No Justice for the Damned (Tales from the Tarot)

8. Chapter 8

Chapter eight

A be. I need to find Abe. I dial his number and nothing. Straight to voicemail. Again.

“Dammit,” I hiss, shoving the phone into my pocket. I shouldn’t be driving and trying to call him. Shouldn’t be driving at all really. My splinted fingers make it hard to grip the handlebars. My ribs heave at the wind’s harsh gusts. I feel off balance, woozy. Almost as though I’m drunk. But I haven’t had a drop.

Those images Hollow showed me aren’t real. Can’t be real. I won’t accept them.

I don’t know how he did it, don’t know how he’s still alive, how he healed the wound I gouged into his chest. I can’t make sense of anything. This feels like a dream, like a living nightmare. One I can’t escape from. And it won’t resolve itself. I can’t wake up.

I need to see Abe.

I skid to a sharp stop in front of his apartment building and immediately, I sense something strange. There’s a low light flickering in his window, bodies moving behind the curtains. Abe is always alone. He’s told me before he prefers the solitude, trusts no one enough to welcome them into his personal space. And yet I know. Someone is inside there with him. And for the past twenty-four hours, he hasn’t answered or returned my calls. What if that someone inside his apartment is unwelcome? What if they’ve done something to hurt him…

I stop that thought in its tracks and hasten toward his front door when it opens in front of me. I come face to face with a man I recognize, but someone I never expected to see on Abe’s doorstep.

Father Alexis? The young priest who stood so close to Father’s side at yesterday’s service. His smooth brown hair is slicked back, his bright green eyes shimmering as they widen to take me in. “Killian,” he says in lieu of a greeting.

“Where’s my brother?” I grit out.

“Kill?” From behind him, in the doorway, I hear Abe’s voice. He’s peering out at me from the dimly lit space, his face not visible through the darkness within.

Immediately, I’m simultaneously relieved and irritated. “You’re not answering my calls,” I snap.

Father Alexis moves to stand in front of the door in a gesture I don’t quite like. Something like protectiveness. Like he has any right to protect my brother from me . “Abraham isn’t feeling well,” he says and I bare my teeth in frustration, prepared to bite out a retort.

“Lex,” Abe’s voice echoes out and I nearly choke. What the fuck is this?

Abe steps out of the darkness and into the pale pooling glow of the streetlight and the sight of his face takes my breath away. Dark circles lie beneath his striking blue eyes, his cheeks looking pale and gaunt. His blond hair looks almost dull where it twists this way and that on his head. It’s unbrushed, oily, unmanaged. He looks terrible .

Alexis is staring at him with a pinched expression as though seeing Abe in his current state hurts. And it does. But why it would hurt this priest is beyond me. I didn’t know they even knew each other, much less were close enough to visit each other’s homes. It’s unlike Abe. It’s suspicious. An immediate flare of unwanted jealousy fires to life inside of me.

“What happened to you?” I ask, my voice flat.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He observes me coldly, without the faintest hint of a smile and I realize I don’t know what I look like. After my fight with Hollow, and the previous night’s proceedings with Eli and Father, I must look an absolute wreck. Absently, I run a hand through my disheveled hair, combing through some of the knots and ignoring the pain in my scalp at the pull.

“I need to talk to you. Now.”

Abe grimaces. “Everything in your time, isn’t that right?”

He’s angry with me, I see it now, written plain as day on his face. Is this about Father? Leaving Abe with him in the Church? I feel a stab of guilt that I force down into my gullet.

“Why weren’t you answering my calls?”

“I was…preoccupied.”

“With him?” I nod my head toward Father Alexis who meets my gaze with a cool, somber glare.

“That’s none of your business.”

“It is my business. You look like shit.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

“Abe.” My mouth has gone dry from this line of conversation. I need him. I need to talk to him. I need him to help me see the truth in the web of lies Hollow has spun in my mind. I need him to tell me that none of it… none of it …is real. “Please.”

I hate the desperation that’s leached into my voice, the way it cracks as tears seep from the corners of my eyes, but it seems to do something to Abe. His expression softens, his brows creasing together. “You’re not yourself,” he says and I shake my head.

“No.”

His eyes dart between me and the priest before finally fixing on me once more. “Come in then,” he moves out of the doorway to allow me entrance inside.

“Abraham,” Father Alexis says, his voice tight. He reaches out and Abe takes his hand. A thrill of irritation shoots through me, raising my hackles like a threatened dog. Mine, a voice in the back of my head says and I could almost choke from the shame of it.

