I ended up staying at Cody's the rest of that day and then the day after that. What finally separated us was the fact that he had to work on Monday morning. Not that he would've minded me staying in his place, but I also insisted on going back to mine. I didn't have any extra clothes to keep staying night after night, and while parading around in Cody's clothes was a cute idea, it was better for me to have some alone time. Life wasn't just fun and games, after all. I had a mission to complete.
For the two nights that I stayed with him, I forced myself to stay awake long after he had fallen asleep. My ultimate theory was that if I kept my eyes open until it was almost a workout to keep them from closing, I would be too exhausted to even remember that I slept much less have nightmares. During those long hours of silence where a sleeping Cody softly breathed against the crane of my neck while his arm slumped over my torso, I contemplated how the fuck I would go about telling him everything as the ghastly darkness in the room shrouded my entire vision.
I dissected each of his words until they were a jumbled string of letters, and I always ended up with conflicting sides. One side of me felt like an idiot. I was assuming the worst of Cody by thinking that he would run away from me when it was quite clear that everything that had happened was beyond my control. Every time I told myself that I was the victim, I tried convincing myself to just roll over, wake him up, and give him the truth that he deserved.
But before I would do so, Side B would give its two cents and tell me to wait. Until Cody was comfortable with me, comfortable with Derek, it would be too risky to just start leaking such info. Wait for what? My first side would then argue. Wait until he proposes? Wait until you move in together? Wait until you adopt kids? He's practically known you for a year already. Just tell him.
But that's the thing. My other side would refute. Isn't he gonna be mad that you didn't tell him before? A little creeped out that you led him on with another personality, perhaps?
Yeah, and that's why he should know now. My first side would offer. It's better he gets the truth a little late than really late.
These internal arguments never came to a conclusion. No matter how much progress I thought I made, the other side of me would always offer a rebuttal. I didn't know whether to feel accomplished that I could always find flaws in my own arguments, or annoyed that I couldn't listen to a side of me and stick with it.
By Monday morning, I was so exhausted that I drank half of the cup of coffee that I made in Cody's kitchen with my eyes shut. If only Alex could see me now. She would have lectured me up one side and down the other about leaving Cody for someone else and deliver some spiel about how the stress wouldn't be worth it in the end. Reluctantly, I started to agree. This was starting to become less of a relationship and more a form of potent suffering, and I needed to fix it soon.
My cup was black and had the words 'You can do anything!' printed on it in white cursive. It seemed like the last thing Cody would ever put in his apartment, but apparently he got a good bargain for it when he was buying stuff for his apartment: a whole fifteen cents.
Can I, cup? Can I really do anything? I took another swig of the hot drink to break myself free of this zombie-like temperament I was trapped in. Because right now, I'm sure as fuck doubting that.
"Not so much of a Monday person?" Cody asked upon catching a glimpse of my current state. In a chipper mood, he walked towards the fridge and grabbed himself a bottle of water. To think that I was younger than him and yet he was more energetic than I was. Was I certain that I wasn't actually an old man and my parents somehow managed to reverse my age?
"And you are?" My mind could vividly flash back to one Monday morning where I had to literally drag him out of bed while he kept begging me to let him call in sick. No way did that aspect about him change.
He twisted open the cap to the bottle, flashing a smile at me. "Not typically, but the boss promised to bring in donuts today." He said 'donuts' with more enthusiasm than he had used with me in the past forty-eight hours. Apparently his priorities were geared towards food. I dreaded the day that he would leave me for a seven-layer cake.
Cody downed about half of the bottle and shivered before continuing with his explanation. "It's why I'm skipping the coffee. Definitely a punishing experience, but the rewards are worth it."
I nodded. "I suppose any pick-me-up could turn a Monday into something worthwhile." As I brought the mug to my lips again, I secretly wished that my own pick-me-up would come my way. Just then, my phone buzzed. Good one, life. I silently lamented. By pick-me-up I meant something to make my day bearable, not a literal 'Hey! I'm buzzing! Pick me up!' from my phone.
