33. Relic

Chapter thirty-three

Relic

W ithout electricity, our apartment was as dark as a tomb. The only windows in our unit belonged to the living room, and even those let in little to no natural light. Taking advantage of the long summer days and my truce with Marsh, I brought Camila over to Marsh's house after work so she could play in their yard.

Back when we were kids, Marsh's mom had bought one of those metal, prefabricated swing sets. We used to play on that thing for hours. Of course, only the rusted frame remained now, but Marsh and I used chains and a wooden board to make a swing for Camila. By the grace of whatever god reigned above, the old metal slide was still intact. To keep Camila from getting third degree burns, we made the chute into a waterslide, running a hose to the top of it and placing a plastic kiddie pool at the bottom to catch her.

Marsh and I sat in camp chairs as we watched her laugh and squeal as she went up and down the slide.

"Did you give Macie the yearbook?" Marsh asked.

"Yeah."

"And?"

And nothing. "It'll take her awhile to open it. This shit she's gone through is hard." I considered telling him about the tattoo, but then he'd ask for specifics, and I had nothing to give. I had faith, though, that Macie would work through this and give me those specifics soon. She was strong and courageous, and I had no doubt she'd tunnel through that wall in her mind.

"Someone finds out I'm helping you, it's the equivalent of writing my own death note."

"We'll be long gone before that happens," I promised. "We're going to leave all this shit behind."

The electronic music of an ice cream truck sounded, and Camila froze as this pure look of hope overtook her expression. "Can I have ice cream?"

Marked up ice cream I could buy at the store cheaper? "No."

Marsh stood. "I'll buy you ice cream."

Camila cheered and my head dropped. "You don't need to do that."

"I don't, but I like buying people's friendship." Marsh sent me a sly grin, and I shook my head at him. I stood, Camila raced over to Marsh, took his hand, and dragged him to the front yard, paranoid that, if they didn't move fast enough, the truck would pass her by.

Nearing the truck, Marsh swung Camila up on his hip, not caring how her swimsuit soaked his shirt. The two of them shared a very intense debate regarding the best treat. I hung back and let them have their moment. Marsh loved Camila as much as I did. He had helped me raise her from the moment Dad brought her home from the hospital. He had changed her diapers, fed her, burped her, and had been vomited on by her more than once.

Marsh was my family, my brother, a second father to Camila, and I had to do everything in my power to get all of us out of the city alive.

"What's going on?" Dad called out from a rolled down window as he pulled into Marsh's driveway.

My mind stuttered because my father was behind the wheel of a car. A nice car at that. A Mercedes—newer model—and not even one scratch existed on the black paint. "Does Eric know you've expanded his business model into jacking cars? He may not be thrilled about that."

Dad laughed. I wasn't joking.

"Eric's loaning it to me. He wants to make sure I have reliable transportation."

What was this going to cost us? "Could you have bartered down the amount you owe Eric instead?"

"Eric's trying to help, Relic," Dad said like he was tired of me and my attitude. Like he had any right to be. But I'd been tired of Dad since I was in fourth grade, so as far as I was concerned, my attitude had nothing but time. "He said you and Lyra could drive it, too. He even put a booster seat in the back for Camila."

That was Eric, concerned about the safety of minors and upholding state laws. Seeing me unmoved, Dad turned off the car, got out, and stood in front of me. "What does Eric have to do for you to see he wants nothing more than to help this family? To help you?"

Help us? He wanted to own us. As I opened my mouth to argue, a glint of light caught my attention, Dad's too, and as I took in the car rolling toward us with the windows powering down, Dad yelled out, "Get down!"

Camila. Her name was the painful beat of my heart, and as I went to run for her, Dad tackled me to the ground, covering his body with mine. I fought to get out from underneath him, screaming my sister's name. Two gunshots, both deafening, both creating an agonizing fear that tore my soul apart, and then the squeal of tires as the car peeled out and sped away. The ice cream truck took off right behind.

I kicked Dad off me, scrambled across the yard, falling twice as I moved too quickly for my legs to keep up with my brain and watched as Marsh pulled himself off of Camila. He had shielded her with his body, and at the sight of me, she burst into tears.

Gathering her into my arms, I hugged her close, possibly pressing the air out of her, but I had to make sure she was safe, alive. She shook as she strangled my neck, as she held me tight, her tears hot against my skin.

