Messy Love(95)

***





MARISSA


I tried talking, but the gag made it impossible. I tugged on my hands, but the plastic cuffs restrained me. I stopped when the bite of the plastic in my wrists turned vicious and tingles spread in the tips of my fingers.

My only option was to look at the man that kept me prisoner, while he smirked down at me after dropping a bomb I couldn’t possibly understand.

What had my biological father anything to do with Wyatt’s father? What the hell was wrong here?

“Is it frustrating? Not being able to talk or move, I mean.’’

His smirk widened and turned more wicked if that was possible. Or maybe that was because the lights in the apartment were nonexistent. Save for the lights from the city, the room was in the dark, and only his cell phone’s screen erratically lighting up broke the night to shed a cold glow on his face.

He lit another cigarette and blew smoke in my direction.

“Let me tell you a story, cutie.’’ He took out of his jeans a flask and had a long sip. No sooner had the liquor fallen down his throat that he brought his cigarette to his mouth.

“Over the years I’ve been crossed or betrayed a handful of times. The first time was when I was nineteen by a junkie dealer who was out of drugs. He jumped me and beat me to a pulp before he stole my stash and put me in a very tight position with my boss. The second time was a few years later when Wyatt’s mother left me for one of my enemies and they fled to Los Angeles, or they tried. The fourth time was just today when my son, my blood, snitched to the cops. Now, you must be wondering what about the third time.’’ He brought the flask to his mouth and threw his head back to drink. His lips, still smirking, glistened from the liquor. “The third time was maybe over six years ago, and the man that betrayed me was none other than your biological father.’’ He pointed at me. “You don’t look too much like him other than your hair and the cheekbones, I guess.’’ He squinted then. “Anyway, do you know what all of them have in common save for my son? They’re dead.’’

My eyes filled with more tears and my breathing accelerated, but my lungs burned with the panic attack that grew from my guts to spread in my veins to reach every part of my body. I knew where it was going. I knew what he meant.

“Yes, cutie. You’re a smart one.’’ He disposed of the ashes at the tip of his cigarette on the disgusting floor. “I’ve killed a kid, my ex-wife, your biological father and I’m going to end my son's life because nobody crosses me. Nobody. But don’t worry. I know you’ve fallen for my son, so I won’t let you suffer too long. In fact, I think I’ll start by killing you first, and I’ll have Wyatt watch when I put a bullet in that pretty head of yours.’’

Bile rose in my throat, and my whimper didn’t help my cause. If anything, it made him laugh harder, the sound composed of the worst that human beings were capable of and so cold it iced me. “It won’t take long now. He’s on his way.’’

That was what I was afraid.

I had doubted Wyatt before. I quickly blamed him and saw him as an asshole who hurt me just for the sake of it, but when it came to it, I had not an ounce of doubt that he would come to get me.

I also didn’t doubt it would cost him his life.

***





WYATT


I was eight-years-old the last time I was in this crappy neighborhood, and I still remembered it like it was just yesterday. The smell of piss, garbage and mold permeated the air, filling my lungs and dirtying me from the inside.

The building where I used to live stood more dilapidated than it had already been and no windows were lit but a couple in the last levels. That made me doubt for a moment because the windows to the old apartment I shared with my biological father were on the fourth floor and none were lit. There was nothing up there to betray someone’s presence, but then my eyes found Tim leaning against the wall near the building's door and my doubts vanished.

I jogged to him and resisted the urge to punch him until he begged me to stop, until I drew blood and satiated my need to crush the people implicated in involving Marissa in this fucking horror show.

But I didn’t touch him. I clenched my vibrating hands into tight fists at my sides and glared at him.

“You don’t look so hot, Wyatt. It’s tough to be on the losing end, isn’t it?’’

“Shut up,’’ I snapped and bit down on my tongue when curses threatened to leave my mouth. “Where is she?’’

Tim's chapped lips turned down, and his frown deepened. That wasn’t the expression I expected to find on the guy who hated my guts more than anything.

“Is she… She isn’t…’’ I asked, my voice choked as dread took a life of its own and fogged up the world around me.

“Not yet, but daddy dearest isn’t messing around.’’

I blew out some air and nodded. “Aren’t you happy to be on my father’s power trip?’’

Tim rubbed his sweaty forehead, and I noticed the trembling in his hands that had nothing to do with my own. His came from the need for another fix. “This is pushing it. Fucking with you and giving you hell is one thing, grabbing a girl and threatening to kill her? That’s something else. I’m not too far gone with drugs to be okay with it.’’