything?”

Hero exhaled. “Yeah.”

Olivia’s heart drummed against her rib cage.

“I gotta go check on something,” said Hero, climbing out of bed.

“Check what?” Olivia asked, in a hoarse whisper.

“I’ll be right back, don’t worry,” he said. He crossed the bed, and kissed her forehead. “Just relax. Everything’s fine.” He exited the room.

What was he checking on? No one was home, Pansy was gone. He left his phone in the room, so he didn’t need to make a call.

Olivia thought further. They hired Cunnington workers. The attack, luring Hero out of the house… Why? Come on, Olivia, figure it out. What were they trying to pin on her?

What was Hero checking on? She heard a slight creak and weighted stomps as Hero descended stairs. They were fast. He was hurrying.

She gasped. Olivia was the only one who had the safe combination. Or maybe not.

Olivia threw her phone and her Sig into her purse, pulled a dress over her head, and dashed to the window.



Chapter 16

Just like that. One second, they were all celebrating, hugging, laughing, and then a second later Seneka was gone. The boys didn’t take as much as a full breath before dashing to their cars, roaring engines, and chasing after the black Toyota Camry that launched the attack. Stone had to carry Wildcard’s limp, weeping body and force him into his back seat. Hero moved, fueled on blind fury alone.

The culprit got away. Somehow, in the blind, black turns of Second Circle, the Toyota was lost, and after a few furious, tear-drenched phone calls to friends in both and high and low places, the night was over. Roll credits.

Wildcard didn’t speak until the morning before Seneka’s funeral. Surprisingly, it was just Hero’s attempt to pour him a glass of orange juice that knocked him out of his vow of silence.

“Fuck you. Give me that.” Wildcard took the carton away and began chugging away at it, orange liquid trailing his jaw.

Hero attempted an unthreatening stance. “You alright, man?”

Wildcard slammed the carton down and wiped his mouth. “Fuck you! Am I alright? I was gonna be a dad. And don’t you dare come at me with no ‘I know, I been there’ bullshit, ‘cause you know damn well this is your fault.”

Hero bit back an angry retort. “I know you’re in real pain, but keep your head straight. You know damn well I had nothing to do with this.”

“Bullshit! You think some Grove nigga would drive by Lanka and pop off baby girl at close range? Fuck no. You pulled some shit, and that gun was pointed at you.” Tears nestled in his waterline. “Who would want to hurt that girl, Hero? Who would wanna hurt my baby? Nobody.” He pointed a hard finger forward. “That fool wanted the piece of shit standing next to her.” He knocked the juice over, letting it spill on the floor, and stormed out of the kitchen.

Olivia, who had observed the whole exchange from the other side of the room, took some paper towels and helped Hero wipe up the mess.

“I don’t think that’s true,” said Olivia. “I was there. The gun was close. I don’t know if this is hurting or helping, but… I’m pretty sure Seneka was the intended target.”

“Please,” said Hero. “Just stop. Stop talking.”

He had dark circles under his eyes, which made sense considering how little had slept the past three days. Olivia would wake, but this time not to Hero stroking her hair. He would be trembling, skin cold and slick with sweat, clutching her body for dear life. She wouldn’t dare ask, but she suspected he was having a recurring nightmare: a repeating image of Seneka, smiling and teary-eyed, and then disappearing in a flash of blood and skull fragments. She believed this because she was having the very same one.

Pow. Over and over again. The dream felt more real than the memory. Olivia could only process the event as some unreal, impossible thing.

Olivia felt really uncomfortable at Seneka’s funeral. Like an imposter. The drive to the burial site was so long and the past few days had been so exhausting, it was all she could do to stay awake. Her eyelids drooped, but the inevitable guilt that followed kept her awake.

When they got there and she saw that deep, ominous 6-foot-deep pit in the grassy earth, it became real. The site was beautiful – it wasn’t one of those crowded, claustrophobic urban cemeteries. It was a green, open field surrounded by a sea of flowers and encased by a crowd of trees. Heavenly. Muddled weeping became a steady soundtrack as the boys lowered the coffin into the awaiting space.

The Dragons and Blades, once again, shared the space below the 912 roof. They traded stories, drank beers, played cards, and ate extensively. When Olivia’s head floated through bubbles of conversation, they weren’t in English, locking her into exclusion. The gentle push of the unintended expulsion guided her toward the front door, and as she got closer, she saw little Kang’ju, sitting with her doll in the corner, in her mother’s arms. The child was crying heavy salty tears, and Olivia ran out.

No thought went into this, only animal instinct, desire to escape. Maybe it was Olivia’s propensity for escape that led her to Sequoia Grove to begin with, and now, it was what made her want to leave it.

There was a conspicuous red truck on the street. She hadn’t seen it when they got there, and couldn’t recall anyone in their group owning such a truck. The smoke drifting from the driver’s side window indicated a presence within, and the tan skin, black nail polish, and the black boot hanging out the window all the more enflamed Olivia’s curiosity. She approached the truck, and within seconds, she recognized the racially ambiguous face in front of her, and the red braids that framed it.

“Falynn.” Olivia said the name as if she were reading it off a pamphlet.

“Olivia.” Falynn mimicked Olivia’s tone without looking at her. “So Seneka got blown away.”

Olivia nodded slowly.

Falynn tapped her cigarette. “Bummer.”

“You wish it were me, don’t you?”

Falynn looked at her. “Why do you always think it’s about you?”

Olivia ignored her. “Why are you out here? I mean and not in there?”

“I can’t be seen in there.”

“But I can see you now.”

“Yeah, so why the fuck aren’t you in there?”

“Don’t spin this on me, alright? I know you’re the gun dealer in Sequoia Grove, and chances are you’re here out of guilt because you know who did this.”

“That brain of yours is gonna get you killed.”

“It’s gonna find Seneka’s killer first.”

Falynn laughed. “Sweet, naïve little girl. You watch too many movies.” She shook her head patronizingly.

“Do you know who did this?” Olivia pressed on. “Tell me.”

“I have someone working on it,” said Falynn. “That’s all I’m gonna say.”

“Not good enough.”

Falynn lunged forward, grabbing Olivia’s face in one hand, her cigarette still in the other. Her nails dug white tracks down Olivia’s cheek.

“Get back to your man before these nails leave marks that don’t go away,” she hissed. “And if these nails don’t do it… maybe this cigarette will.” She brought the end of the cigarette dangerously close to Olivia’s eyeball.

Falynn flashed demonic smile and Olivia jumped about three feet back. Olivia turned back toward the door, and Falynn laughed and laughed.

“Seneka was the peacekeeper in Sequoia Grove, my dear!” Falynn laughed. “No one can save you now!”

Olivia dropped her purse on the kitchen table and grabbed a beer out of the fridge, wondering if coming home to 912 after work would ever feel normal.

Everyone was home. Stone, Ace, Wildcard, and Mixer, all watching a movie in depressed little piles on the living room floor. She’d never seen them so motionless.

“If you guys are all here, who’s working at the club?” Olivia asked, taking a swig.

“Club’s still closed,” Stone said, expressionless.

“If the club is still closed,” Olivia frowned, “where’s Hero?”

Tires screeched across the sidewalk, but Olivia couldn’t see Hero’s familiar headlights striping the black night out the front windows. She thumped the beer on the counter with a cold thud, darted back the door to take a look, and there he was. His front left headlight was busted.

“Hero!?”

He got out of the car, a bit worn out and shaken, his feet moving him forward with the strength and purpose of a ventriloquist’s dummy. As he came into the light, Olivia saw blood on his shirt.

“Hero, what happened?”

