Canary by Tijan

2

Girl

Iknew this life wasn’t for everyone. It was barely for me, but I’d made the decision to enter this other world so long ago... It was cold and harsh, but if you got over caring when you died, it could be freeing at the same time. No government except not getting caught by the government. No parents. No rules to follow—except the boss’. So maybe it wasn’t that freeing after all.

Maybe I was just deluding myself.

Maybe I’d been deluding myself this whole time…

“Girl.”

I looked up from the book I was reading on my bed. I’d opened my bedroom door once I heard Raize’s girls leave this morning. No one alive could’ve missed them. They made so much noise. They were all the same. Loud. Annoying. High heels clomping on the floor, giggles, and slurred speech. There was a thud by the wall on their way down the hall, so one must have fallen over. Raize liked to party when he had his women, so she was probably still drunk or high.

That was one thing I appreciated about working for Raize. When he partied, it was just him—his business. Lines were blurred so much in this world, but he had some professional boundaries. Some bosses made their employees party with them, and that was just bad. But not Raize. Once we got to the house, we were on our own until he needed us to do something.

So after we’d returned from the motel, Henchman Two One had taken his food to the kitchen table to eat. Raize had disappeared. He usually ate in his living room with the television blaring or music blasting.

I’d gone to my room, where I usually went after days like that.

It wasn’t much.

A simple room.

A bed. A desk. I had some clothes in the closet. Sneakers if I wanted to exercise. A phone. And some books. I liked to have maybe two or three. Wherever I was, I got a library card. I’d been eyeing one of those e-readers, but I hadn’t made the jump yet.

Simple meant survival in this life. I liked to survive.

The girls that came over last night were gone, so after getting ready for the day, I went to the kitchen for coffee. I’d left the door open after I went back, figuring if Raize needed something, he’d holler or show up.

After a little while he showed up. He stood in the hallway, not even coming into my doorway, dressed in his typical uniform: dark jeans, a shirt, and a leather jacket. The jacket and jeans were always frayed, having that worn-in look, and the shirts changed. Some days it was a Henley. Other days, a T-shirt. And the colors were either white, gray, or black.

I’d never seen him in anything else.

His hair was always the same, too. Cropped close on the sides with the top just long enough to have some volume. He ran his fingers through it, and that was it. It was a mess, but it worked for him.

Today it was jeans and a gray Henley. No leather jacket. And he had sunglasses on.

He checked his phone once he had my attention. “I reached out to Bronski’s boss. We have a meet with him in thirty.” He put his phone away and slid his sunglasses down so his eyes could meet mine. He studied me. “You’re gonna have to talk. You good with that?”

Talk?

Fuck.

I knew what he meant, and I looked away in response.

“Hey.” He raised his voice, but I looked back and he lowered it to normal. “I killed Bronski’s guy, and that means Bronksi could claim you as his or go to war. I don’t want war with that fucker, but he stepped to me when he sent that guy in the first place. I don’t work that way, and I’m not done using you, so that means you gotta talk. I’m asking now. Can you handle that?”

I swallowed over the knot in my throat. “Yeah. I’ll talk.”

Fuck, I’d talk.

I hated that shit, which was ironic considering that’s the entire reason I’d signed up for this life. Talking. Snitching. I hated it. It always felt wrong unless it was against a guy like Bronski, but even then, my stomach still felt sick.

“It’s not the police,” Raize reminded me. “Deal with it.”

Right. Deal with it. Easy for him to say. He had a dick and I didn’t think a lot of women were forcing him to put it in their vaginas.

But whatever.

Talk.

Fine.

Fuck.

I’d have to talk.

I sighed as Raize headed for the kitchen, hollering, “Let’s go, Jake.”

I followed, and Henchman Now-One swung in line, shoving his gun behind his back as he joined us from the living room. We left like that, Raize, Henchman Now-One (or Jake, since I knew his name now), and me bringing up the rear. Raize had other staff, and they were staying in the house. Their job was to bag the blow and watch so no one stole it. Me and Henchman Now-One were Raize’s traveling team, but I knew we’d have another guy joining us within a couple hours.

There was a job opening.

We went to a house,and—no shock here—it was surrounded by guards. Anyone who was anyone had security, but as we parked the car and we got out, I noted that these guards looked Russian.

I felt a tickle that ran down the length of my spine, waiting, pooling at the end.