"Are you okay?" I asked, and when she didn't respond beyond more tears, I forced her back and tried to look at her entire body at once. No blood. Not believing what I was seeing, I checked her over again and again and again.

"Are you okay?" I pushed, but she only cried harder.

"She's scared," Marsh said. "But I got her covered."

Camila forced herself back into my arms and buried her face in the crook of my neck. I cupped the back of her head and kissed her temple. "It's okay. We're okay. Everything's okay."

But we weren't and she knew it.

"Warning shots," Dad said. "They shot straight into the air." He and Marsh shared a heavy look that pissed me off. I stood, Camila's tears slid down my neck, and I fought the urge to punch Dad and Marsh in the jaw.

"Which one of you were they shooting at?" I demanded.

"Warning shots," Dad repeated.

"Fuck that," I snapped. "Which one?"

Neither of them said anything, and I had my answer—it could be either or both.

"Relic, we'll tell Eric. He'll protect us—" Dad started, but I didn't want his bullshit.

I rounded so quickly on him that he stumbled back. "You stay the fuck away from me, Camila, and Lyra. Don't you dare come to our apartment again, and don't you dare go crying to Eric about it either."

I glanced over at Marsh, and he couldn't even meet my eyes. "I'm getting you out." Then I stalked away.

Dad called out, "Where are you going?"

Nowhere. Nowhere but dead if we stayed here.

***

By candlelight and the flashlight on my cell, I gave Camila a bath, sitting by the tub allowing her to play as long as she wanted with her rubber ducks and the plastic mermaids I found at the dollar store for her for Christmas. It was two million degrees in the apartment, so it didn't matter if her water went cold. Afterwards, I read her as many stories as she wanted, all books we had received for free thanks to her preschool and our local library. I attempted to put her to bed, but she wasn't having it, and I didn't blame her. To be honest, my heart couldn't stand to be separated from her either.

So, I moved the couch near the open windows to help draw in the night air. I lay awake, sweating while she slept on my chest, staring at the ceiling, my mind replaying each and every awful second. She could have died. Camila could have died on bullshit we had nothing to do with.

From the apartment door came the familiar sound of a key sliding into its lock, followed by a distinct click, and I calmly watched as Lyra crept in. Her eyes immediately met mine, and the absolute sadness in them caused a sharp ache in my chest. She knew. How did Lyra already know what happened tonight?

She widened the door, and I wrapped my arms around Camila and sat up as Eric walked in behind her. I didn't want him in the same state as my sisters, let alone breathing the same air. Lyra crossed the room, gathered Camila in her arms, and our younger sister stirred just enough to confirm someone she trusted had her before falling back asleep.

"I'll take her," Lyra whispered, and she searched my face. "Please, listen and don't do anything stupid."

"Talk outside with me." Eric went out the door and I followed.

Outside, the night felt darker than ever before, more menacing. To keep myself from hauling off and hitting Eric in the jaw, I shoved my hands in my pockets.

"There's a street war brewing," Eric said. "Your dad, Marsh, and Lyra have asked me to protect all of you."

Fifty thousand dollars and I could protect my family on my own.

"I know you're going to say you don't need the protection, but your sister and Camila do. I can have someone trail Lyra to and from work. Have the apartment watched when Lyra and Camila are here alone. Let it be known that a hit on your family like the one that happened earlier today would be the same as taking a swipe at me."

My stomach turned with revulsion as this conversation had to mean I was entering a brand-new level of hell with Eric and, until now, I'd had no idea one existed.

Eric studied me and there was a flash of something unfamiliar from him. Sadness? Regret? "Do you remember when I used to take you fishing at the lake?"

As much as I didn't want to, I did. When I was a child, Eric made up for what Dad couldn't or wouldn't do. Showed up with groceries, took me shopping for clothes, showed interest in my day, and just plain spent time with me.

I had to look away from Eric because those lake trips, staying the weekend at his place, were still some of the best memories of my life. I loathed how the only times I'd felt safe as a child, felt loved—like I had something of worth inside me—had been with Eric.

"I consider you a son, Relic," Eric said so low I almost didn't hear him. "Never in a million years did I ever think you and I would be where we're at now."

"Where did you think we'd be?"

"With you working quickly up the ranks of my business. Being one of my best lieutenants. Becoming someone I'd pass this business to. Where did it go wrong?"

When I saw him order a man beat to death. When I heard that man's cries, when I heard him begging, sobbing for mercy, and how when I ran to help him, Eric grabbed me and told me to watch because I needed to see what happened to people who crossed him. Did he die? Eric later told me he didn't, but I had heard differently on the street. "You know where it went wrong."