He hobbled past her and made an immediate try for the stairs. She closed the door behind them and grabbed his shirt.

“Wait—what—” As she pulled on the shirt, she noticed wear in the material, the soaking sensation of sweat, and more dried remains of blood.

“I need to take a shower,” he said. “I’ll explain later.”

“What, so you can get a minute to come up with a good lie!?” Olivia shouted. “What did you do? What’s going on?”

He shook free of her, but she chased him into their bedroom.

“O, what do you want me to tell you?” He pulled down on his shirt, displaying it to her. “Obviously, somebody got hurt tonight.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? What, you just picked somebody to have a fight with!?”

“Something like that.”

“Are you insane?”

He quoted her. “It’s possible.” He stripped his clothes and headed for the shower.

Olivia stared at him as he rinsed the remains of blood from his body. She watched steam stack onto the glass door, and then looked down at the clothes.

“Do I have to burn these?”

“Probably a good idea.”

In a fervent, fiery range, she pulled the shower door open, faced his wet naked frame, and gave him a swift upper cut to the groin. He buckled over and collapsed in pain.

“You are going to tell me what’s going on or I swear to God I’m digging my nails in next time.” She ignored her own embarrassment at ripping off Falynn’s threat.

He writhed in agony, attempting catch his breath.

 “What did you do?”

Hero reached up and turned the water off. “I killed somebody, alright? I saw a black Toyota, looked just like the one from the drive by. I rammed him, I questioned him, and he didn’t say shit, so I blew him away.”

Olivia reserved judgment without further intel. “Was he the guy?”

“Didn’t you fucking listen? He didn’t say shit!”

“So you blew him away just because he drove a black Toyota!? Do you know how many Toyotas there are in Monarch Hills!?”

She lifted her foot to give him another impact to his testes, he grabbed her foot, twisted her ankle, and forced her to fall on top of him.  He held her down with his arm across her shoulders.

“Will you calm the fuck down?” he growled. “This shit ain’t helping anything.”

“You killed somebody.”

“I realize that. I realize I fucked up, and I want to stop fucking up right now.” He squeezed her tighter, his jaw on her shoulder. “I set my mind tonight, and I have to tell you something and if you don’t stop acting like a dumb crazy bitch, I’m not gonna get this shit over with.”

Olivia took a breath. “Okay. Fine. What now?” She tried to move into a comfortable position, but it was impossible given the circumstances. Especially considering Hero’s ill-placed silence.

Hero held her tighter. “Will you stop fucking fidgeting?”

“Shut the hell up! I have no idea what you’re about to say. You might be on a murderous rampage, about to strangle me or something. Forgive me if I’m less than at ease.”

He pulled her hair back, placing his mouth right next to her ear. “One. Two. Five. Five. Three. Two. Eight.”

Olivia froze. “Wait. Let me write that down—”

He pulled her back, still by the hair. “No, no, no, you ain’t gonna write shit down. You a smart girl, memorize it. One, two.”

“One, two.”

“One, two, five, five.”

“One, two, five, five.”

“One, two, five, five, three, two, eight. Now say it.”

“One, two, five, five, three, two, eight. Got it.”

“Good.” He shoved her off. “Now get the fuck off me so I can wash this blood off.”

Olivia rose to her feet, exiting the bathroom and looked back at him for a bit, repeatedly in short jolted jerks, trying to decide if there was anything else she needed to say. There wasn’t. She knew the combination now. Now, there was no turning back.

“Wait.” Hero dipped his head, letting the water drench the back of his head.

Olivia stood perfectly still as if one wrong word would make her lose the trust she had just earned.

“I gotta make a couple calls, but uh… tell the boys meeting at Lanka in one hour. That’s sixty minutes, not a fucking minute later, feel me?”

Olivia nodded and rushed out to give the news.

Every Blade that Olivia had ever met was seated down the VIP lounge. Even the flowers were there. It was weird to see the place so empty, so frigid, so dusty. With the lights full on, she could see the streaks that stripper heels had left on the glossy stage. The silence from this crowd put more weight into the somber atmosphere; even Cojack was dead quiet.

Olivia sat on the other side of the tables, watching Hero as he stood at the end, arms outstretched, his weight on his palms. He looked straight down, almost ashamed. “I made a decision today.”

A silent shock rippled through the rows. They didn’t need to make a sound, it was felt. It was like everyone wasn’t sure his next move wouldn’t be pumping them all full of bullets.

“Recent events have made it clear to me that my safety may be…” He twisted his face a little. “In question. Therefore the assets of the crew must be accessible by some other means.” He took an embarrassed breath. “I have given someone else the combination to the safe in my home.” He said it firmly, but rather quietly.

“Who!?” Stone shouted.

Hero looked up. “I’m getting to that. Calm your ass down.”

Stone looked away.

“I gave the combination to someone I trust,” he said. “The person who has the combination…” He scanned the rows. “Is in this room.”

Ace choked out a laugh. “What, is this a game of fucking Clue? Is this shit Clue!? What are you, Tim Curry now!? You a butler? Do you buttle?”

Mixer elbowed him. “Come on, man! Listen to ‘im!”

“For the safety of the person who has it, I ain’t gonna reveal who it is,” said Hero. “But out of fairness to the Blades, I gotta let you know what’s going on. So that’s what this meeting’s all about.”

“With all due respect, hy’ung, what the fuck!?” spat Stone. “This whole thing makes the system fall apart. What if shit gets taken? No one’s going to know who the thief is.”

Hero looked Stone in the eye. “I will. And in such a case, you will soon after.”

“Not if you’re dead,” corrected Stone.

Wildcard smirked. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and assume Stone ain’t the guy with the digits.”

Mixer’s mouth formed a circle. “Ooh, or maybe he does got the combination, and this is like some elaborate trick to convince us he don’t got it, but through the arguin’ they still educatin’ us on the situation at hand. Clever shit.”

Hero glared at him. “Will you stop playing Clue and focus?”

Mixer sank into his chair with a pout. “Clue’s a great game, hy’ung. Fun for the whole family.”

“Seriously, though,” said Ace. “If you’re dead—”

“In the event of my death it is the responsibility of the person with the combination to come forward.”

Ace raised his brow and stated the obvious. “But what if he doesn’t?”

“They will.”

And that must have been what tipped off Stone. Hero’s use of the word ‘they.’ Not ‘he,’ but ‘they.’ Stone’s eyes went straight to Olivia.

“And that’s it,” said Hero. “Business as usual, only now y’all know there is a back-up plan in place. So unless there are any questions—”

“I got some fucking questions,” said Wildcard. “What about Seneka!? When are we gonna find her killer and put him down!?”

“I got a freelancer on the case,” said Hero. “The Shank.”

There was a big gasp, leading to vibrant undulation of gossip and murmurs.

Olivia turned to Mixer. “Who’s the shank?”

Mixer leaned toward her for mischievous commentary. “Ace said one time he saw the Shank eat a baby,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

“Hey,” said Ace. “I never said it was a baby. I said it kinda looked like a baby. Fuck, it could’ve been chicken, I don’t fuckin’ know.”

“Still,” said Mixer. “This is the type of dude who could be eating a chicken but you think it might be a baby.”

“Children!” shouted Hero. “Enough of this sewing circle bullshit. Get the fuck out of here and make some goddamn money.”

Olivia sat still, listening to the shuffling of feet, screeching of chair legs, and non-English conversations sewn into a fuzzy fabric of heavy breaths. Hero didn’t move either, just leaned over, hands on the table, not watching anyone leave. His eyes were closed.

Olivia tried to make a comforting face. “Are you okay?”

