Don’t Let Me Break by Linda Verji

 

 

CHAPTER 12

 

Over the next month and a half, Marley spent a lot of time with her therapist. Her goal was to keep her alter from coming back out, and it worked. Even though Marley’s attacker still hadn’t been caught, and she was still afraid of walking alone in the dark, her mental state was stable. Hazel seemed to have retreated back into her corner like she was supposed to. Awesome!

However, someone else had become a frequent part of Marley’s life… Sebastian.

Marley wasn’t sure whether he was watching her or if she’d just become hyper-aware of him. Either way, their eyes met a little too often to be considered accidental. During meetings and in the cafeteria, she’d caught him watching her a couple of times. Sometimes he averted his eyes. Sometimes he just smiled at her. All those glances could’ve been coincidental, but she really started to doubt him when she realized that he was spending a lot of time on the rooftop.

Marley had chosen the rooftop as her favorite haunt because it was quiet and often deserted. There were several better leisure spots in and around the building so few people ever went up there. But Sebastian, it seemed, preferred the rooftop just like her. Every time she went up, he’d either be there already or he’d show up minutes after her. Suspicious, right?

Her personality demanded that she find a new spot. Yet for some odd reason, she kept going back there. Usually, spending time with other people and being forced to make conversation drained her. But with Sebastian, it was different. The more she spent time with him, the less nervous and more comfortable she got. Soon, she even started to anticipate seeing him up there.

It occurred to Marley that their coworkers might see them up there and misconstrue their relationship. But About It’s office culture was pretty laissez-faire. It wasn’t strange to find management and lower staff mixing. Besides, Sebastian was a smart guy. He must’ve thought of it too, and if he didn’t care then she wouldn’t care either. Besides, it wasn’t like they were doing anything inappropriate. They were just hanging out… like friends.

Her heart pumping harder because of excitement, Marley hurried up to the rooftop. Sure enough, Sebastian was there. He seemed to be reading or watching something on his tablet. Biting down on the instinctive smile that tugged at the sides of her lips, she crossed the space to get to him.

His head lifted as she neared the table, and he grinned. “You’re here.”

“Hi.” She dropped into the seat directly across from him. As she did so, she set two tins of chicken curry and rice on the table. “Have you had lunch?”

“Not yet.”

“I thought- I thought you might be up here so-” Marley slid one of the tins to him. “-I brought you something to eat.”

Sebastian laughed. “Great minds think alike.”

“Huh?”

He pointed to the large brown bag on the table next to him. “I had the same idea so I brought lunch too.”

Mortified, she stuttered. “Oh- oh- sorry!”

“You really have to stop apologizing,” he admonished while still smiling. “Besides, it just means more for us to eat, right?”

More to eat was an understatement. The man had brought a whole buffet. His bag had drinks, tacos, sausage rolls, salads and even cookies for dessert.

When he saw Marley’s stunned expression, he winced. “Too much?”

She giggled. “Too much.”

“Sorry.” He wrinkled his nose. “I was feeling hungry so I went a little overboard.”

“It’s okay,” she soothed. “We can pack whatever remains and take it home.”

They ate while both focusing on their respective tablets. Marley noted that Sebastian was reading something so she pulled up a web-novel.

A few minutes into their meal, Sebastian asked, “What are you reading?”

She shrugged. “Just a web-novel.”

“Let me see.” He reached out to take her tablet.

Marley instantly hid the tablet behind her back. Reading was great but she didn’t want anyone, especially Sebastian, knowing about the stuff she read.

She was quite aware of the image she gave off; shy, reserved and chaste. In her fantasies, she was nothing close to that, and her book choices reflected her internal preferences. The current gem she was reading was a popular Chinese web-novel with very raunchy scenes that she wasn’t quite willing to let Sebastian know she liked.

“Oh!” Sebastian arched his eyebrows. An amused lilt to his tone, he teased, “It’s that kind of book, is it?”

If Marley were a paler woman, she would’ve turned redder than a tomato. Heated embarrassment flushed up her body straight to her face. “N-no, it isn’t.”

Any other person would’ve insisted on seeing the book or at the very least teased her further, but after watching her for about a second, Sebastian unexpectedly changed the topic. “Have you read this one?” He turned his tablet so she could see his book.

She was so relieved was that she quickly grabbed the lifeline he’d thrown her with both hands. Breathlessly, she asked, “No, what’s- what’s it called?”

“The Other Emily,” Sebastian said. “It’s by Dean Koontz and is about…” He went on to give her a brief rundown of the story.

Marley wasn’t really a thriller person but she was so glad to be let off the hook that she listened raptly to everything Sebastian said. See, this was why she liked hanging out with him. He knew when to push and when to back off.

He was just getting to the meat of the story when her phone rang.