Camila had just been born, and I could never have imagined her being forced to watch that, forced to live knowing she was powerless. I swore to myself then and there that I would never be a part of Eric's world, and neither would Camila.

Eric cursed under his breath and leaned against the aging metal railing. "I should have known you were too young. I should have been smarter." He stared out at the night, and I wondered what he saw. A decrepit neighborhood? The kingdom over which he ruled?

"Whether or not you want to admit it," Eric said, "you're mad that I allowed your father to go to prison. You're mad I didn't pull strings to keep him out, but he had to go. He screwed up too badly. If he hadn't gone to prison, I would have been forced to take him out."

Was Eric right? Was I mad at him for that? I studied him for a moment, but then decided he was wrong. I hated Eric, Dad or no Dad heading to prison.

"You have to be tired of this," Eric continued. "The constant struggle."

I was. Fucking exhausted.

"I'll keep you out of drugs," Eric offered. "If that's what your hold up is. I'll find something else for you to do until you're ready to move up."

I had said no to Eric countless times, every instance feeling dangerous, but this one felt like teetering on the edge of an active volcano. "I can't."

Eric rounded on me, stalked toward me, and got in my personal space. I straightened but didn't flinch. Toe to toe with me, Eric stared me down. "I can't protect you and your sisters if you don't."

"Why not?" I pushed. "Aren't you the king of these streets? If you say we don't get touched, shouldn't we be spared? Dad lives in this apartment by your decree. He works for you. Shouldn't my sisters be protected by his allegiance to you?"

"Your dad's a failure," Eric spat. "Barely holding on to his life by the thinnest of threads. You're the only reason I've kept him alive, because I can't have you blaming me for his death. I can't give you one more reason to turn from me. I have loved you like a son since you were born. I watched out for you when no one else would. Paid bills when you weren't looking. Spent the time with you that your father refused to give. When are you going to wake up and see I'm the only real family you have?"

"Family doesn't blackmail you into loving them," I dared to say.

My words bounced off him as he tilted his head to push closer to me. "I won't give you the benefits of my love without some respect. If you want your sisters safe, you work for me. You work your daddy shit out real quick and figure out that I'm the one who loves you. Stop being so stubborn. Is it worth sacrificing Lyra and Camila's lives just to stick the knife further into me because you're trying to punish me for hurting you?"

Eric stalked away from me then turned. "This war has the potential to be bloody. My enemies know how I care for you. That was what today was all about. To warn me what they will take out. I can't take back bullets, and you'll never forgive yourself if Lyra and Camila are caught in this war between us in the name of your stubbornness."

He left then, his booted feet thumping as he went down the stairs. Sick to my stomach, dazed in the head, I entered the living room and found Lyra sitting on the couch, a flickering candle highlighting her concern-ravaged face.

"Someone took a shot at me today," Lyra said quietly. "This evening when I left my car in the parking lot of the bar to head in to work. It scared the shit out of me."

I leaned back against the closed door of our apartment. I didn't need to ask her what time this happened as it had to be same time Camila and I were shot at—"warned."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"Why didn't I call you?" Bitterness dripped from her. "I was shot at, Relic. Shot at. So were you. So was Camila. Eric is the only way we're going to survive whatever bullshit is going on. I went to him, just like you should have. We need him."

Fuck that. "We don't."

"We need him," she shouted. "I don't want to die because you can't get over whatever shit you have with him. I'm your family. Camila is your family. It's time for you to grow up and protect us."

Rage shot through me. "I am protecting you and Camila. You think getting in with Eric is going to keep us safe? It's going to get us killed!"

"Not if you're smart! And you are smart. The most brilliant person I know. You out of anyone can navigate this life and stay alive. Please, Relic. Please don't leave us vulnerable. Please accept Eric's offer and get us out of this apartment and out of the danger we're in."

I felt like I swallowed a million-pound weight. I had no argument with my sister other than that I never wanted to work for Eric. I wanted more. Had hoped for more. I needed more. But my life didn't work that way.

Unable to look at her anymore, I left the apartment, went down the stairs, saw a baseball bat on the ground, picked it up and beat the hell out of the apartment complex Dumpster.

Loud bangs rang out into the night, and when the wooden bat splintered, I threw it across the parking lot and screamed out in fury and agony.

Fuck me. Just…fuck me.