Komal Kant - Wrong Side of Town

It didn’t matter that he held a knife to my throat; I was already dead inside. I had been dead for a long time now. What I refused to give up was my dignity. This man was not going to get the better of me. He would not win.

Instead of shrinking away, I straightened up and fixed him with a look of defiance that made him stare at me in surprise and then burst into laughter.

“Well, I can see why he likes you.” He flicked a strand of hair out of my face. “You’re easy on the eyes and you’ve got balls. More balls than those Maddens got. See, there’s one thing I know about Vincent Madden; he doesn’t hold hands with girls. So what I wanna know is what makes you so different?”

When he got no answer, he stuck the knife back in his pocket and grabbed me by the shoulders. His blue eyes had taken on a sinister glint. “Okay, I get it. You’re upset with me. I’m sorry I got angry and lost control. It’s just I get angry when people lie to me. Let me start again; I’m Conor and I’m in the Allbrook gang. Now, the thing is, Vincent’s busted up a lot of our guys and we’re losing money. Troy doesn’t like it when we lose money.”

My brow creased as Conor said all this. Who was this Troy person? And why was Vincent beating up guys and making the Allbrook gang lose money? None of this was making any sense to me.

“I don’t know anything about that,” I managed to say, despite the raw, arid feeling in my throat.

A cruel smile curled around Conor’s mouth. “That’s okay; I just need you to give Vincent a message. Tell him that he needs to lose the next fight or things are gonna get ugly. Tell him that it’s not hard for me to get to the things that are important to him.” Conor leaned in and brushed his lips against mine. I let out a cry of outrage which only made him laugh. “See ya around, beautiful. If you ever get sick of doing a Madden, I’m more than happy to have you in my bed.”

Laughing, he shoved me hard against the wall. The impact of my back against the bricks sent a sharp stab of pain shooting through me, and tears pricked my eyes. Frozen in fear, I watched Conor saunter away.

Several long minutes passed before my fear began to fade away and I felt certain he wasn’t coming back. Finally, with shaky fingers, I reached down and picked up the discarded phone and pressed it to my ear.

“Stelle! Stelle! What the hell is going on?” Vincent’s voice was urgent on the other end of the line, the indifference gone from his tone. Now he sounded genuinely scared. “Shit, Stelle! Say something! Is he gone?”

“Yes,” I managed to say.

My brain felt fuzzy, and the skin around my neck was where the knife had sliced into was sore. There wasn’t any blood, but the skin still seared when I touched it. An itch was starting up on my left arm, exactly where my scar was, and I subconsciously starting rubbing it against the side of my leg.

“Listen to me carefully. I want you to go next door to the auto shop. Three should still be there. Stay with him until I get there, okay?”

“My sister’s coming to get me,” I choked out. If I wasn’t here when Savannah came to pick me up, she’d get worried.

“Tell her to meet you at the auto shop. I’ll be there soon, Stelle. Just go wait for me there. Please.” There was an edge of desperation in his voice, and I found myself nodding.

“Okay.”

When Vincent hung up, I typed out a quick text message to Savannah telling her where I’d be. Once I hit ‘send’, I urged my feet to hurry next door to the auto shop. As I rounded the corner, I slammed into someone and let out a scream, afraid that Conor had doubled back somehow.

“Shit, Estella!” The voice was familiar, and blinking away the blur in my eyes, I saw that Three was reaching out to steady me. “It’s okay, it’s just me. Vincent told me what happened. C’mon, let me take you inside.”

Three’s firm hand was on my back, guiding me around the corner and towards the auto shop. My mind was racing, and I barely managed to keep my shaky legs from stumbling over the sidewalk. Relief washed over me when the light from the auto shop greeted me. Three took me inside and sat me down in a chair.

“Shit, you’re shaking real bad.” Three’s voice sounded far away, like it was coming from another room. “Did he hurt you?”

Somehow, I managed to shake my head. My head was all fuzzy and my thoughts were scattered. Snippets of my confrontation with Conor were drifting in and out of my head. I wanted to get his face out of my mind. I wanted to forget the cold gleam in his eyes as he held the knife to my throat. I’d been able to show some bravado—which made me proud of myself—but inside I was crumbling away. The strings that held me together were slowly coming undone.

Then all of a sudden someone was shaking me and his voice brought me back to life. “Stelle! Look at me!”

My eyes snapped open and all I could see was Vincent’s face in my vision. There was a crease in his brow that gave away how worried he was for me. For a second I just let myself drown in the depths of his dark eyes. That darkness was reassuring; it made me feel safe. It was familiar. It was something that the broken part of me desperately held onto.

Then all of a sudden, two hands grabbed the sides of my face and I resurfaced.

“Stelle, are you okay?” Vincent’s voice was urgent, his eyes probing as they searched my face for any signs of harm.

I nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. He held a knife to my throat.”

The hands dropped from my face and Vincent placed his fingers on my chin and gently raised my head. I could sense his eyes on the small cut that I knew was on my neck. I could still feel it stinging.

“Does it hurt?” His voice was sounded tense. “Did he cut you anywhere else?”

“No, that’s the only place,” I said, chewing my lip as Conor’s words came back to me. “He said something about a fight. You heard him, didn’t you? What was he talking about? What fight? Why is the Allbrook gang losing money?”

Vincent didn’t answer me straight away. Instead he moved over to where Three was standing at a distance. “Go outside and wait for her sister.”

Three nodded and left us alone. Vincent stood still for such a long time that I finally rose to my feet. He seemed startled and hurried to me, grasping my arms as though I was an invalid who couldn’t walk.

Despite the events of the night, it annoyed me that all of a sudden he was so concerned about me when he’d told me only last week that I meant nothing to him. I couldn’t stand the games he played with me. I didn’t need this uncertainty in my life.

“Let go of me!” I snapped, my fear and frustration channeling into anger directed at Vincent.

It was because of him that a member of the Allbrook gang had held a knife to my throat. It was because of him that my heart didn’t know what to feel. It was because of him that I’d been miserable this past week.

Vincent’s eyes widened and his arms went slack as they released me. “Stelle, I want to tell you what’s going on. I want to keep you safe.”

“No!” My voice shook as I jabbed him hard in the chest. “I am not listening to you anymore! You can’t just play with my emotions all the time. I’ve been nothing but polite to you since I started tutoring Dylan, but you can’t even show me a little respect and be civil towards me. You have no right to keep me safe. I mean nothing to you.”

The cold mask that Vincent had always worn around me completely shattered. His brow was pinched together like I’d said something to seriously hurt him. It was then that I realized that Vincent’s mask had been made from fragile glass. Now it was broken.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he said, his voice low. “I was pissed off when I said that, but I still shouldn’t have said it. I should’ve called you to explain.”