Settling Scores (Piper Anderson Series) (16 page)

She knew he meant it as a threat, as an ultimatum but really, it felt like a relief to know he was giving up. Not because she didn’t desperately want him with her, but because she wanted better for him. She knew she’d likely regret it someday, maybe even sooner than she thought. But today, knowing the strings were all cut made her happy for him. She grabbed her bag and walked toward the door he was still blocking. This was the moment. The moment he’d step away, let her by, and not come after her. She could feel it.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you were hoping for,” she sighed, keeping her face level, just inches from Josh’s body.

“You’re wrong, Willow. You’re exactly what I was hoping for. You just didn’t figure it out in time.” He leaned down, pulled her in tight, and kissed her passionately, nothing at all like a last kiss. And she hoped that somewhere, somehow it wouldn’t be.

Being back in California, slipping back into her Claudia personality was like being wrapped in a warm blanket.  Safe. Even though the time out here was actually quite dangerous, it was emotionally sheltered. She’d still been paying rent on her crappy studio apartment, because a part of her knew she’d be back here.

She crashed on her bed, oddly comforted by the lumpy lopsided mess, and welcomed the quiet that followed. Staring over at the blank wall, full of pushpins and holes she couldn’t believe everything that had been there was now gone. Solved. Resolved. But yet she felt worse. How could two people ruin so many lives? Her parents were truly patient zero in the disease she carried with her. It had poisoned so many. Jedda had lost so much. Those girls, and not limited to just the ones she remembered, had all been destroyed.

Rolling to her side, she looked down at her bag and saw a loose piece of paper that she didn’t recognize. Josh must have slipped it in when he pulled her in for that goodbye kiss. She was afraid to look at it. She knew it was likely to reduce her to tears, but she couldn’t help herself.

Unfolding it, she read the words slowly, knowing she might not hear anything else from Josh for a long time. This might be her last small connection to him. In his sloppy doctor’s scrawl she read his message. Each day we are born again. What we do today is what matters most – Buddha.

She refolded the paper and placed it over her heart as she stared up at the ceiling. She’d never thought of life this way before. That today was the most important day of her life. That her choices now were as impactful as anything that had happened to her in the past. What she’d always thought was that the shape she’d taken on all these years was what made her who she was. As though she was stone and every day pieces were chipped away to form this damaged solid mass. But could it be that she was in fact clay? Malleable and able to start over each day, create her own shape, her own existence?

She contemplated the depth and perfection of those words as she slipped her shoes back on and headed for the door. If she were coming out here to be Claudia, then she’d need to see Marcario and maybe he’d have something worth hearing. Something that could snap her out of this. His wisdom was rooted in darkness but it often resonated with her. His palpable regret and pain spoke to her.

As she walked to the bar, she tried to imagine if this could be her life? How long could she stay in that apartment and sing at the bar? Maybe they’d pay her and that could be her job. She was out of pretty much all other money now and if that wasn’t going to pay the bills she’d have to find something else.

Pulling open the heavy bar door she breathed in the scent of this place that she’d felt so comfortable in. This was where she was invisible and her history hadn’t chased her down. It felt good to step into the bar and hear the familiar music chiming over the jukebox.

Marcario wasn’t in his usual chair. As a matter of fact, none of his crew was where they normally were. The bar was not completely deserted but there weren’t many faces familiar to Willow. She moved hesitantly, trying to read the situation.

“What are you doing back here?” Jose, the bartender asked as he quickly rounded the bar and grabbed her by the arm. He guided her to the room in the corner where Marcario occasionally held impromptu meetings usually resulting in shouting that could be heard in any corner of the bar anyway.

“I’m here to see Marcario,” Willow said, yanking her arm back from his tight grip.

“This ain’t his place anymore. His crew isn’t welcome. And if these guys hear you used to roll with him you’re screwed.”

“What happened, why isn’t his crew here anymore?”

“That’s what happens when you get killed. Your turf gets taken over. Your crew gets bumped out.”

“Who got killed?” Willow asked, boring holes through the man with her angry eyes. Not wanting to piece together what she was afraid he was telling her.

“Marcario got shot up. Right out front here. Streets say it was Big Bo who got wind of him ratting him out.”

“No,” Willow cried, bracing herself against a chair, nearly falling to her knees. “He can’t be dead.”

“He is, little girl and you need to get the hell out of here. He had a plan for his family and they’re all taken care of but he told me if anything happened to him and you came back to take care of you too.”

“Take care of me?” Willow asked, wondering if that was some sort of code for killing her.

“He left you some cash and said to make sure you go back home. Your real home. Block Island.”

“What? I never told him where I grew up. He doesn’t know me,” she said, her breath labored.

The man walked over to a drawer in the corner of the room and pulled out a false bottom. There was an envelope in his hand and he shoved it into Willow’s gut, as though she had better take it and run. “Go. Get out of here before anyone makes any connection.”

Willow clutched the envelope and headed for the door, though she wasn’t sure her legs would carry her. She broke into a full run. Sweat beading down her back as she headed for her apartment, making sure no one was following her.

Running up her steps, she pushed open her door and fell onto her bed, the tears already trailing their way down her face. She’d gotten Marcario killed. Her plan was the reason he was dead. It should be her. It was all her idea. The thoughts slammed into each other like train cars colliding.

After a few minutes of sobbing, the kind that hurts your stomach and stings your eyes, she fought to catch her breath and steady her emotions. The envelope she’d carried was still clutched in her arms. She was hugging it like she’d hug Marcario if he were here now.

