Six Guns: Volume One Page 10

  Another woman came into the bathroom. She smiled at me as she entered a stall. I tossed the paper towel onto a pile of garbage and exited, heading back to my desk. How was I going to get rid of Mark for good? He’d never agree to a divorce. There was really only one solution in my mind—Mark was going to have to die.

  19

  CAIN

  I was standing in the dark outside of Carmine’s place. I put the cigarette back up to my lips again and inhaled. The light from inside filtered out of the windows as I saw bodies move past. The thump of the music blared. Everyone else was inside partying it up, drowning out the horrors from the day. I, on the other hand, wasn’t in the mood to party. I didn’t want to be around anyone, and I sure as hell didn’t feel like making chit-chat with anyone.

  “Hey.”

  I glanced up as a girl shut the front door behind her and headed my way. She pulled her short leather jacket more tightly around her, as if realizing how cold it was out here. I was numb to the cold right now. I was numb to everything around me.

  She smiled as she removed a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. She pinched one between her long fingernails and dug her other hand in her pocket. “Huh,” she said. “I can’t seem to find my lighter.”

  I retrieved mine from my front jeans pocket and held it up in the air. She leaned over with the cigarette in between her lips as I flicked on the flame.

  “Thanks,” she said, moving back.

  I put the lighter away. “No problem.”

  “Cindy.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  She laughed. “I’m Cindy.”

  “Oh.” I attempted to smile back. “Nicky.”

  “Nicky Cain, I know,” she replied, her eyes studying my face as I took another hit.

  “Yeah, that’s me.”

  “What are you doing out here all by yourself? Shouldn’t you be inside with your friends?”

  I stared out into the darkness across the line of cars parked down Carmine’s blacktopped lane.

  “Rough day.”

  “I get like that sometimes. I usually just want to be alone.”

  “Uh-huh,” I mumbled, taking my last hit and tossing the butt of the cigarette into the damp grass. I’m sure there was some sort of rule against tossing shit into Carmine’s lawn, but I didn’t care right now. I started to step past the girl to get to the front door, but she put her hand up against my chest to stop me.

  “Where you going? You’re not leaving me, are you?” she whined.

  I exhaled, smoke pouring down in her face. “Listen, I just want to be by myself.”

  She stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. That face annoyed the hell out of me. “You’re not going to be alone if you go in there.” She let her hand fall down to my waistline and rest against my belt buckle. “We can go somewhere quiet. We don’t have to talk at all.”

  My temper flared.

  “All those skanks in there are itching to get their claws into you. Why not let me sink my claws into you first?” She breathed out, her smoke drifting up into my nostrils.

  “You like being here, Cindy, being able to party with all us guys?” I questioned her.

  She grinned. “I love it.”

  “You want to be able to keep coming here?”

  She lowered her eyebrows. “Of course.” She giggled.

  “Then I suggest you quit annoying the fuck out of me and go away.” I pulled the cigarette out of her fingers and tossed it away. “Go.” I pointed toward the door. “Now.”

  She gave me that pouty face again, and I ran my fingers through my hair as my irritation only grew at her still standing there. Finally, after a few moments, she got the hint and walked away, her high heels clicking angrily against the blacktop as she went.

  The door opened and Seton came outside. The girl called Cindy bumped into his shoulder as she stepped up into the house. Seton gave me a questioning glance as he moved my way. Great. I should just get in my car and go home. Seton was the last person I wanted to see right now.

  “We need to talk, Nicky,” he said, sitting down on a bench.

  “I think I’m gonna take off,” I told him, shoving my hands into my coat pockets.

  “Sit,” Seton instructed me.

  I huffed but slid down onto the bench beside him.

  “You did good today, kid,” Seton said.

  I crunched my hands into fists inside my pockets. “Yeah, well, I’m still pretty pissed about it.”

  “I know what you’re going through. The first time is always like that. You feel like total shit right now, but let me tell you this, as you go on, it gets easier and easier.”