Hero lifted his chin and gave her a big, heavy, angry glare. “Why are you still here?”

“I don’t have any money to make, I’m not a prostitute. Besides, you drove me here.” She smiled. “I’m really proud of you.”

“Fuck off.”

She laughed. “I repeat. You drove me here.” She should’ve known such a condescending comment was bound to piss him off.

He sat down, fell into a pile of Hero, head leaning back, facing the ceiling. “What the fuck are you ‘proud of me’ for?”

Her smile was warm and genuine as she slinked over to him, taking a seat by his side. “You were wrong about some stuff, people got hurt, and as a leader it’s embarrassing for you.” Olivia frowned. “Speaking of you being wrong about shit, any word on Crash?”

“No,” said Hero. “What, do you think he’s involved in what happened to Seneka?”

“Maybe. I mean, of course. Don’t you?”

He held her hand. “I feel like I don’t know what’s going on any more. Like something’s coming, something I can’t see coming.” He shook his head with disbelief. “I haven’t felt like that in a long time.”

“If I see it first, I’ll let you know.”

He frowned and didn’t look at her. “I know.” He looked back at her face. “I know you will. Maybe that’s why I love you so much. Come here.”

He pulled her close and kissed her, but she had a knot in her stomach. She had said it once before, but for some reason she felt like she was keeping something vital to herself, something Hero was incapable of seeing himself.

The shooter was aiming for Seneka. Not Hero. Maybe giving Olivia the combination was a miscalculation.

Olivia’s heels were cutting into her skin as she crossed the tiled floor of the train station, the cool night air licking her bare shoulders and making her shiver. It wasn’t a cold night, but the chill in her spine was present nonetheless. She took a seat on the grated, metal bench, clutching her purse tightly, looking for  quiet place in her mind where she could enjoy her wait for the train. Red line, blue line. Now she didn’t have a choice.

Swift headlights appeared from the road across the way. She turned her head, surprised and pensive as the car came to a stop. She recognized the Escalade.

Stone rolled down the window. “Hey! Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

Olivia smiled, stood up, and headed his way.

The inside of the car smelled weird. She couldn’t place the smell, but it through her off a little. “Hey, fancy seeing you here.”

“I was in the area, thought I may as well come get you. How was work?”

They attempted small talk as he made his way into the road.

“What were you doing in the area?” asked Olivia.

He frowned. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

She frowned. “Sorry, didn’t think it was that personal a question.” The smell started to get to her. It wasn’t a rotten smell, nothing like garbage, and yet it made her stomach turn.

“I mean what are you trying to do?” asked Stone. “Gather some more fucking intel? You in spy mode again, O? What, you think I’m pulling shit on Hero too? I ain’t Crash. Shit, O, is that what you think? I’m fuckin’ Crash now?”

Olivia stiffened tighter, feeling something cold and glass slide down to her feet. She looked down. A liquor bottle. She turned her face back to Stone.

“Answer the fucking question!” shouted Stone. “Is that what you think!?”

The smell was his breath.

“So when did he give it to you?” asked Stone.

“Give me what?”

“The combination, O! How long have you had it!?”

“What!?” Her spine spiked erect. “Hero and I barely know each other, why would he give it to me?”

“Good fucking question.” His hands were unsteady. The steering wheel wobbled. “Don’t bullshit, O, you ain’t the only one in the Grove that can sniff out a lie. I’m good with that shit too. That used to be my job.” His mouth twisted into a knot. “Why was it you? Huh!? What was wrong with me!? I’ve been there since we was kids, and then you come out of nowhere, and—”

Stone swerved into another lane, shoving a honking car aside. Olivia made a grab for the wheel, but Stone swatted her hand away.

“I’m driving, bitch, get the fuck off,” said Stone. “Do you love him?”

“Yes, I love him, now will you please pull over and let me drive? You can’t drive like this, it’s dangerous.”

“Not as dangerous as telling me a lie,” said Stone. “I know when people lie, you just need to see someone lie to you once, and then you know. They give signs. You can see it in their eyes.” He looked in her eyes.

“Don’t look in my eyes, Stone. Look at the road.”

“Tell me you the queen of France.”

“What!?”

“I want to hear you tell me a lie! Now tell me you the queen of France!”

“Stone! Watch the road!”

Stone’s face went aflame, his eyes bloodshot, his arms tight. He lifted his hands off the wheel, and slammed them back harder, jerked the wheel to the side, and flew against oncoming traffic.

“Stone!!”

He swerved left, he swerved right, he dodged headlights, all the while a conductor of a symphony of tire screeches and horns.

“Tell me you the queen of France!”

“This is ridiculous—you’re gonna kill us!”

Stone zoomed passed the side of a semi, inches away from fatal impact.

“This the way you wanna die!?” Stone cried. “’Cause you couldn’t tell an Asian thug some dumb shit like you the queen of France!?”

Three cars in a tight row. A truck and two sedans, dead ahead. Nowhere to go. The world went in slow motion.

“I’m the queen of France!” Olivia cried. “I’m the queen of France! I’m the queen of France! Now pull off the road! Now!”

Stone jerked the wheel aside, pushing them into a patch of grass. Every surface of Olivia’s skin felt numb, empty, like she was floating in her chair. She didn’t notice her hands were tensed until she finally tilted her head and saw them. Her fingers were bent at every joint, making her hands looked demented and evil, like a dead monkey paw from the famous story. Stone got out of the car, swung drunkenly to her side, opened her door. He grabbed Olivia by the shirt and pulled her onto the ground. Before she could unfurl her body from the knot she had fallen as, he got his gun out of the glove box and pointed it straight at her head.

“Do you love Hero?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Do you have the safe combination?”

Her jaw trembled. This was it. She was going to die. This was over. Mom was right. Big mistake. Flashes of regrets. “No.” She closed her eyes tight, tears nestling in her lashes. “No, I don’t.” Goodbye, cruel world.

But she wasn’t dead. No pop, no gunfire, no finale. He put the gun down.

“I, uh…” He sniffled and wiped his nose. “I think you better drive, I’m a little drunk. I think.” He stepped around her to the passenger door. “Come on, let’s go.”

Olivia stayed on the ground for a second, eyes wet, heart pounding, mouth wide open, stealing breath. She’d made it out alive, but she was lucky. Stone knew. He had to know. She was the queen of France, and Stone knew what her words sounded like when they were lies.



Chapter 15

Olivia was suddenly restless. It was a warm, beep-free night in Hero’s arms and the soft blanket of sleep had long since washed over the cluttered household.  Hero was stroking Olivia’s hair. She wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep or how long he had been touching her hair, and she was even less sure how long she was supposed lie there pretending to be asleep before she made a move. She decided not long, and sat up.

“What are you doing?”

“Sorry.” He spoke in a low, sleepy groan. “Did I wake you up?”

“Is this what you’re gonna do? I’m gonna lay here asleep and you’re just gonna stroke my hair?”

“Is that a problem for you?”

“Where are the smartass remarks? The hateful jabs? The spiteful sentiments?”

He looked aside. “Uhh… you’re a bitch?”

 “Christ, is that all you got?” She fell back into bed with a defeated sigh. “Why are you being so nice to me all the sudden?”

He shrugged. “I’m happy.” He started touching her again. “You look like a little bunny when you’re sleeping.”

“Okay, this is just getting weird now.”

He pulled his arm back. “Look, bitch, if you want a shitty relationship, pack up your shit and get the fuck out of here, I don’t need any drama queen bullshit in this house.”

She smiled. “That’s better.” She kissed his forehead. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he grunted, turning away. “And stop stealing the damn blanket. Sleeping next to your frigid ass is cold enough.”