Setting the coffee down, I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and unlocked the screen. The notification alert was a text from my mother. I was now tense all over again. During my little retreat, I had managed to forget all about my parents. Of course, I wasn't actually planning on going back to see what torture they had concocted for me seeing as it was nearing seventy-two hours since the initial threat of what was to come if I didn't break up with Cody. Instead, I was planning on staying in a motel for a few nights until I had everything figured out. However, my plans were foiled upon opening up my text conversation.
Derek, you need to come home NOW. The text read. Someone broke into the house and rummaged through the basement and stole just about everything. Whoever did this also kidnapped your father. Hurry!
Attached to the message were three images. One of them was of the basement. Everything looked to be destroyed. Shattered glass and papers littered the floor while every single drawer was open. The only thing left in-tact was the identity machine, but the burglar definitely attempted to destroy it as indicated by the dents. The second image was just a close-up of said dents.
The third image, the most gruesome of the set, put me into a panic. It was of a piece of paper that had been written on with a permanent marker. The sign read: 'Turn yourselves in and he'll keep the remaining nine.' with a severed finger taped onto the bottom corner. As if that alone wasn't enough to make me nauseous, the blood smeared over areas of the paper made my stomach churn.
At the risk of sounding like a self-serving bastard, I normally wouldn't dare to think about rushing to their aid. With how reckless my parents were as criminals, they had this one coming to them. They could've pissed off a drug rival one too many times, or they could've killed someone who had direct ties to their own mafia. With the kind of life they lived, nothing was exactly far-fetched.
What set off the red alert in my mind was the threat. Whoever this person was knew my parents and what they've done, and by extension, they had to have known me and what I've done. The looming idea of them blackmailing us into turning ourselves in scared me to no end. Because if the cops caught on to my crimes, it would no longer matter whether or not Cody stood on my side because I would be behind bars.
I couldn't let that happen. I had come way too far to let everything go.
"You good?" Cody asked with concern. "You're, like, heart attack pale right now." Honestly, with all the stuff that was piled on me, I didn't totally dismiss the possibility of me having one.
"Family emergency," I replied. I quickly texted my mother back and told her I would be there, then looked up at Cody. "I gotta go."
"Well, shit," he gasped. "Need me to come with? I still have time to call my boss and tell him I'm sick."
"No!" I screamed in a panicked tone, which only seemed to increase his worry. No, he definitely couldn't come with. That would not only be the worst way to come out to him about who I really was, but it would also put him in danger. I took in a shallow breath before continuing, hoping to ease my voice. "I mean, I really appreciate the offer, but it really would be better if you didn't get involved."
He set down his water and walked over to me. "Please keep me updated? I'm really worried about you."
"Yes, of course," I assured him as I slid my phone into my pocket. "I'll let you know."
Cody stared at me for a moment. "Would it be okay if I kissed you?" He tilted his head. "I wanna do something to help ease your worries and... this is all I got."
"It totally would be okay," I responded. A gentle reminder that he was still with me would be enough to get me through the impending crisis that was about to unfold. As he took me in for a kiss, I did my absolute best to remember the sensation that I was being met with. I swore to myself that this wasn't going to be the last time that I would ever kiss him. I would find a way out of this mess one way or another.
Unfortunately, I could only allow the kiss to last a few seconds before I had to break away and run off with another promise that I would keep in touch with Cody. He still seemed very unnerved as I left him. It was obvious that he really wanted to help out. One day I would allow him to take care of me, but for this particular scenario, I needed to go in solo.
As opposed to taking the elevator, I took the stairs down to the bottom-floor of the building. I damn near tripped a few times and almost knocked over an older woman carrying groceries from the farmer's market, but I eventually reached the ground floor and bolted out of there in record time.
My heart thumped faster than I was running, beating hard enough to sound off in my ears. As my face became hot and thunderbolts ran down my legs, I kept up a speedy pace as to cover as much ground as possible. Never had I ran so quick towards anything in my life. But when my life was at stake, timing was everything.
