The Years After (33 page)

“Where’s your mother?” Tony finally asked and they both jumped, rather startled. Whoever spoke with such authority or interest in them?

Max shook his head, his eyes growing more fearful as he held Derek’s gaze. “What? Max, what is it?”

He shook his head some more, and Derek’s shoulders dropped. “When?”

Tony interrupted. “When what?”

“She’s gone.”

Tony shook his head as if trying to clear his ears out. “You two speak in riddles. What is going on here?”

“Is she coming back?” he ignored Tony. Max shrugged, then shook his head in the negative. “When?”

“F-few months.”

His legs nearly gave out. “How can you afford this place? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“F-f-fights. Earned enough money.”

“You don’t earn enough—”

Suddenly, he knew. He knew in his gut what was going on. “You’re fighting for Quentrell, aren’t you?”

Max wouldn’t meet his gaze. He turned and kicked some of the clutter around him. Derek shook his head. “That’s why you didn’t tell me? That’s why the brass knuckles were used on you?” He fisted his hands, wanting nothing more than to shove them straight into the wall. His brother ended up exactly where he was always destined to be. He watched Max, knowing he could turn around and walk out. Be done. With all of it. Quentrell had Max now. He didn’t have to feel guilty. He could just be gone. Done.

He didn’t even know his little brother. But Max didn’t deserve the life he was set up to live and die so young in. Fighting was only the start, until it became more serious, with bigger bets and higher stakes. He’d be dead before his eighteenth birthday. A strange calm overcame Derek. A foreign tone of command entered his voice when he pointed at Max and flicked his finger down the hall. “Get your stuff. You’re done here.”

He never once told Max what to do or spoke with any authority in his voice. Max stared at him, shocked and surprised at first. He didn’t move. “Go! Damn it! This ends now.”

Max shrugged and went down the hall. “What is this?” Tony repeated.

“He’s fighting for Quentrell. It used to be schoolyard fights he set up bets on. He’s moved on to Quentrell’s set-ups. Mom is gone. That’s what this is.”

Tony’s eyes blinked and opened. “Is there anyone else, Derek? Anyone on this planet for you two who isn’t connected to the underworld?”

“No. Not a soul.”

Tony nodded, and his gaze appeared weary. Derek could imagine his regret in coming after him. He was waiting for Tony to turn and walk out. To abandon him. And go back to his decent, good life. Instead, Tony said, “Hurry up then. Let’s get out of this shit hole.”

He grabbed Max. His one backpack was always packed and at the ready. They walked out without a word to each other or Tony. Tony ordered them to get in, taking his cell out and going beyond their hearing for several minutes. Never once did his expression change. Derek didn’t ask where they were going or what they were going to do. Neither did Max.

Tony took them to Calliston. Watching the passing scenery, Derek realized it fifteen minutes into the ride. He stared out in disbelief. When they pulled into the lovely, family home where he spent a week, he was speechless. More surprised than he was at Max’s admission of fighting for Quentrell, or his own intention to commit murder.

“You can’t mean this.”

“I can. I do. Get inside. Gretchen is staying with Olivia. I’m tired. I’m pissed off and I’m not sure yet what to do with either of you. But inside right now and no shit, Derek, I won’t tolerate it.”

Derek set down his stuff and so did Max in the guest bedroom. Max didn’t fight or try to resist. He’d been shuffled around so often in his brief life, it never occurred to him to complain or question anyone’s motives. He never believed any good would come of this. Derek regretted being such a shit ass brother. Look what he’d done tonight. Leaving Max to his own devices, and fighting for his survival. Literally.

“Get some sleep. Both of you. That’s enough for tonight.” Tony shut the door like the final verdict on the matter. The two brothers stared at each other in the gloom of the bedroom.

“Is that what normal parents do?”

Derek shrugged. “How would I know? But don’t do anything to cross them. They’re not like us.”

“I k-know.” Max mumbled as he lay on the bed, fully clothed. His clothes reeked. How could Derek ignore his dirtier than usual laundry and foul body odor? Max simply didn’t know how to do laundry or shower properly. Derek sighed and sat down. The weight of his failures with Max suddenly seemed too heavy for his shoulders to bear.