She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

“Psst. Olivia.”

Olivia stirred, but Hero was fast asleep. She tried to shake off the moment of confusion, not sure where the whispering voice was coming from.

“Pssssst! Olivia!”

Olivia looked toward the blurry glow around the bedroom door until her sleepy eyes gave her clearance to recognize shape. It was Mixer. He didn’t speak further, he just gestured to her to get up. She did, and followed him down the hall and into the bathroom.

“Mixer, what’s going on?”

He looked in the mirror and tugged on his hair. His pupils were dilated.

“Mixer, are you high?” asked Olivia, stepping gingerly toward him. “You okay?”

He reached forward, took something into his hands, and turned around and faced her. He took her hand, and put the object into it. It was a pair of drug store sheers. She wrapped her fingers around the scissors and gently lifted her head, waiting for a cue from the emotional, drugged boy in front of her

“Olivia,” he said, sniffling slightly. His eyes were red. “Will you cut my hair?”

She laughed a little and tightened her grip around the handle. “Sure.” She ran her fingers through his hair with a comforting smile. “Sit down. Grab a towel and put it around your shoulders.”

Olivia sat with her legs crossed, her nearly bared ass heating Hero’s thigh. She gently sipped on her apple soju as Ace and Cojack were laughing and carrying on between drinks, the meat of their exchange barely hanging onto a hard bone of unintelligible, ghetto vernacular.

Wildcard, who had apparently enjoyed a generous serving of liquor along with Seneka’s last stage, fell into the VIP lounge with a grandiose thud, collapsing into a drunk pile right in the middle of Cojack’s personal space.

 “What it is, nigga.” Wildcard grabbed Cojack’s hand.

“Fuck you, you know I don’t like you callin’ me nigga.” Cojack pulled his hand back.

“Shit, nigga, don’t trip on what you is,” smirked Wildcard. “Where the soju at?”

Mixer started to pour him some, but Hero gently places his hand in Mixer’s way. Wildcard had clearly had enough tonight.

“Anyway,” said Cojack. “Like I was saying, Tyrone had a crowbar ready when Ray-Ray was comin’ down the stairs, so we was ready to take him out. Tyrone swung at his legs, so then that motherfucker hit the ground, and I went buck wild on that bitch ass nigga, and Tyrone told ‘im ‘fuck you nigga, leave Tashawnda alone!’”

“That dumb nigga’s beatin’ on Tashawnda?” Wildcard said. “Shit, man, that nigga’s fucked up.” He shook his head. “If he had a daddy, maybe he’d know how to be a man. Shit, sometimes I think I’m the only nigga from 8th Block who got a daddy! Maybe that’s why I’m good to my woman.”

Cojack stared at Wildcard, cutting a deep silence into VIP.

Wildcard looked up with baffled innocence. “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what?’” asked Cojack. “Only nigga from 8th Block who what, bitch?”

“Bitch, you know I’m just playin’—”

“Bitch-ass chink-ass muh-fucker, shut the fuck up—You are Asian!” snapped Cojack. “Act like a goddamn Asian!”

“Well you a man, why don’t you act like that?”

A well-deserved ‘ooh’ reverberated through room.

“You disrespectin’ me now?” said Cojack. “I earned my keep with you and all y’all fuckin’ dog-eatin’ muh-fuckers, I didn’t come here to be called no nigga.”

“But that’s what you are,” bellowed Wildcard. “You a dumbass nigga.”

“Call me a nigga again, you fuckin’ chink!”

“Don’t call me a chink!”

“You are a chink. You a slanty-eyed rice-eatin’ chink.”

Olivia snickered.

“Did that bitch just laugh at me?” snapped Cojack, eyeing Hero.

Wildcard shoved Cojack. “Don’t call her a bitch, ya dumb nigga!”

Ace rolled his eyes. “Wildcard, stop being an asshole—”

“I’m the asshole?” asked Wildcard, his eyes begging. “He’s the asshole! He called Hero’s woman a bitch!”

Cojack pointed to himself. “Oh, so I’m an asshole now?”

“Come on…” Mixer stood up and opened his arms, palms forward. “Does it really matter who the asshole is?”

Cojack scoffed. “I didn’t ask you, sit yo’ chinky ass down.”

Mixer pointed at the redhead. “I thought Dub C was the chink.”

“Dub C is a fuckin’ chink and you a fuckin’ chink too.”

“Will you please refrain from calling my boys chinks?” Hero groaned, placing his brow in his hand.

“Fine,” snapped Cojack. “How about gooks? Rice niggas? Zipperheads?”

Olivia kept laughing.

“That bitch is still laughing,” hissed Cojack. “You find something funny, miss thang?”

“Sorry,” said Olivia, raising her hand to her mouth. “I just think I got lost. Who’s the asshole again?”

“Cojack’s the asshole,” said Wildcard. “And a dumb nigga.”

Ace stood up. “Enough!” He faced the table, pointing at them all one by one. “Cojack’s a nigga, Wildcard and Mixer are both chinks, Olivia’s a bitch, and we’re all assholes!” He sat back down. “Except Mixer. Mixer’s a pretty nice guy.”

Mixer smiled. “Thanks hy’ung!”

“No problem.”

Hero turned toward Ace. “Ace, don’t call my woman a bitch.”

Ace didn’t even turn his head. “Eat my ass. Olivia is a bitch.”

Olivia frowned.

“What?” asked Ace, eyes wide. “I love you to death, baby girl, but you are kind of a bitch.”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Hero. “Nobody calls me woman a bitch but me.” He looked at Olivia. “Ain’t that right, bitch?”

Olivia nodded. “That’s right.”

Wildcard pouted. “Can I still call Cojack a dumb nigga?”

Hero leaned back weakly and sighed. “Cojack. Wildcard. Get the fuck out of here.”

“But hy’ung—”

“Get. Out.”

Grumpy and irritated, they did, bickering the whole way out.

“Yo, Mixer.” Hero nodded to the youngest. “What’s up with the hair?”

Mixer sparkled. “Olivia cut it last night.”

Hero looked back at Olivia. He smiled. “Good job.”

She smiled distantly with a slight blush to her cheeks. “Thanks.”

“What’s the matter with you?” He stroked her shoulder. “You alright?”

“I’m fine.”

She clearly wasn’t. Hero pouted. “You worried about something, chag’ya?”

“You mean besides the whole just-moved-out-of-my-parents-house-to-live-with-Asian-gangsters thing? Nothing, I’m peachy.”

“You ain’t gotta be scared of shit, you know we got you,” said Ace.

“You won’t ‘have me’ if you guys all get arrested,” said Olivia. “You’re still criminals.”

Hero laughed. “We own the cops.”

“Yeah, I know, you say that but—”

“Seriously. Chag’ya. We own the cops. I’ll prove it. Call 911.”

“What?”

“Here.” Hero handed her his phone. “Use my phone, even. Call 911 and tell them… tell them I’m raping you.”

Olivia looked to Ace and Mixer. They didn’t budge.

“Tell them what!?”

“Call them. Tell them Hero Vem is raping you at Club Lanka.”

She grasped the phone, giving the VIP room another look over. Still, no one flinched.

She shrugged. “Alright…” Olivia called.

With her best distressed voice, she whined and pleaded with the operator. She said Hero Vem had raped her, she had stolen his phone in the scuffle, and she was trapped in a room at Club Lanka. She was asked to calm down, as expected, and that someone would be there soon. The most reaction she got out of the Blades was a couple light snickers. She hung up the phone.

“Hero, this isn’t funny,” she said. “Cops are going to come. There are no cops on earth that won’t respond to a call like that.”