I push past them both to enter Abe’s apartment as I hear my brother whisper, “It’s okay, Lex. I’ll be fine. Trust me. Please.”

I turn to see Abe squeeze the priest’s hand before he turns his back. Father Alexis watches him go before finally heading out into the night, his shoulders pulled tight against the chilly air. As Abe shuts the door behind him, the stillness of the room envelopes us both. He looks at me with large, tired eyes. Eyes that question and accuse, both at the same time.

“Well?” he asks. One word that’s filled with such tension.

And all of a sudden, my mouth is dry and filled with sand. I have so many things I want to say and no clue where to start. “What was he doing here?” I manage, and Abe scoffs.

“What does it matter to you?”

“I thought you hated the Church. The priests.”

“And yet you left me there. Among them. Alone.”

The words feel like being doused with ice water. “Abe—”

“Go on. Make your excuse.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, leaning back against the door frame and keeping his distance from me. “You always have one.”

I grimace. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry,” he huffs.

“I am,” I insist. “I shouldn’t have left you. I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t. I needed you. I needed you there with me. And you left me. Do you have any idea…” he trails off, his voice becoming soft.

“Any idea, what?” I’m afraid to ask but I do it anyway. “What happened after I left, Abe? Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

He looks at me, eyes filled with wetness. And my heart aches to see him look like that. “I shouldn’t have gone back,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “I shouldn’t have let you convince me…”

I steel myself, approaching carefully. “What. Happened.”

He straightens, pulling away. “You came here because you said you needed to talk. So. Talk.”

Images flash unbidden through my mind once more. Memories. Memories planted by Hollow. False memories meant to confuse me and torment me. To deter me from my purpose. But as I look at my brother now, I see the face of that young boy. I can almost feel the determination I felt in those moments, holding myself together only to prevent something horrible from befalling him.

I don’t even know where to begin. “How much do you remember from when we were kids?”

He raises a brow at that, assessing me with a strange look. Not cold but not warm.

“When we were kids?” he asks and I nod. “Why are you asking me this?”

I shake my head, bite my lip. I’m off kilter again.

“Your hands are shaking.”

I hadn’t even noticed. I look down to see the tremble that’s taken over my limbs. “How much, Abe?”

“There’s a reason you don’t remember our childhood, Killian. You weren’t meant to.”

“What are you saying?” I growl. “Tell me what you know.”

“I don’t want to,” Abe says softly. Like he’s talking to a child.

“Why, dammit?” My hands ball into fists at my sides as I glare at him. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because I don’t want you to know. Because you’re better off not knowing. It will only hurt you.”

I choke back a sob. That’s answer enough in and of itself. But it’s not enough. It’s not enough at all. “It’s not true.”

He neither confirms nor denies it. Just stands there staring at me, cold and aloof and unshakeable.

“Damn you, tell me it's not true!” I realize I’m shouting and still Abe is unmoved. He watches me like one might watch the tantrum of a petulant child. “No.” I feel panic overwhelming all my senses. “No. This is ridiculous. This isn’t real.”

“Kill.” His composure is slipping now. He’s straightening his shoulders and drawing nearer, seeing the panic in my face. The shake in my limbs. “What happened? When did you remember?”

“There’s nothing to remember!” I scream. He freezes in place like a frightened animal. “You’re lying! Hollow was lying!”

“Hollow?” His wide eyes search me, trying desperately to understand. But how can I make him understand?

“Father wouldn’t…” My voice breaks. Because would he? I know he’s capable of cruelty, of cold, callousness. But this? This is beyond anything I’ve ever imagined. Darker than the darkest deeds he’s asked me to perform in his service.

Abe watches me and for the briefest moment, my younger brother looks old. So much older than his years. “He would, Kill. He did.”

“How long?” I gasp. “How long have you known?”

“For a while. A few years, I think. The memories come in waves. But the longer I was away from him, the more real they became. Almost like…he was staunching them somehow. I think…I think it was the Drug. He was giving it to me, to us both without our knowledge. To suppress those memories. And now that I’ve been apart from him, they’ve come back. All of them. So vivid.” He clenches his teeth, his entire body seeming on edge, pent up and tight like a coiled spring.

“And you didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t want to,” Abe snaps. “God, Kill. Isn’t it better not to know? Especially when the knowing hurts. So bad. Doesn’t it? And even now, that you do know, you’re still denying it!”

He’s not wrong. I don’t want to believe it. I really, really don’t want to believe it. I would give anything not to believe it.

