Page 16 of The Cleaner

Walkinginto that room and seeing that asshole advance on Lisa made my blood boil. She's sixteen, for fuck’s sake, and that motherfucker Jack wanted to hit her. He and his stupid asshole friends have been wanting to join the Houlihan Gang for some time now and it's a hell no. No man who works for Jer will ever lay a hand on a woman, nor will they rape or attempt to rape one either, and those cunts tried that tonight. When Jer finds out he's going to be livid.

The moment my gaze collided with Lisa's and I saw the anger she had in her eyes, it impressed me, but slowly, the anger faded and I saw something that reminded me of the night at Callie's apartment, of the girl who sat on the bench who looked broken. I know without a shadow of a doubt that this girl is the exact same one. It's been three years since I last saw her and even that was only a glimpse a few times, but I know it's the same one. She's good at putting on a facade. She's hiding her pain, but it's still there; it still lingers within her. I witnessed it tonight.

I glance out the window of my car to the house she's dragged her friend to. She urged me not to get out, not to help; said Tammy wouldn't like it. I have no fucking idea who Tammy is,but if it were my daughter, I'd be the same, except I'd be grateful that someone saved her from those cunts who tried to hurt her. Currently, Lisa and Tammy are having a discussion on the porch. It seems intense from where I'm sitting. Then again, it most likely is.

A few minutes later, Lisa returns and slides into the car. "Are you sure you're okay giving me a ride home?"

"Yeah, of course. How's your friend?" I ask as I pull away from the kerb.

I hear her heavy sigh. "She's okay. She'll have a headache in the morning and will probably get a lecture from Tammy. But she's okay and she'll be okay."

I have a feeling there's a lot more to her words than meets the eye, but I leave it. It's not my monkey, not my circus.

"You'll be home soon, Lisa. Just sit back and relax," I urge her.

I glance over at her a few minutes later and see that she's got her eyes closed and is breathing softly. I have no idea if she's asleep or not, but she seems peaceful.

Forty minutes later, I'm pulling into a familiar street. My body's tense. Fuck, it's been three years since I've been back here and I didn't think I would be. The last time I saw this place, I was pulling my sister from the fire. I roll the car to a stop outside the bench I saw her sitting on and gently push her shoulder. "Hey, Lisa, we're here."

She sits up straight, her eyes wide and alert, watching me carefully.

"Hey, it's okay. You fell asleep. I didn't mean to scare you. We're here."

She blinks, shaking her head slightly. "Sorry," she says sheepishly, giving me a wry smile. "Thank you, yo—" Her words cut off as she stares out the window, her entire body shaking.

"Lisa?" I ask, my voice filled with confusion and concern. What the hell just happened? One moment she was fine, and the next she was trembling uncontrollably. I quickly reach out and grab her shoulders, shaking her gently in an attempt to snap her out of it. But instead of a response, a piercing shriek escapes from her lips, cutting through the air like a knife. It echoes around the car and sends chills down my spine, causing me to pull back in shock. Something is definitely wrong.

“Why?” she cries. “Why would you bring me here?” she asks, hurt and anger lacing her words.

“This is your home…” I say, wondering if I’m wrong.

She glances between the apartment and me. “How did you know?”

“My sister lived there,” I tell her, pointing across the street. “I saw you reading on the bench a few times.”

She continues to tremble. “That was years ago,” she says angrily. “How did you know it was me?”

I pause, unsure of how to respond. Lisa's eyes bore into mine, searching for answers that I'm not sure I have. Taking a deep breath, I decide to be honest with her. “Your eyes,” I tell her honestly. “Three years ago, you looked lonely and broken. Your eyes had huge dark circles around them, your cheeks were hollow, and you looked as if the weight of the world rested squarely on your shoulders. You were reading a book. It looked as though you had no idea that someone was watching you.”

I watch her pull in a sharp breath. “It was you. You were the man who got out of the car the day the apartment complex was on fire.” She’s slowly starting to stop trembling, her breathing is evening out, and she’s no longer looking so scared.

I nod. “Yeah. I guessed you knew in the end because you tensed up. So, you don’t live here anymore?” I surmise.

She shakes her head. “No. God, no. I had hoped to never come back either.”

She’s not alone in that thought. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t have come back. The memories of what happened that night still linger with me. The constant what if’s play on my mind. What if I hadn't been there? What if I hadn't smelled the smoke?

“Okay, so tell me your address. We'll go and you never have to come back.”

I want to ask what caused her to fear her old home, but that’s her story and I’m not entitled to it.

I have no fucking idea why the hell I’m feeling so protective of her. I’ve felt that way since I saw her reading her book on the bench three years ago.

She rattles off her address and I realise that she’s actually close to my own home. It’s late and it shouldn’t take us too long to get there.

She’s silent once again for the ride and I leave her be. She’s still trembling every so often and I don’t want to upset her any more than she already is.

My phone rings and I hit the answer button on the Bluetooth. “Yeah?” I answer.

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