“I never said they wouldn’t respond,” said Hero.

Olivia’s eyes bugged out. “Hero, you—”

Hero lifted his finger. “Shh. Wait for it.”

Ace and Mixer sat silently in waiting. Five, four, three…

Ace’s phone buzzed. Hero indicated to everyone to stay quiet as he grabbed Ace’s phone and hit the speaker button.

“’Sup Officer Jensen? It’s Hero.”

A quiet voice emerged on the speaker. “…Hero?”

“Yessir?”

Mixer held in a sharp giggle. A long awkward pause took its toll on VIP.

“Hero…” said Officer Jensen, voice lowering into a grave hiss. “…what the fuck you doing, man!?”

Ace, Hero, and Mixer burst into hysterics.

“Oh, ha ha, very funny, you piece of shit!” cried Officer Jensen. “You scared the shit out of me! I’m sitting here thinking Hero Vem has lost is goddamn mind, raping women—what the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“Did your wife get her birthday present?” Hero smirked.

“Yes, my wife got her birthday present, asshole, and if you send her any more goddamn jewelry I’m gonna start asking some fucking questions.”

“Why? I taught her that thing you like.”

“If you taught my wife anything, you taught her not to listen to a goddamn thing I say. Fuck. You. You hear that!? Fuck. You.”

“Fuck you too. Have a good night.”

Click.

As Ace and Mixer laughed and laughed, Hero leaned over to Olivia. “See? I’m the law down here. Don’t worry.”

A little while after the giggles subsided, Hero got a call from Stone. Hero answered, and as Stone spoke, the joyous glow in Hero’s eyes fled the scene. His face read half confused, half worried. He hung up.

“Come on, O, we gotta go back to the office.”

“Why?”

“Seneka wants to have a word with us. Stone says it seems important.”

“Both of us?” Olivia asked. Now the confusion in his face made more sense.

Olivia followed Hero up the dark stairway. She could see Seneka waiting in the room down the hall, shoulders forward, arms crossed, and Stone nodded at Hero as he passed down the hall.

“Hold up, lemme talk to your girl for a minute,” said Stone. “She’ll be right in.”

Hero nodded and closed the door behind him when he got in the office.

“Why does everybody want to talk to me all of the sudden?” said Olivia.

Stone held out his hand. Olivia took it. Once he had her, he pulled her body close and gave her a big, tight, manly hug.

“Um,” gulped Olivia. “Right, uhh, okay—”

He pat her back. “Thank you.” She could feel his breath over her shoulder. “Thanks for bringing my boy back to life.”

She laughed. “Wow. You really are kind of a girl for a gangster.”

Stone let go and gave her a warm smile. “And you’re kind of a gangster for a girl.” He was still glowing, gold and shiny, as he made his way down the stairs.

Olivia walked through the office door and straight into a heated argument.

“Absolutely not, and that’s final!” Hero shouted. Olivia shut the door behind her.

Seneka rushed to Olivia, face flushed and desperate. “Tell him to give you the safe combination.”

“Whoa, what?”

“Tell him!” said Seneka. “If not for me, for Pansy and that little girl!”

“You’re talking like Death himself is waiting for me around the corner!” said Hero. “It’s fine. The streets are safe, safer than they ever been before, there ain’t no reason for all this shit.”

“It’s safe now, but who knows what could happen!?” said Seneka. “If something happens to you, what are we gonna do? Lug that safe around like them fools with the ATM in Barber Shop? Use your brain, Hero!”

“I am, and I ain’t gonna burden my girl with the safe combination, period!” said Hero. “Now will you get the fuck out of here and make some goddamn money?”

Seneka rolled her eyes and gave Olivia one more hopeful glance. “Talk to him. I know you know what he’s gotta do.” She left.

Hero didn’t look up. “Don’t even try it.”

“She’s right,” said Olivia. “It’s not safe for you to be the only one who can get to the money. You’re not as invincible as you think you are.”

“There ain’t no goddamn reason to think anything’s gonna happen to me!” insisted Hero.

“What the hell do I have to do to get you to trust me?”

“This has nothing to do with trust! I do trust you. I trust you with my life.”

She shook her head. “This is all about power and dominance. You won’t share any power with anyone will you?”

“This has nothing to do with power either!” he snapped. “That combination ain’t my power, chag’ya. It’s my burden, and I can’t share that burden with you. Having one person with that combination is for the protection of the crew. If the safe got opened and shit went missing, the boys know who to blame. If we all knew the combination and shit got stolen, shit would get fucking chaotic fast.”

“Nothing that you’re saying is of any consequence unless you think I might steal, but I won’t. Look at me.” He did. “If, God forbid, something were to happen to you, someone needs to be able to get into that safe. I know that having this responsibility alone is hard on you, but you don’t need to be alone with it. You need someone to carry it with you. You need to trust someone. I can be that person for you.”

Hero took a breath. “Sorry. My answer is no, and that’s that.”

Last call. Closing time. Cars were trickling out of the parking lot, and the crew and the flowers were congregating arond the front patio for their last round of cigarettes. Wildcard’s head lay against the grating of the table as a solid rod of ash crept to the butt of his cigarette.

“You fuckin’ drunk,” muttered Seneka. “Yo Ace, can I bum a square?”

Ace passed her one, but Pansy threw herself forward, knocking the cigarette onto the pavement.

“What the hell is the matter with you!?” cried Ace.

“Seneka can’t smoke!” Pansy cried.

Seneka gave Pansy a wicked glare, throwing Pansy’s eyes to the ground.

Ace raised an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

“Because,” Pansy gulped. “It’s bad for your health.”

Ace eyed the glowing end of her lit cigarette. “That ain’t stopping you.”

“It’s okay,” Seneka said. “I can do without, no big deal.”

“Yeah, but now you got me all curious,” said Ace, looking at Pansy. “Why you trippin’ over it like that?”

“Yeah,” frowned Mixer. “Let the girl have a smoke. She’s had a long night of work, she earned it.”

“Seriously, boys,” said Seneka. “I don’t want it no more.”

Ace looked back at Pansy. “Still, I just wanna know why—”

Pansy looked up. “Because it’s bad for the baby!”

Wildcard’s head flew upright with the imprint of the table on his cheek, and the rest of the crew was motionless. He looked at all of their faces, waiting for the laughter to start. It didn’t come.

“Is…” a very drunk Wildcard choked. “Is this a joke?”

Everyone looked at each other, searching for a verbal rim shot. None. Pansy’s eyes were pointed straight toward the street.

“Is…” Wildcard whispered. He looked at Seneka. “Is it m…” He pointed at himself.

“Oh, please, Wildcard. Don’t insult me by asking if it’s yours.”

Hero jumped to his feet so quickly the chair fell backward. He forced his fingers through his hair and turned his back to the group, bowing his head as he approached the wall.

Every muscle in Seneka’s body was as tight and stiff as spooled wire, unable to bend from its position unless someone gave her a tough tug. They were all quiet as mice, watching Hero with eyes pinned open as if the choice to stare at him didn’t belong to them. Wildcard, meanwhile, stared at nothing. Just forward.

Seneka gulped. My brother… is going… to kill him.

Hero stood still for a good five seconds, silent and reaction free. His head tilted forward, his back becoming an arched lump as he formed a fist and tapped it against the wall. Tap. Tap. Not a punch, just a tap. The lump of his back expanded and contracted with each of his deep, heaving breaths. In, out. In, out. In… and out.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he straightened himself and they watched his elbows bend and his hands reach his mouth. His back was still as his hands did this, and none of them knew what to expect when he turned around, if he would turn around at all. After another few solid, still seconds, he turned swiftly to face them.