“What happened?” he asks, drawing nearer, but hesitant. “Something happened that caused you to remember. What?”

I can’t even begin to try to explain this all to him. Hollow, our fight. The dream. The way he showed me things he had no business knowing. The way he didn’t die. He’s testing the fabric of what I’ve always believed to be my reality. In so many ways. And I feel like I’m going crazy.

“The other day. At the Church. When I left you. What happened after I left you?”

Abe stills as our eyes lock. I’m breathing heavily, my body heaving with this newfound reality. Abe’s expression hardens and goes desperately cold.

“What do you think happened?”

“Father?” I ask, not wanting to know.

“Yes.”

“He didn’t.”

“Of course he did. Just like he used to when I was a child. He took me into his office and he pushed me again the desk and…and I just let him. I didn’t even fight back.” He says those words so coldly, without any hint of emotion. Like he’s dead inside. Like remembering it is nothing more than a harsh reality, a resigned truth.

“But I…” I choke. “I protected you. I wouldn’t have let anyone…”

“Is that what you think?” His voice is barely more than a whisper as he approaches. “You really think he wouldn’t do exactly what he wanted to do? That he wouldn’t lie to you to make you think you’d protected me?”

And then the world shifts. It wasn’t just me. It was never just me. I never truly protected my brother. My brother who was always Father’s favorite.

“Father sold you, Killian. But he kept me to himself.”

No. No. No. This is wrong. This is so wrong. In my mind, I picture things I don’t want to see. Abe, little Abe, soft blond hair and big blue eyes. Being hurt by the man I’ve loved for so long. The man I’ve given everything to and for. Father wouldn’t…he wouldn’t…

“Why would you go back with me then? Why would you willingly go back?”

“Father never touched me with you around. I thought as long as you were there…”

My stomach clenches and curdles, like my insides are burning up with molten fire. I feel sick. This is my fault. Anything that happened to Abe that night is my fault.

“Father knows about Alexis and me. I don’t know how, but he does. Father would have hurt him.”

“Alexis and you ?” But I know. Of course I know. The way they were looking at each other. The way Alexis reached out and touched him. The priest is in love with my brother. And Abe feels something for him in return. A part of me breaks at that revelation. As if all of this wasn’t enough already, knowing that Abe has feelings for someone else destroys me.

“And before you say something stupid like, ‘Alexis should just leave,’ or ‘we should leave together,’ you know that’s not possible. Father will never let us go. Alexis is trapped just like I’m trapped just like you have always been trapped. Father has us all strung up so tightly that any wrong movements will strangle us. He’ll kill us. He won’t hesitate. Because none of us means anything to him. Not anything more than what we can provide. You least of all. And you’re only just now seeing it. I feel sorry for you.”

I stagger, his words hurting more than I could have ever possibly imagined. They’re like a knife in my side, a pounding, incessant rhythm in my head. I’m lost. Where can I go from here? My world is crumbling, my reality shattered in only a matter of a few hours. I have Hollow to thank for this. I hate him. I hate him for doing this to me.

“Why are you saying this?” I plead. I can barely see him through the tears that have welled in my eyes. Who is this man, this weak, disheveled, broken man I’ve become?

Abe pauses, staring at me and for a moment, a look of pity washes over his face. “I love you, Killian. You’re my brother. But when I started remembering, there was a part of me that wondered if you knew. If you’d always known.”

“What?” I gasp. The thought that I’d have known and done nothing, that Abe thinks me capable of such cruelty and indifference, makes me nauseous.

“You’ve always done everything Father asked of you. Everything,” he says with a hint of a bite in his tone. A hint of disgust.

“That’s not the same,” I retort.

“Isn’t it? You sell yourself! He sells you!”

“Is that what you see me as? A whore? You think so lowly of me that you really think I’d do nothing if I thought Father was hurting you?”

“You’ve done nothing to prove otherwise!”

That hurts like a slap across the face. The sting of it shoots through me, ice in my veins, heat burning over my skin. “I gave myself so you’d be spared. I pleaded for you. I remember it. I didn’t before but I remember it now.”

“Father used us against each other. I thought I was doing the same for you.”

My head reels. My heart hurts. I reach out to him. He doesn’t pull away. But as my hands graze his skin, a flash of something shoots through me. Another memory. Another memory I don’t want.

“You like those trucks? The ones that drive themselves? My Father has some. You just have to come outside with me and we can play with them together.” My voice. I hear my voice. See the little boy’s eyes go wide with excitement.

“I can play with them?”

“As much as you want. You just have to come with me. I’ll show you where they are.”