Every sense in me heightened to full alert as we were led through the door, down a hallway, and into a back office. Music came from elsewhere in the house, but it was muffled. I could hear people. Conversations. The clinking of glasses. Footsteps. Heels on the floor. Wafts of cigar and other smoke in the air.

There were two men in the office. One stood at the desk, waiting as the other, sitting behind the desk, wrote something down. As we walked in, two guards entered behind us. I noted that Henchman One remained outside—Jake.

The standing guy gave us a glance, but soon went back to waiting, his hands at his side, his head down.

He reminded me of a soldier.

The guy behind the desk looked up as well, then finished and handed the piece of paper to the waiting guy. He took off, and the door closed behind him.

The guy behind the desk leaned back, his eyes hooded. He was young, maybe early thirties. Mid thirties.

I was bad at guessing ages. Everyone looked older than they were in this world. A fourteen year old looked like a thirty year old, but this guy truly did seem in his thirties. Dark hair combed back. Business suit.

He was smart, and cold.

I could feel it in the air around him, and I suppressed a shiver.

His gaze locked on me, skimming over my body before looking back to Raize. “Why are you here?”

Raize looked at me, his gaze blank as usual. He often reminded me of a robot, with no emotions—even when he killed. He did it sensibly.

“Bronski sent a man for one of mine.”

See? He spoke like he was giving an order at the drive-thru.

“What man?”

Raize shrugged. “I didn’t get his name.”

The guy made a point of looking around before raising his eyebrows. “Where is this guy?”

“I killed him.”

No emotion. None. So matter of fact.

The desk guy regarded Raize for a moment before sighing and scooting his chair back. He didn’t stand. He remained sitting and gazing off into the distance.

Then he turned back. “What was the reason for you killing one of Bronski’s men?”

“Because if I didn’t, Bronski would’ve gotten to you before I could.”

Desk guy’s mouth pursed, and he nodded as he stood. He stayed behind the desk, his gaze falling to me again. “Are you going to fill in the dots as to why Bronski sent a man for one of yours?”

“It’s the girl,” Raize noted.

So flat.

Desk Guy’s eyes skirted back to Raize. “Are you fucking her?”

“No.”

Desk Guy asked me, “Is he fucking you?”

“No.”

“Was Bronski fucking you?”

I didn’t answer.

Desk Guy noted this before turning back to Raize. “Was he fucking her?”

Raize nodded once. “Against her will.”

Back to me. “He raped you?”

He did not seem like he gave a fuck.

My tongue grew heavy. My throat started to swell. This wasn’t a conversation any survivor or victim wanted to have, but here it was so blasé that I wanted to vomit all over everyone in the room.

I was quiet a moment.

Raize’s jaw tightened.

They were all waiting.

I shifted on my feet, but maintained eye contact with the head boss. “Yes, it was rape.”

“You fought?”

Really, really wanted to vomit.

Everywhere.

Bile moved up in my throat. I rasped out, “Yes.”

Images of us came back to me.

Him on top. Holding my arms down.

Me kicking, straining.

The smell of his breath. God. His horrible, horrible breath.

“You said no?”

God, he was so cold.

Raize swore under his breath. “Rape is rape, Carl. They say no and anything after is rape, whether they fight, flee, or freeze. It’s rape.”

Carl. That was his name.

That name was now on my list.

I’d had one name on my list when I started this life. One. My sister’s boyfriend. Then his boss got added to the list. Bronski was put on there. A few other guys, and now Carl. One day, somehow, I’d cross out each and every one.

One day.

“Why’s he want her back?” Carl asked.

I almost sagged in relief, wanting to take a step back, as if I could melt into the background. But I couldn’t. That wasn’t how it worked, so I stayed firm, but I was thankful that question had gone to Raize.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. He wants to fuck her again?”

Raize was lying. And he wasn’t looking at me on purpose, or I guessed it was on purpose.

Carl studied him, then turned and studied me.

I felt seared from the inside out by the time he sighed. “You’re lying to me.”

I gasped, trying to remain silent, but the sound was out.

He turned that accusation toward Raize, who didn’t flinch, who didn’t gasp, who didn’t react at all. Total stone robot.

“Bronski got rid of her,” Raize said. “He sold her to Nelly to be a mule.”

“That true?” Carl asked me.

I nodded. “Yes.” Also, how did Raize know this? I’d already been with Slim before Raize got me.

So many bosses.

“Were you a mule for him?”

Shit. That’s when I knew.