His hands may have covered his mouth, but they could see his eyes were smiling. His eyes were smiling slits, glistening with tears and what appeared to be overpowering rapture. His joy illuminated his entire stance and full demeanor. Finally, his hands lowered to reveal the intense grin beneath. And he spoke in a weak, joy-choked tone.

“Congratulations.”

And Wildcard threw up.

Seneka ran toward her brother and gave him a huge hug, tears in her eyes. “Thank you. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how I was gonna tell you, I just…”

Hero pat his sister’s back. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be a great mom.”

Seneka was weeping. “Thank you, Hi’luh. Thank you!”

Once the celebrating was done with, everyone began to make their way to their cars. Seneka looked back at her brother with a proud, tear soaked smile.

“You don’t need to be so scared of me,” said Hero. “I just want you to be happy. I love you.”

“I know,” she smiled with a sniffle. “I love you too.”

After the screech of oncoming tires and roaring pop of a close-range gunshot, Hero watched his sister’s head fall apart across the asphalt.



Chapter 14

As Seneka glanced over the box of her Early Result Pregnancy Test, she wondered how long Wildcard had to live. Perhaps, if her elder brother was in one of his more benevolent moods, he’d give Dub C a good fifteen minute head start before he hurled after him with guns blazing, but still, her boyfriend’s days were most definitely numbered. For now, she decided to focus her worries on the present. She looked at the tiny cardboard box. Here we go, you little fuckin’ thing. It’s me versus you now.

The world went into late night TV slow motion as she opened it, revealing folded paper instruction and the encased stick of doom. It was hard to believe that the decoder of the most life-changing mystery she had ever encountered was in that benign, protective foil pouch. She pulled out the instructions first.

Hold test stick by thumb grip. Okay, sure.

Point absorbent tip downward in urine stream for five seconds only. Five seconds. In bold and italics—they were serious about this. Five seconds, you dumb bitch. You couldn’t keep your legs closed, so it’s clear you don’t follow advice very well. We mean it. Five motherfucking seconds.

If you prefer, urinate into a clean, dry cup and dip the entire absorbent tip into the cup for twenty seconds. Seneka laughed. Are there girls who just can’t handle peeing on stuff?

Replace cap and lay on flat surface with result window facing up. This was instruction she needed. She didn’t want to put that thing down face up one bit—she wanted to avoid looking at that tiny white screen for as long as possible.

You can read your results after two minutes. Two minutes also in bold. A blue line in the Control Window and a blue line in the Result Window indicate a positive result. Noted. A blue line in the Control Window and no line in the Result Window indicate a negative result. Also noted.

Seneka wanted to slap all those girls in the commercials who complain that generic pregnancy tests weren’t clear. Come on. How dumb were those bitches?

Another instruction made her laugh. DO NOT read result after ten minutes. DO NOT in bold caps. She giggled and pictured someone in person warning her. Seriously. Don’t do it. Your brain will explode, mountains will crumble into the sea, and the space time continuum will reverse itself if you dare look at the Result Window after the ten minute mark.

She gulped, and she peed. She peed on the stick. Now for those five seconds. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Five seconds.

Okay, she followed instructions and now she could read the results in two minutes. Two minutes. She lifted up the stick and closed her eyes tight. Two minutes.

Two minutes? Fuck that, she was looking. Her eyes opened and her heart stopped. One line. No, two lines. Two clear solid lines. Positive.

“Oh, fuck.” She trembled. “Oh, fuck me.”

No point in waiting for two minutes now. It wasn’t like the line in the Result Window was going to go away.

She dropped the test and the box into the waste basket. She tried to get up, but she ended up collapsing into the tub, a hundred-pound pile of cute little Asian stripper, trying to figure out what the hell she was going to do. Seneka didn’t know much about raising kids, but she was pretty confident that her drug-dealing, gun-slinging brothers and the Blades crew didn’t exactly offer an optimal child-rearing environment. However, there was someone else who knew a hell of a lot more about raising a kid in this fucked up city than she did.

Beep.

Olivia woke with what felt like an adrenaline shot to the chest, drenched in sweat, clutching the sheets with a spiking uproar rushing through her torso. She felt the aftershock of what she believed to be a forgotten nightmare, twisting her senses and breaking her composure, but the nightmare was real. She was here, here at 912 Branden, and she was here to stay. Her suitcases still lay open on the floor, next to the panties that Hero had pulled off her the night before in a fit of victorious passion, and her inner thighs were still sore from the consummation of their redefined unity.

The morning sunlight flooded into the 912 kitchen, and Hero was cracking eggs. The sound of bacon sizzling on the pan sang in harmony with Hero’s joyous whistling, and his four roommates stood back, watching in silent horror.

“He’s so…” whispered Ace.

“…happy,” punctuated Stone.

Mixer clung onto Wildcard. “I’m scared!”

Wildcard shoved the kid off of him as Olivia joined the perplexed posse. Hero called her over and gave her a kiss, which she welcomed with a knot in her stomach.

Mixer’s head panned toward Olivia with sluggish speed. “What did you do to him!?”

Stone frowned. Perhaps Olivia’s presence should have somewhat alleviated the mystery behind Hero’s sudden reverie, but it didn’t at all. In fact, it compounded the confusion—they weren’t fighting.

“How do you like your eggs, chag’ya?” sparkled Hero.

“Scrambled, please.” She gave him three more nervous kisses.

Stoned wiped the sleepiness from his eye. “Okay, what the fuck is going on?”

Hero smiled at him. “Olivia’s living with us now.”

 “What!?” Stone was suddenly caffeinated by the news. “There’s already like a thousand people living here!”

“A thousand and one,” smiled Hero.

The boys took their seats around the table as Hero put their plates down. The next frown in the group cut itself into Wildcard’s brow.

“I’m glad you’re all happy and all, man, really, but don’t you think it’s a little soon for y’all to be—oh my God bacon!” Wildcard’s mouth was silenced by the insertion of greasy deliciousness.

Hero took his seat. “Where’s Seneka?”

“She took off,” said Wildcard, mouth full of bacon. “Doing girly shit with Pansy. I don’t know. Nails, hair, whatever the fuck bitches do.”

The boys braced themselves for Hero’s heavy hand of defiance to come crashing down on Wildcard’s stupid head, but Hero was busy smiling as Olivia scrunched her face into a little ball of a smile. He brushed a bit of food from the corner of her mouth.

“Hero,” said Wildcard. “Didn’t you hear me? I just called your sister a bitch.”

Hero looked over. “Huh?”

Ace put his hand over Wildcard’s mouth. “Uh… it’s just Tom is pissed at a snitch.”

Hero was blank.

 “Uhh—Disgusting to glitter a witch,” Mixer corrected

Stone looked up. “He just got the gist of his twitch?”

Wildcard pushed Ace’s hand out of the way. “There’s pus, cum, and piss and it itched!”

Hero’s face fell into an expressionless mask. “What the fuck are you guys on? Who the fuck is Tom—and I don’t want to hear shit about what’s itching, Dub C.” He stared. “Christ, y’all lost your damn minds?”

They said nothing, but Ace and Stone met each other with heavy, opinionated glances.

After breakfast, the boys dispersed and Hero started on the dishes, looking back at the porch with the sun glowing on his cheeks. He smiled at Olivia.

“O,” he said. “Let’s go outside.”

“Outside? Why?”

He leaned toward her. “Because it’s a beautiful day.” He took her hand. “Come on.”

