“Make yourself at home. It might help you relax.” Rellik stepped around me and walked to another guitar that was propped against the far wall. He picked it up by the neck and sat down on an oversized chair. I awkwardly stood next to the door as Hangman’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing me. It probably wasn’t often a woman was standoffish with them.
Rellik strummed the acoustic guitar as he began to sing, low and gravelly. His eyebrows pulled together as if in pain as he continued. I forced myself to relax as I began to walk toward him. The anguish and torture in his voice spoke to me. It was like he had unraveled all of my secrets and strung them together, set to a slow, steady beat that kept in time with my pulse. It wasn’t anything like I expected from him after seeing how violent he could become just moments before.
Fighting away your fears, screams falling on deaf ears.
Heaven help what we’ve become.
Trampled and crushed dreams, nothing was what it seems.
Our world has come undone.
Hangman slid over to make room for me on the long couch, and I sat down, keeping my distance from him and a clear view of the door. He held out the joint again, and I reluctantly took it, nearly letting it slip through my shaky fingers. I looked to Rellik as I put it to my lips, sputtering and coughing as soon as the smoke filled my lungs. It felt like my chest was gripped in a vice, and I struggled, desperate for fresh air. I’d smoked weed before, but what I got was lawn clippings compared to this.
“Whoa.” Rellik grabbed a bottle of water from the stand beside the couch and held it out for me. I took it gratefully and guzzled it down. He continued playing, his voice like liquid honey, and my head began to swim as I handed the joint back to Hangman.
“So what’s your story?”
Baby, just let me in, I can wash away our sins.
I know no other way.
I looked to Rellik, who was watching me as he sang, and I had no idea what to say. It was a loaded question that was impossible to answer because I didn’t have an identity anymore.
“I’m a blank page.”
“Deep.” Hangman took another hit from the joint.
“So why do they call you Hangman?”
He raised his chin to the light so I could see the very faded scar that circled his neck. “Fucking intense, right?” He laughed, and I tried to keep the shock from my face.
The music stopped abruptly as two men entered, and I was glad for the end to the odd conversation.
“Look who decided to show,” the larger of the two said. He was well over six foot tall, and he must have worked out obsessively. A thick, black, paint stripe that matched his short hair ran down the length of his face just beside his nose, and it made him look absolutely terrifying.
“You knew I’d be back,” Rellik replied, blowing off the stern look from the tallest one. “Phantom, this is Ella.” He motioned to me, and the large man glanced in my direction, his eyes narrowing as if he knew me but couldn’t place me.
“Phantom.” I smiled. “Like Phantom of the Opera!”
“Glad to see you’re still in one piece,” he said with no humor, and I realized he must have been the other man across the alley.
“Thank you.”
“No thanks to you,” Rellik chimed in, and Phantom gave him a death glare. “Not that I needed any help. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
“I’m Trig,” the other man said. His hair was much like Hangman’s but brushed back so it didn’t hang in his eyes, and he wore a set of silver dog tags around his neck over a plain white T-shirt. All four of them wore weathered jeans. My eyebrows furrowed, but I couldn’t figure his name out. “As in Trigger.” He grabbed his dog tags to show me he had been in the military.
“Nice to meet you.” I cleared my throat before taking another drink from the water bottle. He nodded, and they both looked to Rellik.
“Your hands look like shit,” Trigger said.
“You should see the guy’s face, but to be fair, he wasn’t very pretty to begin with.” He glanced up at Trig with a playful grin absent of any remorse. The idea that he could brush off something like that made me envious and a little frightened.
Phantom ran his hand roughly through his short, dark hair, clearly frustrated with Rellik, but he didn’t say anything.
“Here.” Rellik dug into his pocket and pulled out a pill bottle, tossing it to Trig. “You can’t just go off your meds, Trigger. You know your head gets all f**ked up when you don’t take them.”
“What are you, my f**king mom now?” Trig asked as he shook his head, but his smile gave away that he appreciated the gesture. My eyes met Rellik’s, and I couldn’t help but smile myself as he cocked his eyebrow.
“One ugly mother,” Hangman joked, his laugh turning into a cough as he fell on his side.
“There’s got to be a first aid kit around here.” I was getting whiplash from Rellik’s personality.
“Don’t worry about it. We need to rehearse,” Rellik replied, and the room was silent for a minute before I pushed to my feet, water in hand, and searched out something I could use to help wipe away the dried blood. He clearly wasn’t accustomed to anyone taking care of him, and I could understand his apprehension.
“You’ve come over to the dark side. Tired of the bleach smell from those other bitches?” one of them said behind me, and I tried not to cringe at how they spoke as if I weren’t a person. Of course he was into dumb blondes. Did other women really tolerate this?
I grabbed some napkins and silently took mental note of what type of females they generally hung out with, hating that my stomach sank when I looked down at my dark tresses. It was important to read people and learn everything about them as quickly as possible. It’s how you survived. You blend in, not stand out. Making the napkins damp, I crossed the room and knelt down in front of him. I looked up at him as I reached for his hand, and he let me pull it away from the guitar. I carefully ran it over his injured hand, and he tensed as I ran over a knuckle that was clearly swollen more than the others. The guys began to chat among themselves about the show, and Rellik leaned closer to me as I took his other hand.
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“You didn’t have to help me either, but you did. It’s rare.” I hated to admit that I had needed him there. I scrubbed off as much of the blood as I could, and luckily most of it wasn’t his own. “That’s better.” I pushed to my feet and let go of his hand, his calloused fingertips sliding over mine. He had worked hard for what he has. It wasn’t handed to him. I wadded up the napkins and tossed them in a small trash bin along the wall. The guys all settled into the couch, and I sat in a folding chair along the wall as they began to go over their set list.