* * *
"I'm here!" I announced as I barged in through the front door. I stopped for a moment to bend at my knees and take a few breaths while my hand leaned up against the wall. Sweat coated just about every part of my skin, and I was feeling hot enough to cook meat on my body. I took public transit for part of the trip here, but it didn't change how much running was equated for the rest of it.
A quick glance to the side and I found my mother in the kitchen, leaning up against the counter with a shaken-up aura. "You have a lot of explaining to do." I pointed to her as I trotted towards where she was standing. "First off, who the fuck did this and how could you and Dad be so stupid as to let this happen?"
My mother hopelessly threw her arms up in response. "I... I have no idea. So many people are out for us." She looked to be on the verge of tears.
"Start thinking of names," I barked the order at her. "Whoever this is, we need to negotiate with them and quickly. And don't take my presence here as a sign of wanting to protect you both. I'm only in this to save my own ass." I may not have accepted the offer to be a leader within the operation, but I certainly felt like a leader in that moment.
Right after I dispersed those words, I heard the sound of whistling coming from the nearby hallway. My head immediately shot towards where I heard the sound. Who else could possibly be here? I wondered. It could've been the burglar, or someone involved with them, looking to confront us. In which case, I readied my stance to tackle this person to the ground. But when the person in question came into view, I took a step back in utter shock.
He dried his hands off with a towel before tossing it by the sink. "Just finished cleaning the downstairs, honey!" I then met with his eyes as his head turned towards me. "Oh, hey there, buddy," he warmly greeted. "How are things?"
I stammered, my eyes shrinking to the size of a pulp. "You... you..."
My father then raised both of his hands and wiggled his fingers. "No worries, they're all here and accounted for." He added a giggle to the end of that. "Nice to know you care about your old man enough to check on him, though."
"You motherfuckers!" I screamed, slamming my fist into the fridge as the sound of it reverberated through the kitchen. They were lucky that was all I said to them. I had such a strong urge to throw out every cuss word known to man that my teeth hurt from trying to bite them back.
My mother shed her worry and turned to face me with her usual serious complexion. "We wouldn't have gone to such extreme lengths if we thought you would've come here by just asking." As if that was any fucking justification.
"So, just to be clear, the only psychos here are you two, right?!" My chest was roaring with such rage that it could've manifested a deadly beast. This was one of the most screwed up things they had ever done to me, and it angered me to no end that I gave them the satisfaction of such a dastardly plan working.
"Psycho?" My father grimaced. "At least show a little respect. I like to see myself as a mastermind. Though, I do have to admit, the finger thing was your mom's idea alone." I didn't even want to know how they did that. It seemed unlikely that it was a fake finger, which means it probably came from a mark. Dammit. If I would've thought this through for five minutes, I could've held a more rational view to this situation.
I huffed. "Yeah, congratu-fucking-lations on that one. You totally didn't traumatize me and also scare the shit out of my boy-" I covered my mouth with my hand. Busted.
"Oh, is that where you were?" my mother asked with her eyebrows raised. "My, we could've retrieved you had we known. It would've saved you both the trip and the stress."
My father tutted for a moment. "Not good, kid. Didn't we already warn you to end things with him? I 'spose it's time for a punishment." My mother hummed in agreement.
Fury continued to fume out of me as I grabbed my phone. My next words came out through gritted teeth. "I'm going to text Cody and tell him that everything's fine. You two at least owe me that." I started to pull up our text conversation, but my phone was yanked out of my hands before I could start texting him anything.
"I'll take that," my mother calmly announced before roughly tossing it towards the counter. "One thing you severely lack in this household is respect-"
"Because you two are jackasses," I growled in interruption.
"Which further proves my point." She shot me a pointed glare, admonishing my actions. "You've become more obstinate and strident in recent times. It's high time you learn your place in this family and show respect to others."