  I snorted. “Gee, thanks, Seton, you’ve given me such hope for my future.”

  He gave me an angry glare. “I’m serious, Cain.”

  “You just kill so many times that you become numb to the whole thing, huh?” I asked, hitting the sarcasm heavily.

  Seton shrugged. “It is what it is.”

  “What you did to me today was bullshit pulling that on me. It’s not so much that you wanted me to kill him, it’s that you forced me to do it.”

  “It had to be done.”

  “It didn’t, at least not by me. I specifically told you I didn’t even want a fucking gun. I didn’t know that guy. If I’m going to kill someone, I’m going to need to know for myself that he fucking deserves it. I’m not going to pull the trigger for you next time. I’m going to just leave,” I said, all of my frustrations spilling out of me as I flashed back to earlier in the day when I had pulled that trigger, felt the warm blood squirt up on my hands, my arms, my neck and opened my eyes to the chaos of death that had been created by my own two hands. I closed my eyes for a second. I wasn’t about to act like a pussy here in front of Seton.

  He remained silent for a few minutes. “Hey, you accepted your position. Consider it initiation.”

  I spit on the ground. “Fuck that.”

  “So, let me get this straight. Here I thought you were moping around because you killed someone, but really it’s you have a problem with authority, with my telling you to do it?” He stared at me. “You having second thoughts about the group, Cain? Because you’re going to fucking deal with me telling you what to do, and you’re going to fucking do it every time.”

  “More like third and fourth thoughts.”

  “Your mouth is starting to piss me off, Cain.”

  “Fuck you, Seton.”

  He growled and turned his entire body to face mine on the bench. “No one gets away with talking to me like that. I should knock your fucking teeth out.”

  His eyes were intense as hell. I should’ve bitten my tongue and not said that, but I was still so pissed about what he’d done to me today. “Relax, man,” I told him, removing another cigarette from my pocket and lighting it up.

  Seton yanked at his coat and faced forward again. He took a couple of deep breaths. I could just imagine that vein sticking out again underneath his collar. This guy had a short fuse and was a little unstable.

  “I’ll give you the newbie card for tonight,” he huffed out, still trying to regain control over himself. “But next time you won’t be so lucky.”

  I didn’t say anything, just sat there and burned one.

  The music got louder as the front door opened and out came Hagan and Augie.

  “He’s out here!” Hagan bellowed out. An entire crowd of girls followed behind him. They circled the bench. “There you are, Cain. We’ve been looking for you. Why aren’t you inside?”

  “And why the hell don’t you have a beer?” one of the girls asked, handing me one. She smiled and put her hands on her hips. “That’s more like it.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  Hagan’s eyes shifted from Seton to me. “Oh, I get it. You’re in need of a little cheering up. Is that right?”

  I didn’t reply as Seton stood up and a girl handed him a drink, too.

  “I know what’ll cheer him up,” Seton stated.

  I looked up at
him, my eyebrows raised.

  Seton got a lopsided smirk on his face. He pushed forward a busty blonde chick with pink streaks through her hair my way. She was wearing a tight little blue dress and knee-high boots. She was cute and bent over to give me a kiss on the cheek.

  Hagan and Augie burst out laughing. “That’ll work,” Hagan said. “A woman will always be able to take your mind off of anything—anything at all.”

  “Come on, Nicky,” she whispered, linking her arm in mine.

  I succumbed to the peer pressure and stood up, letting the girl lead me back into Carmine’s place.

  20

  CROSS

  It had been almost a full week since I’d last seen Mark. I was grateful for being able to come to the house after work and have a little bit of a refuge. I was starting to believe that he ran off with his little—or not so little—Spanish skank and that they’d go have a million little Mexican babies and I’d never have to hear from him again.