Chapter Sixteen

OLIVIA LISTENED TO HER mother’s voice as she stood in the corner of the hospital room. She tried to shield Olivia from her flaming anger, but Olivia caught enough of it to sense something huge had happened. When her mother took the phone from her ear, she turned and met Olivia’s inquisitive gaze. Her fake, polite smile pretended nothing was wrong.

“I was kidnapped and drugged, Mother, quit pretending all is fine. What happened?”

“He found Derek.”

“Is he all right?”

“That’s debatable,” Gretchen mumbled.

“Mom?”

“I don’t have all the details, but he said Derek and his brother were in a lot of trouble and he, oh my God! I can’t believe him! He took them to
our
house. Our house in Calliston!”

“Max is only thirteen, Mom.”

She nodded and yanked her hair behind her ear. “I was informed of that. But he brought a known drug dealer into my house. After you were targeted for that same association. What is he thinking? I don’t care about them. I only care about you.”

“They said I can go home. Let’s go, Mom. Please. Uncle Donny said he’d drive us. Please. I think I need to be there.”

Kylie, Ally, Tracy and Donny were in and out during the last few hours to shower Olivia with their love and support. Kylie was a mess after non-stop crying, and thinking it should have been her. Tracy kept hugging her, and trying to soothe her, but it didn’t work. Olivia understood why Kylie felt so guilty. But her talent for reassuring others wasn’t so easy right now for her to summon. Donny promised he’d drive them home, and she was ready. No, she
needed
to go there now. She needed all the information about Derek and Max. She had to know everything. She deserved that much.

Her mom insisted they wait until morning. Olivia barely slept, but when the morning sun arose, she was more than relieved to get showered and put on the clothes Kylie brought her from the dorm. Her dorm. It seemed light years in her past now. Going to college. Living at the dorm. Studying. Friends. Music. All of it felt miles and years removed from her now. She felt somehow different. Irrevocably altered.

The ride home was very quiet. Her mother kept her head against the passenger window and her eyes closed as Donny drove. Olivia sat in the back.
Home.
When she saw her childhood home again, her eyes teared up and she sniffled. Gretchen turned and grabbed her hand as she started to cry. After Donny parked, her mom pulled her out of the car, and held her as Olivia lost it once again, in the driveway. It came unexpectedly. But she felt so vulnerable and fragile. The magnitude of almost dying hit her harder now than at the hospital.

Donny took her arm and she glanced up with a smile when he became quiet and gentle with her.

Her dad came rushing out and she fell against his chest, nearly hyperventilating. She realized he could have been hurt and it would have been all her fault. He patted her head as he stroked her hair. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

“You could have been hurt.”

“But I wasn’t. And it was necessary. What I stopped last night was a matter of life and death. You were right, and I’m not sorry. Come in, sweetie.” His beard tickled her face as he gently kissed her cheek and pulled her inside.

“He’s in the room. You don’t have to face him if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” she said, stiffening her back. She nodded and gained more courage. “I want to now.”

Tony held her hand in his. “So I found Derek with a gun in his hands. He was waiting below some building that I believe Quentrell was in. The man who drugged you. He was out of his mind, honey. I mean like sweating, crying, and freaking out. He had no idea where he was or what he was doing. I walked right up behind him and took the gun from him and he never even realized I was there. He fell to the ground, sobbing. He’s screwed, honey. Far more than you can ever understand. I convinced him to come with me, but it wasn’t easy. I think he made his peace and was fully intent on dying last night. I think he welcomed it. And then, there was Max. Their mother deserted them. Max is thirteen and homeless. He has to earn money for Quentrell by staging fights.”

Gretchen shook her head. “Why bring this here? To our home, Tony?”

He sighed and his head dropped. “I didn’t know where else to take them.”

Donny stood up in the room. “Do you think any of their shit could follow you here?”

“I can’t imagine it could. But at least, I know how to use the weapons that idiot kid almost hurt himself with.”

“Still, that isn’t our problem.”

“He’s thirteen, Gretchen.
Thirteen.
The eighteen-year-old isn’t much better off. I guess I’m supposed to see an adult, but all I see is a scared shitless kid, who’s all alone in a world that’s out to destroy him.”

“I’m just so scared,” Gretchen whispered, clasping Olivia’s arm in her hand.

Olivia covered her mom’s hand with her own and said finally, “I guess we should talk.”

Donny nodded and came around to hug and kiss her and Gretchen. He even hugged Tony. His expression was grim with concern. “Call me later.”