He took her out through the back door, through the garden and toward the gazebo. Tiny shards of sunlight made their way to the surface of the hot tub, cutting slices of light across the gently drifting water. At first, Olivia looked down bashfully as he sat down next to Hero on the bench, but as she looked up at his face, she took a moment to absorb the image of it. His face was barely his at all. It was so flushed, so alive, so open. Just as the boys had said, he was just so happy. Olivia had no idea how to deal with a happy Hero.

“I see what you’re trying to do,” said Olivia. “It’s sweet, but it isn’t necessary.”

He put his arm around her. “I’m not trying to do anything but enjoy this beautiful sunny day with my chag’ya.”

“You’re trying to make a reference to the story I told you in your office that one time. Well played. It’s very romantic.”

He smiled. “You want romantic, I’ll show you romantic. Turn around.”

With a slight knot of fear in her belly, Olivia did. All she saw was a sea of lilies.

“Flowers are quite romantic, but I don’t see what you’re getting at.”

“Well maybe there’s something for you in those flowers.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “What, like a thousand bees?”

“Don’t be silly. Everything in this town is afraid of me and bees are no exception. Now go look. Remember what I said, sometimes something beautiful can come of nothing at all.”

Olivia gingerly made her way to flower bed and took a peek between the petals. There was a small, conspicuous white box. She looked back at Hero.

“You know, there are better ways to give me jewelry.”

“Jewelry my ass. I am way more inventive than that. Open the box.”

“Hero—”

“Will you just open the damn box so I can watch you squeal like a little girl?”

She took the box out of the flowers and opened it. It was a nine volt battery.

Hero stood behind her, put his arms around her waist, and kissed the side of her head. “Come on, let’s go put an end to that motherfucking beep. What do you say?”

She couldn’t move. She was stunned. She just watched him strut back to the door, looking back at her with that classic seductive smirk. “Come on.”

The smoke alarm was in the small entranceway that led into the garage. The most sinister and evil small, white, round, plastic mass on the planet Earth was about to be silenced. Silenced by that black and gold atomic bomb of victory that Olivia held in her grubby little hands. Hero set up the stepladder, and Olivia had a vice grip on her present.

He stepped onto the ladder. “Do you want to do it? Because I don’t want to take this moment away from you, I know you been waiting a good, long while.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” she said. “You do it.”

“You want to watch me do it?” He gave her another smirk and an eyebrow wiggle.

Olivia wanted to answer quickly, but she was overly conscious of the way she held her face. “Uhh… yes?”

“Okay, I’ll do it,” he smiled, stepping up the ladder. “All right smoke alarm, who’s your daddy?”

Beep. It was like the damn thing actually answered him.

“Fuckin’ Christ!” said Hero, jerking his face aside. “This fucker is loud when it’s in your face. Just for that, you gettin’ a spanking, smoke alarm!”

He tapped the side of it with a fake, angry face and pulled the battery tray open.

“Step one complete,” said Hero. “And now…” He held out his hand and Olivia handed him the new battery. He started to put it in its place, but stopped himself.

“Jesus, just do it!”

“I can’t just do it, chag’ya! Ain’t you ever heard of foreplay?” He suggestively pushed the battery in and out of the tray. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you smoke alarm?”

“Will you just put it in!?”

“Okay…” giggled Hero, twisting his face into a phony orgasm. “I’m putting it in… I’m putting it… you like that?” He made stupid moaning sounds as the battery slid into place. He closed the tray, stuck his tongue out, and hopped off the ladder with a joyous thump.

“There ya go, baby,” he said, sweeping her into his arms. “No more beep.” He kissed the side of her face. “That’s how much I love you, chag’ya. I even replace batteries for you!”

Olivia was ossified in his arms. She wondered how on Earth she slept through whatever Close Encounters shit had taken place last night. Certainly, an alien had taken over Hero’s body.

“Hold up.”

Olivia and Hero looked over to see a frowning, baffled Ace.

“As much as I hate to interrupt this cheesy-ass romance novel bullshit,” said Ace, “real fast, O, when time you gotta go to work?”

 “At one. Why?”

“’Cause I think it’s best, if you’re gonna be living here now, you should learn how to use that Sig. I’ll take you out somewhere, give you some gun training.”

Hero turned toward his brother, eyes piercing, holding up the bad battery. “You gonna what now?”

Ace looked at the battery. “You planning on hurting me with that?”

Hero put his hand down. “Why should Olivia go with you?”

Ace shrugged. “Because that’s what I do. I’m the gun guy. I always train people on guns. You hate teaching people shit. Kinda thought it was assumed I’d handle this.”

“But this is different,” said Hero.

“Why?”

“Fuck you! You know why.”

Olivia folded her arms. “What, you don’t trust me?” She had a joking tone, but she was a little genuinely offended.

Hero rolled his eyes. “Of course I trust you, it’s him I don’t trust.”

Ace stepped inward, launching a taunt. “I’ll show her how to work my pistol right, and then I’ll work your woman’s trigger ‘til she goes off.”

Olivia smirked. “Oh, Ace, you’re already turning me on.”

Ace threw his voice into a woman’s pitch. “Oh Ace, careful now, my safety’s off! Ooh!”

Hero pointed at both of them. “Fuck you, and fuck you, and don’t be gone long.”

Olivia and Ace drove a couple miles out of town to an abandoned field. It was funny, she had seen the spectrum from Sequoia Grove to Westcliff so many times, but she had never thought about what you see when you go sideways. Apparently nothing.

Ace set up their makeshift firing range. He set up one table near them for the gun and the rounds, and set up another table across the way. He lined the second table with jars and beer bottles.

Ace unloaded the case for Olivia’s new gun on the first table, giving her a clear view of the whole package. “Okay, this is a Sig Sauer Mosquito.” He turned the pistol so she could take a look at it. “You know what double action means?”

She shook her head.

“Okay, it’s like this,” he began, sucking in a deep breath. He pulled the clip out from the bottom. “This piece got a clip that holds twelve rounds. Pretty standard. Now when you load it, ya gotta make sure you hear the click, okay?” He popped it back into place.

“Okay,” she nodded

“Anyway, once you shoot, the slide will eject the round it’s already cocked and ready for the next shot. Here’s the safety.” He showed her. “Now when you got the safety off and this shit is loaded, don’t lose respect for what you got in your hand, all right?”

He held the gun out forward and explained what he was doing as he did it. “Now this ain’t a fuckin’ movie. Don’t turn the gun sideways and try to look all gangsta. And this shit too.” He bent his arm at the elbow, pointing the gun upward, a pose that reminded Olivia of just about every movie she had ever seen when the cop is creeping around a corner. “Don’t ever fucking hold a gun like this, it makes you vulnerable. You’re holding the gun but you ain’t firing yet? Point it to the ground. Like this.” He held his arms straight toward the ground.

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Now look at my hands,” he said, holding the gun forward with his left hand. “Grip at the knuckles, not at your fingertips. Now this should go without saying, but keep your finger away from the trigger until you ready to fire. It ain’t like you touch the thing ‘til you ready to pull, you don’t go near that shit ‘til it’s time, you feel me?”

She nodded again. “Okay.”

“Cup your palm under the grip like this with your left hand.”

She watched him do it and gulped.

“Okay, now you step back and watch what I’m doing.”

She watched him aim and fire and she nearly jumped out of her shoes. It was about ten times louder than she expected, but she still managed to observe the position of his body. She watched the rounds eject and disappear into the dried grass, and she watched his face tighten with every shot. His muscles stubbornly sustained their roles as the jerk of the gun challenged them. He took a breath as he slowly lowered the gun.

“Now this is real important. If you’re all panicked, you gonna miss your shot and you gotta make it count. Make sure you’re calm when you shooting, alright?”

