Shelter(20)

The cut above his eye had crusted over badly. The skin underneath was already purple and blue. Jin cleaned off the dried blood and put a bandage over the open wound, but there was no mistaking it was there, no mistaking the bruises forming around his nose. He couldn’t hide the fact that something had happened to him, which wasn’t entirely bad. Jin thought someone at the bank might notice and call the police. Just as he was beginning to feel optimistic about this, Nat opened the door to the master bedroom and shoved him inside. Mae was tied to her bed, splayed like an X, faceup. Marina was on the other bed, tied the same way but facedown. Both of them were naked. Nat tightened his grip on Jin’s arm. I’m leaving the gun with my brother, he said. But if you pull anything at the bank, something bad’s going to happen here.

Jin promised to cooperate. He’d do whatever they asked, give them anything they wanted. Dell kept pacing back and forth beside Mae’s bed. He seemed twitchy, agitated. Come back quick, he said. Then he walked over to Mae and yanked out a patch of her pubic hair. The sound of her wailing, even with her mouth taped shut—it was the worst thing Jin had ever heard. You understand what I’m saying? Dell asked, pulling out another. Come back quick. Nat squeezed Jin’s shoulder. That’s what the tweaked-out f*cker can do with his hands, he said. Imagine if I gave him a knife.

Dell continued pacing around the room after they left, muttering to himself like a homeless person on the street. Dummy, he kept saying. Big f*cking dummy. Mae didn’t know what he was talking about. She wondered how many of those little packets he’d gone through. There weren’t any left on the end table; the torn envelopes were scattered across the floor. Dell kept studying what was left of Nat’s drugs, walking back and forth to the bureau like a child who knew better. Mae didn’t want him to use them, not if they made him act like his brother. The things Nat had done to Marina—Mae had to crane her head to the side to see if she was still breathing. For a long time, she thought she was dead. Dell left the room and returned several minutes later with something in his fist. She watched him in the mirror, holding a spoon over his lighter and drawing the melted drugs into his syringe. She didn’t like how hesitant he was. She didn’t understand it. Dell didn’t seem like the kind of person who cared about risk. Her only guess was that he didn’t want Nat to be angry with him for taking something that wasn’t his. Dell took the syringe into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. She braced herself for when he came out, but almost an hour passed, and nothing happened.

Mae knew the men had no intention of letting them go, not that they’d ever humored her with the possibility. They’d been too careless from the start. She’d seen their faces, knew their names, carried the shame of them on her body. She wondered if Marina had a roommate or boyfriend who might notice she was missing, but she didn’t want to waste what little time she had left wishing for something so unlikely. No one had called in days. No one was going to come looking for them until it was too late. She felt guilty for leading the men to the house. It was her fault that everything had happened as it did. She tried to say the Lord’s Prayer, but she couldn’t remember the words. All she could do was accept the death that she knew was coming. At the very least, she wanted the men to bury her or throw her body off a bridge so that strangers wouldn’t have to find her naked and tied to her bed.

During the drive to the bank, Jin kept thinking about what they’d done to her, to Mae and Marina both. The trip downtown was his last chance to save them. He just didn’t know how. He thought about slipping the teller a note, but Nat said he’d be standing behind him in line, watching everything he did. Then Jin mentioned the twenty thousand in his checking account. He knew a withdrawal that large would raise a flag, but when he suggested taking out the full amount, Nat just shook his head. Five thousand, he said. Five thousand won’t make anyone blink, not with a rich guy like you. Nat’s thoughts seemed to be in lockstep with his, canceling out every option for escape as soon as he came up with one. His last hope faded when they pulled into the parking lot and Nat handed him a pair of sunglasses from the glove compartment. Keep those on the entire time, he said. Don’t want anyone to start asking about your shiners.

There were two tellers working at the window when Jin approached—one that he vaguely recognized, and another with the word TRAINEE printed on her name tag. They exchanged a short greeting as Jin slid his card across the counter and asked for five thousand dollars in cash. The older woman guided the younger one through the transaction, pointing at things on the computer. Jin wanted them to look at him and see the panic on his face, but neither of them did. All they cared about was the list of steps on the screen—do this, then that; check off this line and then the other. It took only a few minutes for the trainee to process his request, count out the money in neat stacks of hundred-dollar bills, and send him away with a thick envelope. Jin considered running for it—Nat didn’t have the gun—but he worried what they would do to Mae if he didn’t come back.

In the car, Nat counted out the money, smiling as he fanned the new bills against his thumb, admiring their crispness, their smell. It occurred to Jin that this was all their lives were worth. Five thousand dollars, money that would probably be gone in a few days, spent on drugs and alcohol and who knew what else. He didn’t remember driving home or walking inside or sitting down in the kitchen so Nat could tie him up again. All of these things happened—they must have happened—but everything after the bank was a blur to him. The only thing Jin remembered for certain was the scream he heard when Nat went upstairs.