“I have to ask my mom first.”

“No.” Panic overwhelms me as I hear myself respond. “No. you don’t need to ask her. Father already asked her. She said it’s fine.”

“Okay,” the little Abe in my memory says, the wonder only a child is capable of shining in his cherubic face. He was so sweet, so innocent back then. I hold out my hand and he takes it, smiling at me. He has eyes only for me as I lead him away from the toy store, farther and farther away from the parents who left him unattended for only a moment. Only one moment too long.

I gasp, crashing back into the present moment, desperate and horrified. I’m on my knees in my brother’s arms, trembling, trembling all over. “No,” I grit.

“Kill?” Abe’s staring at me with wide eyes, dumbfounded. Something just passed between us and neither of us can truly comprehend what. “What happened?”

I shake my head, getting to my feet, pulling away. “I can’t. Not this.”

“What?” Abe persists. “Tell me.”

I back up and he tracks me with his eyes. “I have to go.”

“Go where?” he snaps.

“Anywhere. Anywhere but here.”

“ You stormed in here! Demanded to see me . And now you’re leaving! Just like that. Without telling me why.”

There’s no way, no way I can tell him what I’ve seen. The shame that now courses through me like a living, breathing entity.

“I can’t. None of this makes any sense.”

“So explain it to me.” There’s a desperation on his face. Something close to pleading.

“I can’t.” The entirety of my reality has just come crashing down on me. The very framework of my life. Nothing seems real. I need to process all of this. I can’t do it here.

“Don’t you dare leave me again.”

My breath catches in my throat. The blow he’s just struck is devastating. He has no idea how devastating. Or maybe he does.

Abe looks at me now with eyes filled with tears, his normally stoic face filled with emotion as his lip wobbles in an attempt not to cry. He reminds me now so much of that little boy in my memories. The one I stole away on Father’s orders. The one I unwittingly trapped.

“This is all my fault,” I whisper. “Everything that’s ever happened to you is my fault.”

“That’s not true.” He locks me in his gaze, a gaze so pure and honest there’s no way he could know the truth.

“You told me about your dream,” I continue even though it hurts. It hurts so badly I can barely breathe. “You told me you saw your parents.”

He freezes as though he’s been caught in a snare. Immobile, terrified. With great effort and strain, he nods.

“You weren’t an orphan. You had a family and I stole you away from them. I brought you here. I remember it now.”

“You, what?” His expression has hardened, a cool mask spreading over his delicate, beautiful features. He’ll never forgive me. Once I say these next words, he’ll hate me for the rest of our lives.

“lured you away. Told you I had a toy you wanted. And you came with me. And you never saw your parents again.”

A breath falls between us, heavy and fraught and tense. He looks at me like I’m crazy. Then realization dawns over him like the light of day. He begins to shake harder, his entire body going rigid. “You?”

I nod.

“Why?”

“I don’t…” But I do know. For the same reason I’ve ever done anything. Because it’s what Father wanted. Father wanted Abe. And I delivered.

“When? Where?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I don’t recognize any of it.” I want to tell him I was a child. That I was impressionable. That it wasn’t my fault. Not really. But what good would that do? It won’t change anything.

“I want you to leave,” he finally says.

“Abe—”

“Now.”

I’ve done it. I’ve pushed my brother away once and for all. Now, he’ll hate me forever. This is irreparable. He’ll never forgive me, which is nothing more than I deserve.

I steel myself as he allows tears to flow freely down his cheeks. I don’t say anything more, don’t try to, as I head past him to the front door and soundlessly exit, pulling it shut behind me. And then, alone on the stoop just outside his apartment, I fall to my knees and sob.

It’s the first time I’ve cried since I was a child. The first time I’ve broken down and unleashed any sort of emotions like this. I know that inside his apartment, Abe is doing the same. I can’t comfort him, can’t go to him and hold him and dry his tears and that kills me even more.

It strikes me then that I don’t have anywhere to go. I can’t go home. I can’t stay here.

I need answers. I need to know how Hollow put these memories in my head. How he seems to know so much about me, about Father.

I pull myself back to my feet, force the tears to dry as I wipe my face clean.

“Fuck,” I huff, digging in my pocket to retrieve my phone.

We need to talk, I type out and hit send.

Only a few seconds pass before his response pings back. Meet me. And he sends me an address. One I’m familiar with. It’s a warehouse Father uses as a front for the business. An underground supplier for the Drug.

I consider asking how he knows this address then think better of it. He likely won’t tell me the truth anyway.