My brain was a fuzzy haze, and none of what happened tonight seemed real. But tomorrow I would have to face the consequences of what had transpired, as it would undoubtedly manifest into nightmares and anxiety. The unease began to spread. Panic settled deep in a knot in my belly and slowly spidered through my veins like poison. I began to count, whispering rapidly under my breath. I should have known better than to use drugs that only exacerbate paranoia and fear.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Rellik lifted the guitar from his lap and sat it on the floor beside him as he stood. “Are you all right?” he asked. His voice echoed in my mind. I stood, wobbling on my feet as I became lightheaded and panicked.
“I’m fine. I just…need some fresh air. I must have hit my head harder than I realized.”
Catalyst
Chapter 8—Rellik
Catalyst: a person or thing that precipitates an event
“What the f**k was in that weed, Hang?” Trigger asked as I stood in front of Ella, examining her.
“The shock is wearing off,” I called over my shoulder.
“Chicks are too f**king delicate,” Hangman joked. Clearly he had smoked away his sensitivity.
“I’m fine,” she mumbled but wouldn’t look me in the eye as she turned for the door. I looked back at the guys, knowing if she left now, she would break down and have no one to turn to. “It’s just a panic attack. It’s not a big deal.”
“Let me take you home or something.” I clenched my jaw, knowing I was going to delay the concert, but I couldn’t just let her go.
“No. Maric will fire me.”
“I can handle Maric.”
“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.”
“Clearly you do.”
“Rellik,” Phantom called out, and the deep bass in his voice caused Ella to jump, her hand on her chest if trying to keep her heart from escaping. “She doesn’t want your help. Let it go.”
I turned to her and took a deep breath, forcing myself to bury growing anger toward him. “I’ll walk you out.” I stepped to her side and placed my hand on the small of her back, urging her forward and into the hall. “I’ll be right back,” I promised the guys with empty words. I had no choice. The look in her eye might have been from different circumstances, but I’d seen it in my own reflection. I knew what it felt like to be screaming for someone, anyone, to give a f**k about you.
“You know that’s not what I’m worried about,” Phantom said quietly as I pulled the door closed behind us.
I knew her resemblance to Katie was clouding my judgment, but I had to help her. What kind of person would I be if I had left her in that alley? It wasn’t about Katie. It wasn’t.
“Thank you,” she said as we walked through the mint-colored labyrinth of hallways to the back exit. I could hear her counting her footsteps under her breath. As we hit the warm night air behind the parking lot, I pulled one of the security aside.
“I need the car.”
He nodded and spoke into his earpiece. Ella looked like she was falling apart, and I wanted to be able to comfort her, but playing the nice guy wasn’t something I had a lot of experience at. I had saved her and that would have to be enough. I wasn’t wired any other way. Within minutes a black SUV pulled up beside us, and the guard driving got out and walked around the car to open the passenger door.
“You’re not listening to me. I’m not leaving. I just need some air.” Something was bothering her, and I wasn’t sure the attack in the alley was the catalyst. This chick didn’t seem like the type to cower in a corner to lick her wounds.
“Fine.” I motioned to the man, and the car was taken back to the employee lot. I leaned against the metal exterior of the building, the wall still holding in the heat from an unbearable day. She pressed her back against the wall next to me as I pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, popping one in my mouth.
“Those will kill you.” She folded her arms over her chest, hugging herself.
“I’m touched you care.” I pulled it from my mouth and flipped it over in my hand. “I haven’t lit one in six months. I like knowing I can if I want to.”
“So you’re spoiled. Used to always getting what you want.”
“No.” I shook my head as I broke the cigarette in half and glanced over at her. “Not always.”
“Thank you. I’m not sure I said it back there, but thank you for helping me.”
“It’s not easy to admit we need help sometimes. I get it.” I knew it was hard for her to say the words. She was damn near as stubborn as I was.
“But I was rude. It wasn’t fair.”
“Christ, I think I liked it better when you were mean. Why the change?”
“Not used to people being nice to you?”
“Not genuinely. They usually want something in return. I kind of like this whole bitchy thing you had going on.” We fell silent as I thought that over. There was less guilt when she didn’t like me.
“So, being in a band? That’s kind of crazy, huh?”
“It sounds a lot better than it is. I like what I do, and I never wanted…uh…never wanted to do anything else.” My eyebrows pulled together, and I swallowed hard as I struggled to keep my thoughts at bay. “But it’s work, like anything else. It’s lonely.”
“Still, must be nice to get to do what you love.”
“Love.” I cringed, struggling to keep a pained expression from my face, but the back door opened, and Hangman stuck his head outside. “It’s just a job.”
“We gotta go, man.” Hangman let the door slam behind him, and my gaze fell to Ella.
“You okay? We can stay out here if you want.”
“Why doesn’t it bother you about, you know, what you did to that guy?”
“It does bother me.”
“You can’t tell.”
“No offense, but you don’t know me, Ella. Beating up some ass**le for manhandling a woman doesn’t rank on my list of things to give a shit about. It bothers me, but not for the reason it should.” I turned back around to the door, pulling it open for her.
“I just want to make sure you’re one of the good guys.” She stepped inside, and I followed behind her.
“I’m not.” Ella’s resemblance to Katie was kicking my mind into overdrive. It was like she was the blade on my veins, and every second was a push against my flesh.
* *
“You don’t need to handcuff him. He’s a good kid!” My mom was panicking as tears streamed down her face. “Do something!” Mr. Thomas had his arm around her.
“I can assure you this is just a case of boys roughhousing,” he said. “Let me call Bryce’s parents. I’m sure we can work this out on our own.”