“Sorry!” She gave him a sheepish look as she took the phone from her jacket pocket.

He smiled. “It’s okay.”

She checked the screen only to find that it was the company’s security desk. She answered the phone, “Hello?”

“Hey, Marley.” The caller’s high tenor came in loud and clear. “It’s Winston.”

“Hi, Winston.”

Winston, one of the security guards, went on, “You have a visitor down here.”

“Me?” Marley frowned. “Who?”

“Her name is Leslie.”

Leslie? Marley didn’t know anyone named Leslie.

“Leslie Turner,” Winston continued. “She says that she needs to talk to you about your mother, Cynthia.”

Immediately, Marley’s heart jumped to her throat. “What?”

“She said that you’ll want to see her.” Winston paused then added in a whisper, “But I don’t think you should. She’s kind of weird.”

No matter how weird the woman Marley had to meet her. She’d mentioned Cynthia. Marley stuttered, “It’s- it’s okay. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Sebastian must’ve seen the distress in her expression because he watched her with a frown and as soon as she ended the call, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Um- um-” Marley distractedly packed up her stuff. “I have- I have to go.”

Worry in his tone and gaze, he asked, “Is it something serious?”

If it was about her mother, then it had to be. Still, she forced a smile as she stood. “Probably- probably not.”

Before Sebastian could ask any more questions, she left.

 

* * * * *

 

SHE’S ON SOMETHING. That was Marley’s first impression when she walked into the lobby and saw the woman seated on the only couch in the space.

The woman had all the signs of being a drug addict. She was tall, about five-foot-nine, but eerily gaunt to the point where she looked like a skeleton with skin. Her short, strawberry blonde hair was thin, straw-like and looked like it had been hacked off instead of trimmed. Her pale face was liberally peppered with deep pink sores, like she’d been picking at it constantly. The skin below her eyes was dark and baggy, and her lips were chapped. Wrinkles lined her eyes, nose and mouth to the point where it was hard to tell whether she was thirty or sixty.

Despite it being a cold day, the woman was wearing a tank top that exposed her skeletal arms, shorts that fell mid-thigh and slides. Though she was seated, her unsteady gaze jerked quickly around the room taking everyone in. As soon as Marley entered the room, the lady focused on her.

Hoping against hope that that woman wasn’t Leslie Turner, Marley walked to the reception desk where Winston was.

“Where is she?” Marley asked.

Winston didn’t even say a word. He just pointed to the woman on the couch.

God no! Unease stirring in the pit of her tummy, Marley turned to face the woman. The moment their eyes met, Leslie broke into a grin filled with discolored gums, gaps and broken, brown teeth.

“Hi, Marley,” she greeted.

“H- hi.” Marley licked her suddenly dry lips. “We should talk outside.”

Her coworkers knew nothing about her mother or her family, and she wanted to keep it that way.

“Sure!” Leslie willingly followed her out of the building.

They met several people as Marley looked for somewhere to talk. Most people’s gazes lingered on Leslie. By their frowns and questioning eyes, Marley could tell that they were wondering what kind of relationship she could possibly have with the woman. It didn’t help at all that Leslie greeted everyone who stared at her with a cheerful high-pitched ‘Hiii’.

Marley led the way to a private corner then turned to the woman. “How do- how do you know- know my mother?”

“You’re a hard bird to find,” Leslie returned instead of answering the question. Scratching her scarred cheek, she complained, “I had to comb the whole city to find you.”

Marley didn’t care how the woman had found her. She repeated, “How do you- do you know my mom?”

“Cynthia?” Leslie gave a toothy grin. “We go a long way back. She was my roommate.”

Marley’s forehead crinkled in confusion. “Roommate?”

“You know. In prison,” Leslie explained. “We were roommates.”

You mean cellmates, Marley mentally corrected even as her anxiety went up by several notches. Suddenly, she felt much colder and couldn’t help pulling her jacket closer around her body.

“She was a great friend. We were tight like this.” Leslie crossed her fingers to demonstrate. “We were best-buds. Sisters from another mother. No one could tear us apart. I would’ve died for her.”

“I- I see,” Marley said even though she really didn’t.

As soon as she and Kenny were old enough to go against their grandmother, they’d started visiting their mother in prison. Over the several years that they’d gone there, Leslie’s name never came up. A few prisoners were even allowed to come to Cynthia’s funeral when she died five years ago. None of those prisoners was Leslie. So how could she claim that she and Cynthia were great friends?

“I didn’t come to talk about Cynthia though.” Leslie abruptly plopped down so that she was seated on her haunches. “I came to talk about your dad, Gary.”

Marley was already nervous, but the mention of her father curled her insides into a tight knot. Her heart began to beat faster and her throat closed up to the point where she couldn’t even speak.