Carl knew. He knew everything.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I wasn’t, no.”

He raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, resting his hands on his desk. His fingers spread. “You both have one more chance at being truthful here. Why does Bronski want you?” He glared at Raize. “Start filling in the blanks.”

I opened my mouth—

“She’s got good hunches.” Raize beat me to it.

Carl’s shoulders lost some of their tension, and he eased back, standing upright again. He folded his arms over his chest. “Keep going.”

Raize looked like he was eating wood chips as he ground out, “She knows shit. Ask her a question, and she’ll know the answer. She has good instincts.”

“You psychic?” Carl asked.

I opened my mouth, again.

“No.”

Raize beat me to it, again.

“She doesn’t see the future or talk to dead people,” he explained. “But ask her a question with a yes or no answer and she’s right.”

“How right?”

“Nine out of ten, she’ll be correct.”

“You’ve tested this?” Carl was starting to sound impressed.

“Test her yourself.”

I hated when they did this. Despised it.

His first question was like a bullet. “Do I have a middle name?”

“No.”

He grinned briefly. “You’re right, I don’t.”

Question two. “I have a gift for my lady friend. Is she going to like it?”

“No.” And I did not want to know anything more about that situation.

He didn’t respond right away, but then came a third question. He spoke more slowly this time. “There’s a guy behind you. Turn and look at him. Then turn back to me and tell me if he’s skimming from me or not.”

I turned, but my gut already knew.

The guy held a gun and at my look, he started to bristle. He grew red in the face.

I turned back, finding Carl watching me intently.

“Yes.” I moved aside.

“Wha— I didn’t! The bitch is lying.”

Carl asked Raize, “She’s not wrong?”

“Nine out of ten.”

“Carl.” The gun guy stepped forward, his arm hitting me on purpose. The tendons in his neck bulged. “I’m not lying. I never skimmed on you. Ever! She’s a whackjob. You can’t believe her.”

“The question was if you were skimming me, not if you had skimmed me. Your answer confirmed hers.” He reached into his desk drawer and produced a gun.

A hand grabbed my arm.

He raised it, and I was pulled to the side just as he pulled the trigger and shot the guy in the forehead. Raize had yanked me out of the way.

Just like that, again, I had blood and brain matter on my face, hair, and shirt.

I was so sick of seeing people killed in front of me.

The door opened. Another security guy poked his head in with Jake.

Jake looked at Raize and me. Raize motioned to him, and he stepped back outside.

Carl motioned to the body. “Take that out of here. Dispose of it.”

The security guy looked back into the hallway, and two more guys stepped in, picked up the body, and carried it out. One guy cleaned the blood as they went.

Carl leaned back against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. “I need a reason why you killed Bronski’s man, Raize.”

“I told you.”

“Bronski fucked up. He didn’t know what she could do. He raped her, then sold her. He’s too stupid to have her. I’m not.”

I studied Carl, searching for a clue as to what he would do. He was Bronski and Raize’s boss. I knew the stakes here, or I was getting them at least. If Carl found in favor of Bronski, I’d be returned to him, and Raize would get a bullet in the head. That was how it worked. If he didn’t find in favor of Bronski… I didn’t know. Probably nothing would happen because Bronski was the one wronged by Raize.

They didn’t give a fuck what Bronski did to me.

Women had minimal uses in this world. Being a mule or a sex worker were the two most common options. I had a different purpose, and thank fucking God for it or I’d probably be dead with a busted drug bag in my stomach or hooked on drugs and pimped out on some corner, in some bed, in some motel, or in some gambling game. Who the fuck knew. I’d hit the jackpot with Raize, I was finding out.

Carl sighed, nodding. “Fine. You can keep her, but on one condition.”

Raize stiffened.

I held my breath, too scared to do anything else.

“I have a job for you in Texas.” He pointed to me, his finger extending lazily. “And you’re going to use her.”

Raize’s jaw tightened. “What’s the job?”

“We’ll talk more later. Go and get your things ready. You’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

With that, Carl left the office, and Raize finally turned to me.

I was still holding my breath.

“We’re going to Texas.” He brushed past me, and I swayed back and forth on my feet for a second.

Texas.

What was in Texas?

“Breathe, Girl.” Jake’s voice drifted in from the hallway. “We all lived another day.”

Right.

Living another day was also on my list of things to accomplish, but I was going to keep Carl’s name there anyway. ’Cause fuck him.

I bet he’d never been raped.