“We will,” Tony assured as Donny stepped out the front door.

Tony then rapped on the door to the guest room. “Come on out here, boys.”

Boys?
It sounded like her dad was calling naughty little boys to dinner, not a drug dealer and his brawling brother.

She shuddered and fell onto the couch next to her mom. Gretchen’s face was screwed up in a scowl of disbelief. Her arms were crossed over chest. “I cannot believe he’s doing this to you.”

“I started it,” Olivia said, ready to own her half of the blame.

The door opened and out came Derek. He wore jeans and sweatshirt. His clothes were all wrinkled, no doubt having just been pulled from his duffel bag, in which he always wadded everything. The bill on the hat he wore kept his eyes from showing. He stood inside the room, keeping his gaze down and being careful not to approach her. Behind him came Max, similarly dressed. Max was dirty. Like he hadn’t washed in a long time dirty. He had dried blood on his collar and bruises on his face.

“You’ve been fighting again,” Olivia stated to Max, ignoring Derek. He raised his head and shrugged.

“Sit down over there.” Tony directed before addressing them. “Whose gun is this? Let’s get the whole story this time, Derek.”

Derek glanced at her dad, and quickly glimpsed at Olivia before he jerked his eyes away as if he’d just been zapped by a weapon. He didn’t look or act like the Derek she knew. He was so despondent. Defeated. Done. Derek glanced at Max, who shrugged as if to say
whatever
.

“It was my father’s,” he said, his shoulders hunching forward. He talked then to the ground. “When I was eight, he went after Max and me. I mean like he was going to kill us. He had this knife and he used it to slash at us and he pinned Max… and,” Derek’s voice faltered as his knee started bouncing up and down. “Well, I grabbed the gun from the table and shot it. I don’t remember doing it. Only after it was done. He left the gun everywhere, on the counter, the kitchen table, the bathroom. I caught Max once playing with it when he was two. It’s amazing either of us survived to live this long.”

Olivia’s mouth hung open and she clutched at her mom’s hand tighter. She had no idea it was this bad. Never. No. Her heart ceased and her lungs quit working. He had to kill his father.

“Did he hurt you often?” her dad asked. Tony’s tone was still formal and gentle as he guided Derek through his discomfort in relating the sad tale.

“Yes. He hit us all. Mom. Me. Max… Quentrell.”

Wait. Quentrell?

“So he lived with you at some point?”

“Yeah, when I was really young. My dad was building up the drugs and crew then. When I—when I murdered him, I called Quentrell because I was so scared. Out of my mind scared. I hid Max in the bedroom we shared. Mom? She just lay there as if it didn’t happen. But he bled everywhere. And the police… I was so scared. So I called him.”

“He’s your brother?” Olivia exclaimed out loud, but more to herself, as if
that
were the most shocking part of his story.

Derek finally met her gaze. His eyes were wide and huge. She pictured the cocky, kind of forward look he had in his eyes when he first met her. She pictured him looking so sure he would get sex from her on their second date. That Derek was a polar opposite of this pained, broken, and suddenly vulnerable guy in front of her now. “Yes. He’s my older brother. Me, Max and him, share the same father. Our moms were prostitutes. Just groupies that hung off him, most of the time trashed out of their heads. Quentrell came over, and took care of things. I hid in my room for three days. I was too scared to come out. When I finally emerged, it was all gone. The blood. The body. The… other stuff. And no one ever came to arrest me. I waited for the police, for weeks. I just sat on the couch, ready to go to jail. But no one ever came.”

“What about the gun?”

“I hid it under my bed. I was scared of it. It stayed there until I buried it in a dumpy, little park down the road. When I moved out, I got it again. For insurance, I guess.”

It hurt to breathe. The shame and hatred toward himself hurt Olivia. She felt that more than anything else about him. She had no idea. None. It was hard to fathom the magnitude of what he and Max survived.

“Quentrell then owned me. He knew what I’d done. My mom took me to him about a month later and told him I’d do whatever he wanted, as long as he kept her supplied. And that was it. I started to work, doing errands and messages. Stupid stuff. Then it branched out from there, and I started selling dope around the local schools and parks. I was young and quick, so I blended in. I could sell weed to twelve-year-olds right in front of their parents because who would have suspected me?”