My father nodded with his arms crossed. "She's right."
"Jesus, are you two scolding a nineteen-year-old or a nine-year-old?" I scoffed. "I can hardly tell the difference."
"You tell me," my mother responded. "You seem to be acting more like the latter."
A sudden burst of anger came on again. "Because you two decided to make me think we were all going to fucking prison!" I balled my fists up as my vision focused heavily on the two of them. It would almost be worth the domestic abuse charges to give them bloody faces at the mercy of my knuckles. That was the very least that they deserved.
My father must've sensed my thoughts, because he walked forward and restrained me by pressing his hand up against my chest. He held me up against the refrigerator, and the cold from the stainless steel immediately sent shocks through my neck as it leaned up against the doors.
"Get off me!" I protested. I tried to wriggle free of my father's hand, but his force overpowered mine. My vision became blurry shortly after.
"Let's just get down to business, shall we?" he grinned. His face obstructed the hazy view I had of my mother, but I could only imagine that she displayed a similar mood. "You're going to carry out another assassination for us, plain and simple."
"Fuck no," I harshly rejected. They weren't getting their way on this one. I refused. I just needed to get out of here and run far away from them.
My father continued to deliver instructions as if my previous words never reached his ears. "His name's Dennis Adamos. He thought he could get away with double-crossing us. Let's just say he hoarded a lot of drugs for himself and made his own profit off of them." He chuckled. "Funny thing is, the boy thinks we don't know anything."
"I said no." A sneer spread across my lips. "I'm not doing another assassination. I still have nightmares after the last one, and you guys couldn't erase the trauma from it! You merely hollowed out the guy I shot, but I still remember everything else."
My mother chortled at that, prompting me to crane my head to the side to catch her gaze. She was receiving an unnecessary amount of delight from this ordeal. "You mean, you remember it how we wanted you to."
"What is that supposed to mean?" I snarled. If it was up to them, I wouldn't have even remembered the incident. They would never render me useless like that.
"The ability to control your memories isn't just limited to erasing them, kiddo," my father answered for her. "We can also change how you remember them."
I merely froze at that statement, finding it difficult for my mind to process. My agitation had already reached full capacity, leaving me with no further progression to take my emotions. I was merely a stagnant dose of potent rancor. Seriously, what were they trying to do to me? If I didn't know any better, I would say they wanted me to go into cardiac arrest so that they couldn't be blamed for my murder.
My face made a scowl at my father. "So much for your mother's grave, you lying piece of shit." Screw me for thinking that he was at least slightly better than my other parent.
"That night when you killed the mark in a faux drug sale," my mother pointed out. "He raised a gun to you which caused you to raise yours, right? The reality of the situation plays out a lot differently. From what I saw on the camera, the mark looked so scared. The poor man was begging for his life, yet you shot him anyways. How evil you are." A small laugh emerged.
"You're lying!" I directed my scream at her. They had to be. I wouldn't have shot a man like that. I wasn't ruthless. I wasn't them.
My answer came shortly thereafter. "We figured that it would lessen your trauma if we changed up the memory. In this case, you would always view it as an act of self-defense and not a ruthless assassination. You're welcome for that."
"I said you're fucking lying!" I screamed again, straining my vocal cords in the process. My face had to have been a literal cherry at this point, a shade darker than my mother's lipstick. "You don't get to control me like that!" I fought as hard as I could to break free from my father's hand, but he kept me held there without budging even a centimeter.
My mother took notice of my futile resistance and delved into taunting me. She slowly paced forward to where I was, putting devious enthusiasm into each of her following words. "This is how we can control you. In a couple of days time, you won't remember this conversation. And if you do, we can change it to something more... pleasant." Her lips curved into a smile as she stood mere inches away from me. "Maybe you'll believe that you were obedient and took on the task willingly."
"You're out of your goddamn minds if you think this is going to make me do the assassination!" I coughed after saying that. My voice couldn't take much more of this screaming, but my body kept forcing it to hang on.