Meanwhile, Leslie was grinning up at her. “I knew you’d look that way when I brought him up.”

“Why-” Marley cleared her throat to get rid of some of the tightness. “Why did- did you bring him- him up?”

“You know why.” Leslie’s smile widened. “Thirty thousand.”

Marley blinked. “Wh- what?”

“Thirty thousand and I keep my mouth shut,” Leslie responded. When all she got from Marley was a confused look, she continued, “If you give me thirty thousand dollars, I won’t tell anyone about who really killed your dad.”

No. No. No. Marley’s heart dropped to her stomach, and a weird buzzing started in her ear. No. No. No.

If she were quick on her feet, Marley would’ve snapped back that her mother had killed Gary that’s why she was the one who’d gone to prison. However, she had never been good under pressure and she was a terrible liar.

Instead of saying something rational, Marley ended up with, “N- n- no one k- killed m- my dad.”

Leslie burst into laughter. “His grave would beg to differ.” She hopped back to her feet and took a step towards Marley. “And we both know who really did it.”

Marley instinctively took a step back because of fear, horror and an innate need to get away from the rancid, unwashed smell that seemed to seep from Leslie.

Her smile turning wolfish, Leslie offered, “Thirty thousand and I’ll keep my mouth shut about what I know.”

Oh God, no! Even though Marley’s armpits and hands were sweaty, her limbs trembled because of the sudden cold rushing through her. She wanted to run from this woman. She wanted to collapse at her feet and beg her to go away and never mention Gary again. But all she could do was stare at her in open-mouthed fear.

“Thirty thousand,” Leslie repeated.

Even while her fear overwhelmed her, Marley knew that she needed to do something about Leslie otherwise Kenny’s life as she knew it would end.

Yes, it was true. Kenny was the one who’d killed their father, not Cynthia. Cynthia had taken the fall because she knew that it would ruin Kenny’s life. Though the circumstances of Gary’s death were suspicious, Cynthia’s quick confession had been enough to make law enforcement turn a blind eye.

Under normal circumstances, the domestic violence would’ve been enough to get Cynthia off on self-defense or at least get her a lesser sentence. But she was holding several terrible cards.

Bad public defender? Check.

A community that adored Gary and wanted heads to roll for his death? Check.

A prosecutor who was planning to run for office and thus was very willing to pander to the frothing and fuming public? Check.

A biased jury? Check.

A racist, misogynist judge who prided himself on being hard on crime? Check.

It also didn’t help that Cynthia had zero proof that she was abused. Gary always sent her to an unlicensed doctor he knew to get treatment for the injuries he caused. Needless to say, that ‘doctor’ wasn’t about to risk his own freedom just to help Cynthia. The girls could’ve helped to prove the abuse but Cynthia refused to let them testify because she was scared they’d say something and let everyone know the truth. Even worse, their grandma went on the stand and gave a tearful testimony about how much of an angel Gary was.

The unfortunate combination of all these things worked against Cynthia. They handed her fifteen years to life sentence. To top it all off, three years before she was due for parole, she succumbed to colon cancer.

Cynthia had gone out just as pitifully as she lived. Her only legacy was her love for her children and everything she’d done to protect them. And now this junkie who claimed to be best friends with their mother was threatening to ruin that too.

Her only thought being to protect Kenny, Marley looked around frantically to make sure no one was listening to the conversation. No one was out there. Turning back to Leslie, she stammered, “You can- you can’t tell anyone.”

“Give me thirty thousand and I won’t,” Leslie countered flippantly.

“I- I don’t have that - that much money,” Marley protested.

“Then borrow it.”

“From who? I don’t- don’t know anyone with that- that much money,” Marley said.

Actually, that was a lie. Kenny had that kind of money, but Marley wasn’t about to ask her for it because that would mean explaining what she needed it for. If she could help it, she planned to keep Kenny and Leslie as far away from each other as possible.

Leslie sniffed in annoyance. “How much you got?”

“I- I don’t know.” Marley frantically did some mental calculations. “Maybe like two thousand.”

The other woman didn’t even negotiate further. “Give me that,” Leslie said, leading Marley to believe that she was just looking for a little cash for a hit. “We can work on the rest later.”

Wishing that she’d offered less, Marley said, “I- I- I don’t have it here.”

“Gaaaawd, you’re annoying!” Leslie rolled her eyes. “How much you got then?”

“Here?” Marley asked. When the other woman nodded, she searched the pockets of her jacket to come up with a twenty.

Leslie snatched the bill from Marley before she could even offer it. “Give me the rest later tonight. What’s your number?”

Leslie didn’t have a phone (probably sold it for a hit) so Marley had to write it down for her.

“Make sure you pick up when I call,” Leslie threatened, “or else.”

With that, she sauntered off, leaving Marley shaking in her boots.