  I put on a pair of comfy gray yoga pants and an old white tee I had had since college. I opened up one of the cupboards and searched in the back. Oh, thank god. There it was. I had put this bottle of wine back here for safe keeping a long time ago and was so happy it was still there. I wasn’t going to think about anything tonight. I was going to drink a few glasses—or maybe even the whole bottle, enough that I could get sleepy enough to pass out on the couch. I deserved some relaxation after finding out my husband had gotten someone else pregnant and after being forced to see Rich’s face every day this week.

  I placed the wine on the coffee table and collapsed onto the puffy off-white couch. I flipped through some TV stations. I was hoping to find an old romantic movie, something that could revive my faith in humanity again, especially in love, which I wasn’t so sure even existed. It’s funny how after college, after real life begins with a job and house, you soon realize that life totally bites. It’s all downhill from there. I wish I could go back and savor every moment of being a teen and be able to tell myself that before Mark, I was truly at my most vibrant point in life. Then again, if I could go back and tell myself that, I’d also tell myself to stay the hell away from that lazy piece of crap. Maybe I’d still have some vigor left in me if I hadn’t let that soul-sucker into my life.

  I sighed. Damn it. I was supposed to be relaxing, drinking, watching some television and not thinking, especially about him. I felt a tension headache begin to form, so I quickly reached for my glass and downed a little more wine. It was dry and stuck to the roof of my mouth slightly and I reached for the bottle again to make up for the emptiness that was now in my glass.

  There was nothing on TV. Of course there wouldn’t be when I actually took the time to sit down and watch it for once. I turned it to a news station and leaned my head back, closing my eyes.

  The front door swung open. My entire body jerked up into an instant sitting position and I watched in horror as in strolled Mark. He was carrying an infant car seat. I couldn’t even move—it was as if I were frozen in place. He ignored my look of shock and put down the car seat. The seat was now facing me, and sure enough, in it was a baby, all bundled up.

  “What the—?” I mumbled, standing up to get a better look at what he had just brought through the door.

  “Hi, honey.” Mark grinned. “Miss me?” He took a blue checkered diaper bag off his shoulder and set it down on the floor, too.

  “No, I didn’t,” I snapped. “Why are you here?”

  He pretended to look hurt by my words. “Me? I live here, sweetie, remember?”

  “I thought…”

  “I was gone? It pains me to know you haven’t been sitting here worried about where I was.”

  “Shut up, Mark. I’m serious, get out,” I said firmly, “and take whatever that is with you.” I stared back down at the baby that was fast asleep.

  He took off his coat and tossed it onto the back of the recliner. “That is a baby—my baby, in fact. Rita had him this week, but she got sick and is back in the hospital, so being the wonderful father that I am, I’m taking care of the little guy until his mama gets all better.”

  “Rita?” I asked.

  “You know, you met her,” he reminded me, “when you tried to attack me the other week.”

  Great. The Spanish whore had a name. “Stay at her house. You can’t be here with a baby.”

  “If you have to know the details, Lilah, Rita’s house is being foreclosed. I can be here. This is my house. You wouldn’t want a poor little baby out in the cold, would you? Come on, Lilah, I know there’s a heart in there somewhere.” He came over and poked me in the chest.

  I swatted his hand away and gave him an angry glare. “I’m sure you can figure out someone else to stay with. Shouldn’t Rita have like a hundred other family members? Surely one of them will take you and your new son in.”

  He shrugged. “Listen, babe, can you run me a warm bath? I’m beat.”

  “Go to hell, Mark.”

  He grinned. “Did you know that newborns are up almost every three hours to eat during the night? It’s crazy, and I’m exhausted.” He headed toward the bedroom. “I’m going to go pass out for a little while. You don’t mind watching him for me, do you?”

  I just stood there with my mouth gaping open, appalled that he would even suggest such a thing. “You’re not leaving him here with me, Mark.”

  He ignored me as I followed him into the bedroom. He plopped down on the bed on his stomach, his greasy cheek scraping across my pillow. I cringed.