She didn’t love Marcario the way she did Josh. Her whole future wasn’t buried in the depth of his eyes. But he’d helped her, protected her and let her escape into his world for a short time. Opening the envelope, she took in the musky smell of his cologne and it broke her heart. There were three stacks of bills, all held together with rubber bands and she dumped them out onto the bed, not knowing or caring how much was there. All she wanted was to read the words he’d left for her on the loose notebook paper folded up at the bottom.

Willow,

Yes, I know who you really are. I’ve known since the first week I met you. I’m not stupid enough to do business with someone without knowing everything about them. I guess it doesn’t matter though, if you’re reading this then it really doesn’t matter anymore. You’re probably pissed, or mad at yourself or whatever but don’t mourn me. This is what happens to guys like me. We have expiration dates out here.

I know you don’t listen to anyone. But I bet you’ll listen to a dead guy. Go back. I know what you went through. I know who you used to be. Who gives a shit? Go back and figure out who really has your back, and stop being so pissed. Stop chasing things that don’t matter. If you came back here then you’re running again and that really pisses me off. It means you didn’t face something you were supposed to. Stop being a chicken shit. Stop running. Go back. Do whatever you didn’t do. If I were here maybe I’d do it with you but I have a feeling whoever was on your mind last time I saw you, is probably still around. If he was man enough to keep you out of my bed then he must be someone worth sticking around for.

You’re not Claudia, even if you want to be. It’s not safe for you here. Go be Willow.

She folded up the paper and tossed it on the floor. It fell next the note from Josh, intended to remind her that every day can be a fresh start. A stark contrast to Marcario’s note screaming that every day could be your last.  Neither on its own was a enough to cut to her core and make her actually think about changing direction, but together laying on the floor of her broken down empty studio apartment they were making an impact.

Marcario was dead. She wouldn’t be running to the shelter of his world to hide. That bridge had fallen. Josh was back in Edenville, probably stepping back into his life and pushing the idea of Willow out of his mind. She looked down at the two notes and tuned into one line of Marcario’s words, Go be Willow.

The only thing she didn’t do in New Jersey was face her own history there. She’d found the answers to where the other girls who’d been chained to that wall ended up, but she didn’t allow herself to remember what it was like when she was there. Willow had spent so long slicing that part of her life away, pretending it wasn’t there anymore, that when she was given the chance she didn’t take it.

She’d need to do it alone. Marcario was gone. She’d chased Josh off and while she had no doubt she could call him and he’d come help her she couldn’t take him on that ride. He’d given her the chance and she walked away from him. Now it was up to her. She’d take a couple days in California, try to find some clarity on the beach as the waves rolled in, and then she’d head back to the city. She’d face the apartment. She’d go through her parents’ belongings if there were any left. Maybe she’d known it all along, but facing that moment was what this was all about. It’s what her life had been leading her towards. It was the tether that hitched her soul to the past and unless she got close enough to it, she’d never be able to sever it. It was time.

The beach had actually helped, much to Willow’s surprise. Soaking up the sun and bracing herself for what was to come was exactly what she needed. Now, as she stepped off the plane, she knew she couldn’t get sidetracked. It would be easy for her to convince herself to go a million places besides the apartment, but if she didn’t head there now she might never.

With any luck, Tony would be there and he’d let her in. And if not, then she’d park her butt outside and wait as long as it took. There would be no excuses, no stopping her. This place was a piece of her, a scar that couldn’t be removed or covered but it didn’t do her any good to pretend it wasn’t there either. It ached and burned and it kept her from being able to give her whole heart to anyone. It made her snap, lash out, and push people away. It made her afraid. It made her conform and try too hard to be something she wasn’t. It controlled her and she was tired of it.

The cab ride from the airport had her palms sweating and her nerves on edge. The closer she got to the apartment the heavier the weight on her chest grew. When the driver pulled up, she took cash from her bag and slapped it into his palm as she stepped out. None of this would even have been possible if not for the money from Marcario.

Staring up at the building as if it were the first time she’d seen it she took in a deep breath. Maybe the timing would be wrong. Maybe Tony went on vacation. She couldn’t tell if she was hoping that was the case. Stepping forward she whispered to herself, you have to face this.

With fidgeting hands and sweat beading up on the back of her neck, she approached the door and rang the buzzer intended to call Tony down. When no one answered, she felt a wave of relief flood over her. She took a few steps backwards and spun quickly as she heard footsteps behind her.

“You’re back?” Tony asked with a look of confusion on his face. “Your doctor friend said you might show up here.”

“Josh?” Willow asked, stunned that the two would have talked again.

“Yeah, he left yesterday.”

“What do you mean? He was here?”

“You bet he was. I don’t know how he did it but he was down in that basement storage for two whole days sorting through everything. It took him almost a full day just to get to the back utility closet where I put all your old stuff.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I told you, your parents’ things were down there but they were so buried I didn’t know how you’d ever get to them. Well he said that he thought you’d be back here one day to go through everything and he wanted to make sure you could get to them. I’ll be honest, it’s nasty down there. He came up out of that basement at the end of every day looking like he’d been working in a coal mine. That kid must really care about you to do that. But I didn’t expect you back here so soon. He thought you’d maybe be back some time down the road, but not now.”

“I’ve been scared,” Willow admitted, her emotions making it impossible for her to block the truth from coming out. “I’m really scared.”

A look of discomfort, swirled in with some empathy, filled Tony’s face. “Maybe you should call him. This doesn’t sound like something you should do alone. I’m sure he’d come back.”