Page 42 of Genesis

The man laughs. “You think I care? I knew you’d get that damn thing off eventually, and that’s exactly why I’m wearing a mask.”

“You’re wearing a mask because you’re a fucking coward.” I hear Danny spit on the floor.

“Careful. You don’t know who you’re talking to.”

“Show me then. Show me who I’m talking to. I’d like to get a real good look at you before my boys come and cut your fucking body parts off and feed them to you.”

“Your boys ain’t coming anywhere near here. Trust me.” I hear the man walk closer to me and I lean back, my hands shaking from nerves. He yanks the blindfold off my face.

“You might as well be able to see, too. I’d hate for you to die blind.”

I wince from the harsh light pouring into the room. The urge to rub my eyes is nearly overwhelming and I wiggle my hands in protest.

“God, why won’t you let us go, you psychotic motherfucker?” The force of his hand against my cheek nearly knocks me out.

“No!” Danny yells. “Don’t you fucking touch her.” I hear Danny’s chair move and then fall over. He grunts in pain.

“Shut up,” the man says. My ear rings a steady low tune. My jaw throbs and my skin burns. I blink my eyes, trying to get ahold of myself. Jesus Christ, I’ve never been hit so hard in my life. I lick the side of my lip, tasting copper and wincing from the cut that’s now there. His hand covered the whole side of my face.

“I’m trying to calm shit down out there. Ya know, the whole search party bullshit.” He walks over to Danny and lifts him back upright. “And when I do, I’ll be bringing you things that only your loved ones valued. They’ll be newspaper clippings of a tragic murder that happened to a sweet old lady. She did live in a bad town, after all.

“And then you’ll read in the headlines.” He waves his hand in the air dramatically. “A ruthless politician was sleeping with his family close by, tucked safely in their beds when his throat was slit on a Sunday morning.”

“No one gives a fuck about a dirty politician anyway. Oh, wait. You do,” he says to Danny.

I look over at Danny. His jaw is tight, and I’m shocked it doesn’t snap at the way this man is talking about killing his family.

My family.

He wears a black ski mask, and he’s about six-two I’d imagine. He’s got to weigh over two hundred pounds, and most of that seems to be muscle, except for his belly, which pokes out just enough for you to know it’s there.

“Curse a God on you altogether. You will suffer for this. Mark me,” Danny says so eerily it sends chills down my own spine.

The man laughs. “Oh, Bones, you and your Irish curses. Your father was a fool, and so are you. You can’t outlive the kind of life you’ve chosen, and you won’t.”

Danny looks to the floor, and I swallow. I’ve never seen him so helpless, and because I know he doesn’t want me to, I look away.

Chapter Eighteen

Bexley

2003

I hop out of my car, my hands full of books from my study session with a group from school. Walking into the house, I hear Hale and a woman laughing.

“Hey,” I say, kicking the door shut behind me.

“In here,” Hale says. I drop the books onto the key table and walk into the living room.

“Bexley, this is Trinity. She’ll be having dinner with us.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say with a smile.

“And you,” she says. “I hope you like breakfast. It’s the only thing I can cook, and your uncle here is making me show off my mediocre skills.”

I laugh. “It’s the most important meal. I’m good with breakfast.”

“Great.” She smiles.

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