White Lady (23 page)

I frown. “That’s not going to happen. You just stay in the house and you’ll be safe.

“Uh … how?”

“What do you think I’m in a wedding dress for?”

“I have no fucking idea why you’re in your stupid wedding dress.”

I glare at her to suggest her sarcasm is uncalled for. “Well, in case you’re interested, it’s to distract him.”

“Ok
aaay
.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Clearly.”

The urge to slap Kimiko for her lip is rising. But I hold myself together. It’s not the time or the place to get into an argument with her. “Look, go into Mick’s bedroom. Lock the door. Move his dresser in front of it. Then sit in his wardrobe, inside his torture chamber thing. It’ll shield you from bullets.”

“What the fuck?” Kimiko shrieks.

“It’s just a precaution. It won’t come to that, trust me. The plan is solid. I’ll come get you when it’s all over.”

Kimiko nods, rubbing her arms, shivering.

BOOM!

Our heads whip towards the front of the house, where screeching tyres and crashing and banging sounds barrel down the hall.

“What was that?” I whisper. My heart hovers and pounds in my throat and ears. Kimiko starts to cry.

I hesitate, hold up my hands, a gesture for Kimiko to not move yet. I turn to see if I can see what’s going on outside through the edge of the living room window that’s visible from where I’m standing.

Kimiko gasps.

I spin around to find a man with a fluorescent-green cap holding a hand over Kimiko’s mouth and a gun to her head. Kimiko tries to struggle free by elbowing the guy in the ribs, but then her eyes widen and focus behind my head, and she starts screaming into the man’s hand.

We’re not the only people in the room.

I can smell him.

Coffee, whiskey, icing sugar.

A sense of calm overwhelms me.

He unzips my wedding dress from behind, pulls me close, and nuzzles his face into the back of my neck.

“Ebedi öpücük,” Ibrahim whispers.

He brushes hair away from my skin and slowly licks my neck along the vertebrae. He slips a knife into my hand. The handle is steel—cold in my palm. My fingers wrap around the handle as if it was made especially for my grip. My breath slows, thickens with want, so much so I can hear my blood pulse through my head.

“Do it,” Ibrahim says.

Without a moment’s hesitation I slice through Kimiko’s jugular and admire the magnitude of the blood’s flow.

I have returned home.

I am free.

I am once again—me.

Chapter 55

Mia: Blood on my tongue.

The road is cold and rough against my left cheek—the white reflection of the moon ripples in the pool of blood between me and Dad.

I blink, wince at a sharp pain in my thigh. I touch it with my right hand. It’s wet, warm—a moist memory.

“Dad?” I whisper.

His eyelids flutter.

“Nash.” I whisper a little louder, hoping he’ll respond to his name instead. He remains still, silent, skeletal. I try to reach for him, but my left arm won’t move. I’m not sure if I can even feel it.

Behind me, slow movement shifts the air. Someone curses under their breath and kicks a rock. It tumbles, rolls to a halt in the distance.

Gentle footsteps approach from behind. Someone sniffs, groans, and clears their throat; another voice whimpers.

A switchblade flicks open. The sound hovers in the air.

A small gasp. Female.

“What happened? What’s going on?”

A man coughs, spits on the road—it splatters like phlegm. He tells the woman to shut the fuck up.

“Oh my God, I can’t feel my legs. I can’t feel my legs!” she cries.

“Don’t move, ya cunt—stay in the fuckin’ car.” The man’s voice quivers, his tone anxious, familiar. I think I know who it is. But it can’t be. He wouldn’t do something like this.

He loves me.

I roll onto my side, clenching my teeth through the sharp stabbing in my leg, and look towards the voices.

It’s Mum, her face covered in blood, trapped in a mutilated rent-a-car wrapped around a tree. What is she doing here? Why?

My breath quickens. I look at the car, and at Dad, still motionless. Shooting pain crawls up my left arm and into my neck like an electric shock.

Did Mum run us over?

It is him. It’s Mick.

And he has a knife to Mum’s throat?

“Mick, no.” I try to call out, but my voice is weak. My thigh feels like it’s becoming one with the road, pounding I-told-you-sos via the stabbing sensations that keep spasming from my knee up to my breasts.

I should never have gotten involved in this.

“Mick!” I try again.

He turns his head.

“What are you doing? Leave her alone.” I croak. “Help me. I don’t think I can move.”

Mick’s eyes dart left to right; his Adam’s apple moves up and down, the whites of his eyes glowing under the streetlights.