My father stepped back, giving me the space to move off of the refrigerator. I nearly rushed right into him, but my body was trembling too much to gather my bearings. "Come on, buddy. We're giving you a lethal syringe to use instead of a gun. It won't be the same as last time."
With my meanest stare, I raised up my middle finger. "Take that as your answer." I was so over this conversation that it wasn't even funny. I could feel my muscles begin to collapse in exhaustion.
That signature fake gasp of my mother emerged. "Well, I suppose if you're going to be that heated about it..." Her words trailed off, knowing that I would pick them up from there. The jail threat. That same leash they had been using on me for years was being used yet again.
"I am so sick of you guys and that fucking jail threat!" I shouted. "If you guys want me in there so bad, call them! I dare you." Was I really thinking rationally about this? I just told my parents to send me to jail, which meant I was risking my relationship with Cody. Fuck. The stress was really starting to impair my judgement, but the worst had yet to come.
My father let out a low laugh while shaking his head. "Oh no, bud. We're a little tired of that method ourselves. We have something more... creative in mind." Before I could even begin to form a guess as to what he meant by that, I watched as my father pulled something out of his jacket and held it right up to my forehead. It was cold and hard to the touch.
The sight of it alone set off a chain reaction that ultimately reduced me to a squirming mess. My pupils shrank as my vision became blurry. A loud ringing hit my ears, distorting any other noise in the room. Everything inside and outside shook like the Cascadia earthquake as the horrors of my experiences came flooding back all at once.
A gun. A fucking gun. I internally panicked. My hands instinctively shot up in the air. They're actually... My thoughts couldn't progress any further. The only thing stopping me from dropping to the floor unconscious was my fear of what would happen if I was incoherent under their control.
Everything froze. Time was sedated by fear which only created more fear. "What the fuck, Dad?" My voice came out in a jittery whisper after a few seconds.
He showed off a toothy grin. "She's a beauty, ain't she? It's always been my favorite, and it hasn't missed a single target yet."
I swallowed the scream that ached to be let out. "You're..." My voice faded out for a moment as an aggressive tear leaked out of my eye. "...psychopath." The loudness in me sharply decreased and was replaced by my most vulnerable state. I couldn't find the confidence to be angry, not when all around me were dark clouds of terror.
A shrug was all I received in response. "As much as it pains me to say, you're technically disposable. You hold no deep ties to us because you refuse to work for us. We don't have any real reason to protect someone who doesn't offer favors in exchange. So, if you refuse to comply, well... I guess that just shows how little you value your life."
My gaze quickly darted between my mother and father. Both of them carried such serious expressions, and they refused to waver no matter how many seconds went by. This wasn't a joke. They actually found themselves so consumed by their desire to control me that they were willingly threatening my own life just to take someone else's. It was a clear reality, yet my spiraling mind still met their threat with denial.
"No. No. You guys wouldn't be that stupid." My voice slowly returned. The next words crescendoed into a shout. "You wouldn't be that fucking stupid to kill your own son!"
My father cocked the gun without a moment's hesitation. His glare only became more intimidating as it dug deep into my soul like a drill forming a massive hole. "You really want to bet your chances on that?" I noticed that his finger rested against the trigger. One gentle push and my entire existence would be erased in the blink of an eye.
Just let them do it! One of my sides screamed. This is only the start. They'll keep doing this. They'll keep waving that gun in front of you to do all their dirty deeds. Right now it's murder. In six months, they could be forcing you to rob a national bank! Just take the easy way out. Let them kill you before you benefit them any further.
I dismissed those thoughts when the image of somebody came to mind. Cody. He was the only thing keeping me from letting my father open fire. I knew that the life I wanted existed within his realm. My key to opening the door to a better life started with his love. I needed him that badly. I needed him to save me and show me the opportunities that I never got.
Right then and there, I promised myself that my new life would start as early as that night. "I'll do it," I seethed between breaths, reluctantly. "But mark my words you two. This is the last you'll ever see of me. This mark better be worth his fucking salt."