She nodded. “Okay.”

He handed her the gun. “You got strong arms?”

“I think so.” She took it from him and held it awkwardly.

“A’ight. It’s a pretty light gun, you shouldn’t have problems, but… you know. Just asking anyway.”

He pressed the gun firmly into her right hand and she got tingly as he forced her fingers around the grip. “Remember, grip with your knuckles, not your fingertips.”

As her finger unconsciously drifted toward the trigger, he pulled it away. “No, no, no. Remember? Not ‘til you ready to fire. For now, put it here.” He pulled her finger to a new position. He took her left palm and cupped it under the grip and gently urged her to hold her hands forward. She tried to keep the gun up and hold it still, but she was trembling.

“You’re okay,” he whispered. “You’re doing great.”

She tried to focus on steadying the gun and eyeing that pile of broken glass across the field, but all she could think about was the warmth of Ace’s body behind her. All she could think about was the way his fingers felt as they rested gently on her forearms.

“Take in a deep breath,” he said. “Get comfortable with the way it feels in your hand, okay? Your arms tired?”

“Not really, no. But they keep shaking anyway.”

He affectionately touched each of her shoulders and whispered, “Just breathe.”

She did.

“Fire.”

She pulled the trigger, jumped a little as the bang rattled her eardrums, and watched a jar explode upon impact. Warmth emerged in the pit of her stomach and she lost some feeling in her face.

“Fuck!” Ace gasped. “Nice shot!”

“Thanks.”

“How did that feel?”

“It felt good.”

“Okay, try again,” he said. “This time part your legs a little bit. It’ll help your balance.”

She fired again, her lips twitching with excitement as another bottle popped into pieces. She sucked on her lips waiting for her next command to pull that trigger.

“Olivia…” Ace said, his voiced pinched with concern.

“Yeah?” She was still holding the gun happily.

“Is this turning you on?”

She lowered it. “What? No! Of course not!”

“Chag’ya, I’m tryin’ to teach you how to use a lethal firearm and you grinding on me like I’m talking dirty to you.”

“I am not!”

He took the gun from her hand. “You get off on this shit?”

“No! You’re the one who’s got your body all pressed against me, whispering and touching me.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Ah, so it ain’t the gun, it’s me that’s getting you all worked up?”

“Whoa, I didn’t mean it like that—”

Ace shook his head with amused disapproval. “You should have just let me think it was the gun.” He looked back at the bottles, then back at her. “You don’t shoot like someone who’s never shot before.”

“Maybe I’m talented.”

“Maybe you’re full of shit.”

Olivia turned. “What?”

Ace looked her in the eyes hard. “Olivia.” He paused for a second, studying her expression. “Be real with me. Are you fucking around on Hero?”

“What!?”

“Do you have some other fucking boyfriend up in Westcliff?”

“No!”

“Because if you do, we will find out about it, you feel me?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you. You show up out of nowhere, you’ve got my brother wrapped around your finger, and it’s fucking suspicious, square business.”

“Square business? What the hell does that even mean?”

“It means square business, chag’ya, this ain’t circle business—what do you think the Blades are, your goddamn merry-go-round? You can’t ride us all.”

“Why do you still call me chag’ya?”

“Because I called you chag’ya first.”

“Oh, I see what this is all about,” smirked Olivia. “Someone a little jealous?”

Ace looked down at the gun. “I ain’t gonna say this but one time, Olivia. You in good with us now, but if you fucking with us, that shit will come back on you tenfold.” He looked in her eyes as he emptied the clip.

Seneka wasn’t a big fan of returning to 8th Block. Too many bad memories. She let the cops at the front gate conduct their half-assed frisking with a certain amount of doubtful complacency, standing aside as they did a brief search of the car. These guys were not good at their jobs. There were enough guns and drugs in that building to fuel a full-fledged black market operation, and in fact, that’s just what was going down.

Driving to 8th always felt a bit like falling asleep. It took forever, like she would never get there, but then all of the sudden, there she was. The parking area where she was standing was technically once a courtyard, but that word felt far too sweet to describe what it had become. She looked at the walls that encased the space, lined with dull bricks and dreary windows. The torn edges of detached, forgotten drapes looked like dried tears.

When Seneka entered the building, she avoided eye contact with the tattered men in rags sitting on their milk cartons and boxes. Trash crowded the corners through the hallway, and the scent of excrement and urine dominated the stairwell. This part of the building had really gone to shit.

Seneka got to Pansy’s floor, and the toilet odor was suddenly lifted and replaced with jasmine and incense. The tattered walls were covered with tapestries and wall scrolls, brightening the hall, the colors flickering by lanterns and candlelight. The power was out, and there were no windows here but the distant fraction of one at the far end.

Pansy’s door had opened just in time. She stood there, her pouting lips painted and sweet, like two cherries on her face. Her small smile was just present enough to brighten the corners of her eyes. She rushed to her friend, and gave her a big, full, hug.

“Oh, ahn’ni,” said Pansy. Her perfume scent danced around Seneka’s nostrils. “What are you gonna do?”

Pansy invited Seneka to have a seat in the worn brown arm chair of her tiny, broken apartment. The gas was still working, so Pansy cooked a bowl of noodles and broth on her tiny, rusting stove as Kang’ju sat happily in the corner, playing with her toys in innocent, self-imposed seclusion. Seneka stared at a patch of missing carpet as she sipped her soup from its plastic bowl.

 “Did you ever think about abortion?” Seneka asked, lowering her bowl.

“Shh!” said Pansy, rinsing her dishes. She tilted her head toward her daughter. “She can hear you!”

“She don’t know what an abortion is,” said Seneka.

“Abortions kill babies,” said Kang’ju. She hit a button on her computer toy. “Five bananas!”

“If you wanted an abortion, you wouldn’t be here,” said Pansy, taking a seat in a stolen lawn chair. “I mean, you know I won’t tell you abort.”

“Three bananas!”

“So does that make you, like, pro-life or something?” asked Seneka.

“Pro-life, pro-choice, pro-death, whatever, I don’t know any of what that means,” said Pansy. “All this politics, random words, no idea what any of it means. Like, what is this? ‘Green?’ I see it everywhere. Today? I saw a sticker that said, ‘green and vegetarian,’ so I said, what?” She laughed a little. “They say they love plants, then they eat them. What is that?  I love Kang’ju. Do I eat Kang’ju? No. I don’t think so.”

Seneka laughed. “Okay. But didn’t you worry about the life your kid was going to be living down here?”

“Of course, but Hero takes care of us. As long as Hero is okay, we will be okay.” She bounced her head with pride.

Seneka nodded back. “Alright, but what if Hero wasn’t okay? Shit happens down here.”

“Oh, don’t get me started.” Pansy shuddered. “I don’t like thinking about that. He’s the only one who can get to the money. If Hero was gone, what would we do? Nothing. Scary thought.”

Seneka paused with a furrowed brow. “He’s gotta give the safe combination to somebody else. Just in case.”

Pansy laughed. “Who is he going to give it to? You? Me? No way, if he was going to give it us, he would have done it by now.”

“Well maybe we could explain why to him.”

“He knows why. Still won’t do it.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re poor, that’s why. As much as we are close and good friends, if we are desperate enough, we could steal.”

Seneka sipped her soup, thought and thought some more, and with a burst of realization, her eyes went wide. “Olivia.”

“Olivia?”

“Olivia is rich!” cried Seneka. “Olivia has no reason to steal from Hero, and he trusts her! She’s the one—he could give her the combination!”

Pansy chuckled again. “Yeah, you tell Hero to give his combination to new girl. I dare you.”