Read Dirty Nails Online

Authors: Regina Bartley

Dirty Nails (8 page)

Ten- Accomplice

 

              I was on a mission, a truth mission. My parent’s blood was on someone’s hands and I needed closure.

              First things first…

              The cage.

              Sketch followed me down the stairs. I opened the door to the room, ready to start. For the first time since I’d been here, Max had failed. He left tracks. The body was still in the room. Maybe he was supposed to dispose of it last night and he got too wasted to do it. I gasped at the sight. It was brutal.

              Sketch pushed me back out of the way. “Dumb ass.” He said to no one in particular. Then the mumbling started. He pulled out his cell phone. “You get out.” He yelled at me.

              I stood just outside the door in the hallway.

              “Boss,” I heard him say. “We have a problem. The body is still in the cage. Yes she saw it. I know. Yes sir.” The conversation ended. I heard him moving around in there, but didn’t look to see what he was doing. “Fucking new shirt,” he yelled.

              “Shay! Get in here.”

              I walked back in the door. He had the body flipped over on it’s back, and I could see then that it was a girl. Her face was hardly recognizable. My thoughts were –what could this girl have done that was so bad? Not to mention that she was most likely defenseless against Max and his men. She wasn’t much bigger than me. It left a nasty taste in my mouth.

              “Stop staring and start helping.” He fussed.

              “What?” I looked at him then back at her. My arms were flapping around, because I couldn’t seem to find the right thing to do with them. I certainly couldn’t touch her. He was nuts.

              “Grab her feet.”

              Oh hell no.

              “You got something against dead people?” He asked. Was he kidding?

              “No, but I don’t want to touch her.”

              “For God sakes, just get her feet. We can’t very well leave her here. Max wants her moved and I told him I had it handled.”

              “Well, you, I,” shit I couldn’t find the right words.

              “Get her feet!” He yelled.

              He put his arms underneath her armpits and lifted. As he started to drag her across the room, I grabbed her feet. I couldn’t stand by and watch him drag her body around like she was a rag doll.

              I sucked in a deep breath and lifted her feet. We carried her up the stairs and another one of Max’s men was waiting just outside, and he took my place. Sketch gave me a knowing look before I turned to leave.

              What had I done?

              I ran back down stairs quickly and shut myself inside of the cage. I sunk down to the ground. Everything was swarming in fast. It was too much.

              I rocked back and forth wishing I was back in my bed and that I could wake up and start over. I touched a dead body. Did that make me an accomplice? These were the things that I wasn’t supposed to see or know. I wanted to remain in the dark, but now I know. Now I’ve seen. Her bloody face was going to haunt me. Who was she? Did she have a family?

              I needed my nails.

              I opened the door to the cage, but before I could even get to the stairs I met Max.

              “Going somewhere?”

              “I just needed a sip of water.”

              I was lying through my teeth. My hands were shaking at my side. Honestly I didn’t know if it was from his presence, my nerves, or the fact that he was standing in the way of me getting to my bag of nails. I was crack shy of being a junkie.

              “Hurry up. I want that room finished in case we need it tonight.”

              “Of course.”

              He moved roughly past me followed by two other guys. They were in a hurry otherwise he would have stood there longer to argue. He didn’t even ask where Sketch was, but I suppose he knew. Very few times had he let me linger around on my own, but surprisingly he didn’t say a word. He was on a mission, and so was I.

              I ran up the stairs two at a time. I didn’t acknowledge anyone along the way. Two minutes was all I needed.

              The bedroom door swung open and I rushed over to my bedside. I didn’t have to dig for my nails in the drawer. They were right on top were I’d left them. Squeezing the bag, I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in. I reached in and pulled out several of the nails, holding them tightly in my hand. Without any hesitation, I placed the pointed tips against my wrist and drug the nails halfway up my arm. It was sweet release. It wouldn’t take all of the hurt away, but it helped. I needed to just get the job done and then I’d be free to spend the rest of the night alone in my room.

              Sketch was waiting for me outside my bedroom as soon as I walked out. He didn’t say anything but he did look down at my arms. His expression was disappointment, but what could he expect. I had no one to talk to. I had all these fucked up emotions running through my head, and my life seemed to be one gigantic lie that I’d probably never know the truth about.

              For the first time since I had come to live here with Max, I was feeling trapped. It was a foreign feeling, and it scared me. This was my safety net. This was the one place that I had always felt like I was supposed to be, no matter how fucked up it was. Now I was questioning it.

              I’d never known anything but this life. Somewhere deep inside me I knew that it wasn’t normal. But what the hell is normal? Max gave me everything I needed, and I repaid him the only way I knew how.

              I had to stop thinking about it.

              “Distract me.” The words blurted out of my mouth.

              “Huh?” He said as we reached the cage.

              “Please, distract me.”

              He looked at me like I was crazy. I lowered myself to the floor with the spray bottle of bleach and a rag.

              “I take it that was your first encounter with a dead body?”

              My head snapped up.

             
Nice distraction.

             
“No it wasn’t.” I remembered my parents. “I don’t want to see one again though.” I continued to scrub the floor.

              “Why do you do it? The nails I mean.”

              “It takes away the pain.”

              “How long have you done it?”

              “A while.”

              “What made you do it this time?”

              “You ask a lot of questions?” I glanced up at him.

              “You wanted a distraction.”

              I still didn’t know how much I could trust him, or anyone for that matter. Yet, I kept talking. “Maybe it was because she was a young girl, or maybe it was because I felt like it made me an accomplice, or maybe it’s because this is all too much too fast.” I fought back the tears.