“Are you okay, babe? Did you get hit hard?” Mick stutters, keeping the knife to Mum’s throat. She whimpers like a child.

“I think so.” The sentence comes out all shaky.

Mick nods and groans.

But I really don’t know if I’m okay. I can’t even tell how bad my injury is. All I know is that it hurts like hell.

“You shouldn’t be here, babe,” I say. “You were supposed to leave when Kimi got here.”

“I wanted the cunt for myself. Did he come? Is he inside?”

“I dunno. I didn’t see. Babe, Dad and I need help.”

Mick’s jaw tightens, and he flicks his chin towards Dad.

“He alive?”

An involuntary cry escapes my mouth. I’ve been trying to stay strong. But I can’t. What if Dad’s dead? I couldn’t live with myself. How will I be able to forgive myself for not telling him about everything that very same day I got involved? I’m so fucking stupid.

“He’s not moving.” I wail.

“Fuck!” Mick kicks the side of Mum’s car. She moans. “Where the fuck are the narcs?”

“What?” Mum gasps, seeming to have just come to. “Mia? What’s going on?”

“Who the fuck is this cunt? You know ’er?” Mick snaps.

I nod, wincing in pain as I try to tell him who she is. I need a hospital. Why won’t Mick just call an ambulance? “It’s—my—my—mother.”

“Shit!” Mick quickly pulls the knife away from Mum’s throat and jumps back a few feet. He stares at her, then looks back at me.

“She a threat?”

“No.”

Silence.

“Mick? Is that your name, little boy?” Mum’s voice is high but slurred.

Mick curses under his breath. “The narcs should’ve been here by now. Fuck!”

“Mick, look at me,” Mum says. Her voice sounds weak. Apologetic. “I need a hospital. So do Mia and Nash. Can you please call an ambulance for us? Whatever illegal stuff is going on, I won’t say anything. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Mick paces for a bit, then kneels down beside me. He strokes my forehead, my cheek. His skin is warm and comforting against my cold goose-pimpled skin.

“Your leg’s all fucked up, babe,” he whispers.

I start to cry. “My arm feels weird too.”

“Fuckin’ hell. How fast was your mother drivin’?”

“I dunno, I … Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, Mick, my—my—my leg, it hurts!”

Mick stands and brings his hands to his head, breathing in and out so hard and fast that it makes me breathe faster too.

I’m going to die. I can feel it.

“Babe, we just have to tell the cops the truth,” I whisper. “We haven’t done anything wrong. We haven’t. Please, just call an ambulance. Please.”

Mick paces, backwards and forwards, within the space of about two metres, his fingers to his mouth, biting off bits of nail and spitting them to the ground.

“But what about Mum ’n’ Kimi? They’re inside with a fuckin’ shitload of drugs. They’ll go to fuckin’ prison. Something fucked up, I know it. I should bust in. Then I’ll call an ambulance. I’ll take the blame for everythin’. There’s no other way.”

“Babe, no! What if he’s in there?” I feel like I’m shouting, but it sounds more like hot air with syllables.

“Your stupid fucking mother!” Mick yells. “What the fuck is she doin’ here anyway?” He kicks the edge of the footpath multiple times.

“I’m sorry!” Mum cries. “I was—I think I must have passed out at the wheel. I don’t know how this happened. It was an accident. But we all really need a hospital, Mick. I don’t know what’s—”

“Shh!” Mick jerks his head towards his house. There’s a sound of a struggle coming from inside, and two evenly spaced gunshots fired.

Oh my God. It can’t be. This can’t be happening.

My heart slows, beats lazily in my ears, and I suddenly feel cold, weak, and breathless, the taste of blood on my tongue like live copper wire.

Then everything …

… starts to fade.

Chapter 56

Mick: I can taste it.

I scream, “Fuck!” shaking Mia to stop ’er from closin’ ’er eyes. “You need to stay awake, babe. Open ya eyes. Look at me. For fuck’s sake, please.”

Mia groans ’n’ nods slowly, wincing ’n’ reaching for her leg. “I’m tired. Just let me sleep.”

I stroke her hair ’n’ hold me breath. I’m not gonna be a fuckin’ pussy. I’m gonna keep her alive. She
will
stay alive. “You’re in shock, babe. You
need
to stay awake.” I lean down ’n’ kiss her on her forehead. I can’t fuckin’ believe this. I did this to ’er. I shouldn’t’ve let her fuckin’ get involved.

I whack meself on the head over ’n’ over, repeatin’ “fuck” over ’n’ over.

Fuck what the cops think happened. Fuck me dad. There is always a next time. Always another fuckin’ life. I jus’ gotta take the rap. It’s the only fuckin’ way I can save Mia from this.