  “Mark, get up!” I yelled, shaking him. “I said get up!”

  He moaned for a second. His eyes were closed. He was already asleep. Unbelievable. I put my hands on my hips and stormed back into the living room. I looked down at the baby, a rip of resentment and hatred toward the little sleeping thing radiating through me. He had brought the other woman’s baby into my house.

  This was real.

  This was really happening.

  I sat back down on the couch and lifted the wine glass to my lips. It didn’t taste as good now. Mark had ruined it, had ruined my evening of relaxation. My head throbbed as I rubbed gently at my temples and closed my eyes. Could things possibly get any worse? Would a house be dropped on my head next?

  The lights from the TV flickered across the room and landed on the baby. I glanced over his way. He was wide awake now, his little legs and arms moving frantically as his tiny, dark eyes landed on me. His fist went to his mouth and he tried to gnaw on it. Then came out a little squeak of unhappiness followed by a shrill squall. He was thrashing and screaming so loud that the entire car seat was rocking back and forth. The noise was deafening and my anxiety rose a few notches.

  I jumped to my feet and walked back into the bedroom. Mark was out cold. “Mark!” I hissed. “Mark!” I shook him again. “Get up! That baby is crying! Go take care of him!”

  He moaned again and turned his head over, but his eyes were still closed. “I’m tired,” he mumbled.

  I waited and shook him a few more times. He wasn’t getting up, and the newborn continued to shriek. I went back into the living room as I chewed desperately on a fingernail. My eyes fell on the diaper bag. The baby was probably hungry. I had only babysat a handful of times when I was younger, and it was always children that could talk and wipe their own butts. I didn’t have any experience with babies. I picked up the bag and took it into the kitchen where I could see better and searched through its contents. There was a can of powdered formula and a few empty bottles that looked clean. I read the directions on the side of the formula can, then re-read them again. Putting water in the bottle, I mixed in the formula and began to shake it as I rushed back to the screaming baby. I unhooked the straps from around him in the car seat and picked him up. I put the bottle nipple up to his lips. He immediately began sucking down the milk. He was dark-skinned, like his mother, and had curly black hair.

  I sat down on the couch and propped my arm up on the armrest while the baby ate and made little slurping nois
es. He looked up at me as I looked down at him. What the hell was I doing? How’d I end up holding Mark’s baby with another woman? None of it made sense, and even though I hated this child, I couldn’t blame him. Someone had to feed him. Mark obviously was only capable of taking care of himself. My heart sank at the cute face staring up at me. If this baby only knew what a loser his father was. If he only knew what hell Mark had put me through. Someday I was sure he’d find out for himself. I should pity the life this child was going to have. If Rita was smart, she’d take off and raise him on her own. If I was smart, I’d put down this baby and leave this house, but I couldn’t do it knowing Mark would just let him scream. Oh, the irony of that situation that was stinging me now.

  21

  CAIN

  I stood in the elevator by myself as it took me up to Carmine’s floor where he lived. It was pretty early in the morning. My hair was still wet from the quick shower I had taken as I jumped out of bed realizing I’d overslept. I didn’t know how these guys partied so hard all night and were still able to function in the morning. I felt like shit, and I was pretty sure I looked like shit, too.

  I thought back to the other time I’d been in this elevator shaking in my boots after Seton had blasted a hole through that guy’s head in the abandoned building. It’s funny how I didn’t feel much different. There was something about Carmine that put me on edge. I was more aware of my own movements around him. I thought about what I was going to say more than usual. And it wasn’t just me. The other guys lifted him up on a pedestal also. Everyone seemed to tiptoe around him. They didn’t want to bother him. They didn’t want to take a chance of making him mad, even though he didn’t seem like an angry guy, not like Seton was, but he must have some sort of power over these guys for them to be so afraid of him. These were tough dudes. They didn’t dare double-cross Carmine, so I wouldn’t either.