“A pleasure.” Xavier - “Xav,” buddy of Kyle’s and clearly a creep - smiled at me, not bothering to get up. “I’ve heardsomuch about you, Scar.” He’s handsome in that bland, “I’ve had some work done” way. Brown hair and sharp little eyes, and quite a bit older. Maybe fifty.
“Okay. Well, if there’s nothing else, I have some errands for your mother that I really need to get done.”
“Ourmother,” Kyle corrected with a malicious glint in his eye. He knew I’d throw myself off the Mystic River Bridge before I’d call that harpy Mother, but he loved pretending we’re a big, happy family in front of guests.
“So, nice to meet you and have a good day.” I was halfway across the room when Xavier leaped up from his chair with concerning speed, getting between me and the door.
“Don’t leave yet, Scar. We’re just getting to know each other.” Xavier’s got an accent. It’s faint, and I can’t place it.
The air felt heavy, oppressive. I was suddenly very aware that this room was soundproofed. Xavier was too close, his eyes glittering and moisture on his upper lip.
“I understand scars,” he leaned in, whispering like it’s something filthy. “I appreciate them.” He put his hand on my neck, one finger tracing the thin line that ran from under my hair to my shoulder.
Why did I wear my hair up in a ponytail today? What'swrongwith me? My neck is bare, my scar standing out, red against my pale skin.
Kyle was watching us closely, still smoking his sickening cigar. He wasn’t going to stop this. I didn’t expect him to, but still, it shocked me that he didn’t, I don’t know why.
Three quick steps and I was around Xavier and my hand was on the doorknob. “Your mother is expecting me.” Swallowing my disgust, “Again, nice to meet you.”
Speedwalking to the kitchen, I scooped up Murder Mittens, slipping her into my backpack and went out the side door. The guard was sucking up to Marlena, so there was no one to stop me from slipping through the gates anddown the street.
Currently…
It’s dark by the time I get off the bus, about twenty minutes from Boston. Marlena hates that the Banner offices are in Marblehead, far out of the "prestigious" downtown location, but Dad wanted to keep the legitimate face of the business close to the warehouses where they curate and store the cannabis. This area isn’t dangerous, exactly. It’s bustling during the daytime but there’s no clubs or stores nearby to bring people in at night.
Folding my arms tightly against my chest, I head for the office building. The walk isn’t bad, just a block or two. I rub my neck again. That pig put his hand on me. A stranger, fondling my throat like he thought he had a right to.
I’ve learned a lot of ways to evade people in that house. How to slip into the basement when Marlena starts screaming, or to disappear completely when Steve has a bunch of his drunk buddies over and it’s getting loud.
Drunk and loud is always bad.
Kyle, though, he usually ignores me unless he wants something done. There was no reason to call me into his office. He never introduces me to his business associates.
That creep, talking about scars… Did Kyle tell him about mine? Is it like a fetish thing with him?
Shuddering, I pull my lanyard out of the backpack, looping it around my neck as I walk up to the glass doors of Banner Industries. It’s a two-story brick building with a nice industrial vibe. It used to be a factory in the last century. My dad updated it into the “clean” face of the business before I was born. Our security guard is pacing the lobby, looking up as I knock on the door.
“Hey Maury, how are you?”
He gives me a grin, unlocking the door and letting me in. “I’m good, Scarlett. Zeb got his SATs back. He’s in the top ten percent.”
“Oh, my god that’s wonderful!” Murder Mittens is jostled when I give Maury a hug, but for once she doesn’t hiss. Maury has worked for my family for twenty years, doing security in the warehouses and then here in the office building as he got older. He survived the employee purge Kyle instituted when he took over my father’s business. Still, surviving the purge meant a cut in pay, so he’s been worried about his youngest getting into college.
“So that means he’s got three or four options for a scholarship, right?” I ask, “Maybe even a full ride?”
“That’s the plan,” he says, cautiously offering Murder Mittens a cat treat. She takes it graciously and without biting his finger. “See you later?”
“I’ll be here.” Heading for the cleaning supplies, my shoulders slump.
Where else would I be?
I’m the maid at home. The cleaner at work. And I’m no closer to finding out what really happened to Dad.
Suck it up,I lecture myself.Start with Kyle’s office, then move to Marlena’s. The proof is here somewhere.
Chapter Five
In which Wallace does what he does best.