As I stand, Mia reaches out for me ’n’ whimpers. “I love you,” she says. I jus’ wanna break down ’n’ cry. But I can’t. I gotta be strong. I gotta show Mia I have what it takes to look after ’er.

I take ’er hand ’n’ close me eyes. “I’ll call an ambulance, babe. Really soon. Help will be here really fuckin’ soon. Ya just gotta stay awake a little longer, babe. Promise me. I need to think a minute.” I stroke ’er head. She’s shakin’ ’n shit. I take me T-shirt off ’n’ wrap it around the gash in her leg. I’ve seen people do that shit on TV. You know, to stop the bleedin’ ’n’ shit.

Mia’s mum starts screamin’ ’n’ bangin’ ’er hand into the jammed car door. She’s never gonna get herself out like that. What the fuck does she think she’s tryin’ to pull? And she’s gonna draw attention to us. We need to keep the cops away for as long as fuckin’ possible. The neighbours have prob’ly already called someone about the car crash.

She screams again. It’s so fuckin’ ear-piercin’ that a few people’s porch lights turn on. If the neighbours come out of their houses now we’re all totally screwed.

“Shut the fuck up,” I hiss. “You wanna go to fuckin’ prison?”

“You’re the asshole that’s going to prison! Get me outta this car!” Mia’s mum growls like a psycho.

“Shh!” I spit. I’ve gotta find a fuckin’ way to shut the bitch up.

“Get me out, get me out, get me out!” she screams.

Fuckin’ great. We’re doomed. A neighbour from across the street comes out onta their front lawn ’n’ tells us to keep it down. He holds a hand up to his eyes. But then the look on his face changes, and he bolts to his front door, screaming for his wife to call the cops.

“Look what you’ve fucking done, you fucked up fuckin’ cunt!” I don’t care if she’s Mia’s mum. Doesn’t fuckin’ matter now anyway. Everyone’s starin’ out their fuckin’ windas.

I step closer to the car wreck and kick the door. “Are you fuckin’ happy, bitch? Ya just sent ya daughter to prison for being a fuckin’, ya know, thing, to drug trafficking.”

“You don’t know who I am,” she squeals. “I have power. I can run you into the ground before the cops do. Now, get me the fuck out of this car before I make your life a living hell!”

Mia’s mum’s voice rings in me ears like a high-pitched siren. It switches somethin’ on inside me that I’ve never felt before in me life. I pull me knife outta me back pocket, ’n’ before I can even think to stop meself, I slit ’er fuckin’ throat.

Everythin’ goes quiet. All I can ’ear is me heart thumpin’ in me ears. The thrill of the cut pulsin’ through me body like petrol.

But then it hits me what I’ve done. And I throw up.

I just fuckin’ murdered someone. The
mother
of the girl I love.

What the fuck did I just do
…?

I turn to face me house ’n’ see the side door fling open.

And two shadowy figures drag two bodies inta the backyard.

Mum? No, no,
no
, not me mum!

Chapter 57

Sonia: Ebedi öpücük

Ibrahim wraps Kimi and his fleuro-green-capped sidekick in the black garden plastic. He secures it with rope, grunting as he ties the last knot around Kimi’s neck.

He pulls the bag of fertilizer out of the shed. It pelts down with rain. My hair and dress quickly become cold and wet.

I shiver, staring at Ibrahim, trying to remain as still as possible, not to show emotion. It’s how he likes it—corpse bride. I wonder if we are going to get away with this, why he killed his sidekick. Is this part of some grand scheme to get me back on his side? Was threatening Mick a way to get closer to me, knowing very well that I’d do anything to protect our son from living his parents’ fate? Did he send Kimiko to tempt Mia with drugs to get to us through Nash?

Ibrahim smiles.

Steps closer.

Slow. Steady.

His footsteps silent amidst the slick splashing of rain on the plastic-covered bodies.

Ibrahim cups my face in his hands. Water drips from his nose. He kisses me—I breath in—our wet mouths blending together like dough.

Gentle.

Soft.

I’m his “forever kiss.”

“Ebedi öpücük.” Ibrahim sighs. “Run away with me.”

I tremble and nod, but hold still as Ibrahim uses one hand to massage my breast. He moves his hand down my stomach, lifts my dress, and his fingers crawl inside the front of my pants. He runs a finger gently over my clitoris. I shiver and close my eyes.

His breath is sweet.

Turkish Delight.

Tempting. Delicious. Dangerous. I open my eyes again.