My mother let out a fake laugh. She kept doing that. My feelings were that much of a joke to her. "If you really think things will work out that way, sure. Before you know it, you either won't remember this conversation or you'll remember it much differently. The whole scheme of threatening your life will seem novel later down the road because you'll never realize we already used it once before." She pulled the syringe out of her pocket and held it out for me to grab. "You might want to consider taking more initiative within this family, Derek. Believe it or not, we're much nicer to people who are more... compliant."
With a shaky grip, I lowered one of my hands and grabbed the syringe. While doing so, I paid close attention to her expression. The corners of her mouth were pointed upwards in a cheery expression once again. She was proud of herself for slaving me around, and she wanted me to know it at that moment. My arm faced a strong urge to stab the needle right through her throat, but then I remembered: a gun was still pointed at me. The moment she dies, I die.
"Terrific," my father commented in his usual upbeat tone. "If you don't got anything else to say, the three of us will wait until evening. I think we shall enjoy some quality family time until then. Home videos, anyone? I think it'd be fun to see the collection of our son's finest moments." The prideful face that he had on while proposing that idea proved to be more sinister than his words. That twisted image burned itself into the fabric of my memory and left a mental scar in its wake.
My mother clasped her hands together, putting on a similar expression. "I think that's a good idea. Our son is about to embark on a huge journey. It only seems fair to celebrate his other accomplishments." She positioned her glance towards her husband. "Why don't you two make yourselves cozy in the living room and I'll prepare some snacks?"
That was when I lost my grip. My legs lost their sense of balance and I slowly fell to the floor. I could've stayed there and lost my will to live, but I was dragged out of that idea when my father bent down and grabbed my shirt collar. With the strength that he had, he pulled me up until I could stand on my two feet.
I felt like falling again, but my father grabbed my arm and guided my walking towards the living room. "Come on, kiddo. I'll help you to the couch." He made sure to keep the gun on me the entire time, just so that I could be reminded that there was no escaping this mischievous plot of theirs.
I was nothing more than an emotionless corpse. I was broken machinery. I was a hollowed out toy. Those were the analogies that ran through my head as the soul was sucked out of me while my parents kept me hostage. My mind dissociated itself from reality, and in doing so, my parents didn't look like human beings any longer.
Cody. That was the only word I could form as I slumped down against the couch. Cody. It came up again as my father sat next to me with the gun resting against my temple. Cody. That name rang through my head a third time just as my eyes started to glaze over with haze.
Cody, I'm hanging on for you. I knew that he couldn't hear my thoughts, but it was nice to believe that I was talking to him. I'm doing all of this so that we can have a life together. You mean so much to me that I'm putting myself through this.
My father let out a long, relaxed sigh as he grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned on the TV. In contrast to the iron grip he had on the gun, he lazily held on to the remote while he pulled up the video feed of all my worst moments in life. "Any special requests?" I heard him ask me. "Actually, nevermind. I think it's better if we start things in order. Let's start with the first time you assisted me on an assassination. Five years old was where it all started, dear boy. This was just before I started teaching you how to shoot a gun. Boy, time sure does fly."
None of what he said elicited a response out of me. I remained motionless and allowed my vision to obscure the sights in front of me so that I wouldn't be forced to relive all of the wrongdoings I had committed in my miserable lifetime.
I'm telling you everything tonight, Cody. And when I do, I'm asking for your hand in marriage. I can't live without knowing that you're mine forever, Cody.
Through my blocky field of sight, I saw the playback begin to load. The replay of my younger self, even though not fully clear, made me sick to my stomach. I was so small, fragile, and absent-minded. Things were simple and pleasant before corruption fused itself with my innocent soul. Now, as I sat there with my life literally on the line, I questioned if I would ever feel normal just like that boy on the screen felt normal at one point.
I can't live without you, Cody. You're the only thing that can keep me from death's arms...