              I looked up at him. “Why won’t you tell me what you know? It makes it look like you’re involved you know?” I questioned.

              “I can’t.”

              “Right, you can’t.” I rolled my eyes, and shook my head.

“It’s complicated.”

              “You want to talk about complicated. My parents are dead, and I just saw the man that killed them. I don’t know if Max is involved. I don’t know if you’re involved. I don’t know anything.” I slammed the rag harder to the ground. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

              The tears slid down my cheek.

              “Fourteen years.” I cried. “Fourteen years I have been here Sketch. Was it all a lie, or does he know nothing? Tell me!” I sucked in a deep breath, but it was no use. My arm went across my face to muffle my cries.

              I felt his hand touch my shoulder.

              “No!” I growled. “Don’t. Get off me.” My voice was angry. “You are just as much involved as the rest of them. You can all go to hell.”

              I wiped my face and finished cleaning the damn room. I needed to get away from him and his mumbling. My already messed up brain couldn’t handle it. If only he could talk to me the way that he talked to himself.

             

Eleven- Even a fever won’t stop him

 

              The next few days passed in a blur. I found myself just going through the motions, not really putting any effort into my days. I did everything Max asked me to do, without hesitating. The last thing I needed was for him to be on my case about something. Stirring up too many emotions in that man could lead to trouble with a capitol T. I tried to act like nothing was off, like I was just fine. But inside I was crumbling, falling apart at the seams. He was obviously too busy to notice. I didn’t eat and I avoided people like the plague. With every day that passed I pushed the idea of Max being involved in my parents death farther and farther back in my head. The thought seemed unfathomable. I wasn’t going to let myself believe it. I needed proof. This place was as tight as Fort Knox with security. I wouldn’t be able to snoop until he was gone for business. Until then, I would just breathe, and do what I was told.

Sketch never bothered talking to me either. Something was up with him and Max. I didn’t bother asking though. Those two always seemed to be up to something. The busier they were, the less they noticed me. I could handle that.

When I woke up this morning, my head was pounding. I didn’t even want to lift it off the pillow. I was freezing, but my body was sweating all over. I don’t ever remember feeling that sick. My head would barely lift above the pillow.

I stayed in the bed for as long as I could. Eventually I had to get up before someone came looking for me.

My body was so cold. I slipped on a hoodie and a pair of loose fitting sweatpants. There was a knock on my door, and when I stepped out of the bathroom Sketch was already standing inside. He hadn’t waited for me to open the door.

“Max is looking for you. Jared has been standing outside the door for hours.”

I stumbled across the floor, barely able to lift my feet.

“Shay, what’s wrong?” He rushed over to me.

His hands reached for my face. “You’re burning up.”

“I don’t feel good Sketch.”

The lines in his forehead bunched together in concern. “You need to lie down Shay. I’ll go let Max know. Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere.” I grabbed his outstretched hand and let him help me back into the bed. My head felt like it might explode.

“Just lay down. Don’t get up. I’m going to get Max now.”

I didn’t reply, just looked into his eyes. The moment didn’t last long. My eyes were too heavy to keep open. He drifted away quickly.

Not sure how long I had lain there before Max came in.

The door made a loud bang and roused me.

“What are you doing Shay? You’ve been acting weird for days, now you’re sick.” So he did notice.

I slid my hand up to my ear to try and help drown out his loud voice.

“Get up. You’re fine.”

“She’s clearly not. Look at her. She needs a doctor.” Sketch said from across the room.

In a flash Max had Sketch slammed against the wall. “I suggest you keep your mouth shut.”

What the fuck?

Max was beyond angry. Carefully I slid my legs from under the cover and over the side of the bed. Sketch was eyeing me. Max’s hand was still wrapped around his throat. I could tell by the look on his face that he was about to break Max. Literally tear him to shreds. He could probably do it, being the beast and all. The only problem was that Max was a trained killer. He’d be gone in a second if he didn’t shut up.

“I’m up,” I called out.

Max let go of Sketch. His eyes were like icicles, cold and dagger like.

“Enough of this nonsense Shay. I don’t have time for this.” His arms were moving quickly and he couldn’t focus. I’d seen him like this before. He was tripping the hell out. It scared me. It happened when he got angry. He’d just flip.

              I stood up slowly.

              “You have work to do.” He yanked my arm.

              “Please Max, you’re hurting me.”

              “I said I don’t have time for this.”

              He pushed me hard. I lost my balance and fell to the floor. There was no way I could move. My whole body ached all over.

              I couldn’t get up.

              I couldn’t.

              “It hurts huh.” He kicked me. “Does this hurt? Huh? What about now?” He kept kicking me.

              I sank down further.

              It hurt.

              It hurt so much.

              Each blow came harder and faster than the next. My vision started going and I felt like I was drifting outside of my own body.

              I cried, but I don’t know how I managed to do even that. The pain was too much.

              Why?

             
Stop please.
I thought, but I couldn’t manage to say the words. They replayed over and over in my mind.

              I opened my eyes, and watched as Sketch’s black boots walked away. He didn’t stay.

             
Please don’t go.

             
“Ahhhh,” I yelled out when he picked my head up off the floor by my hair.

              “You’re a worthless cunt. I needed you today. I fucking needed you. You’re useless. You want to sleep, then fucking sleep.”

              One hard slam of my head to the ground was the last thing I remembered.

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