Page 5 of Tainted Sinners

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything. There are... reasons, Liam, that I’m leaving my dad in the ground,” I answer quietly, and he grunts. He rubs the left side of his face roughly, a big, red, fist-sized bruise beginning to swell under his skin. I reach to grab his chin, wincing when he does. “I’ll get you some ice.”

“Your dad,” Liam says after I stand up and walk to the freezer. I pause to look back at him over my shoulder. His expression is grave; for all his faults, Liam’s not stupid. He’s lazy, a bad tenant, and gross, but he’s not stupid. “He was a lawyer, right? Maybe, your dad covered something up, and now that he’s dead, whoever he fucked feels like they can come after you.”

“I don’t know, Liam,” I answer, my mouth drying. It’s a lie; I know exactly what this is about. But I can’t tell him. He’d just make things worse. I open the freezer, the gust of frigid air calming my frazzled nerves as I pull out the ice box. “I really... I don’t know.”

“We— we need to call the cops,” Liam says while I grab a few paper towels. My heart stutters, my breath catching in my throat at the notion. “We need to call the cops and report this.”

“Yeah,” My hands are stiff as I pack some ice into a sandwich baggie and wrap it in paper towels. Tears sting my eyes. I can never touch my phone again. No, I can’t. “Where’s your phone?”

“Oh,” Liam exclaims, and I turn as he pulls the device out of his pocket. Scowling, he taps the screen with his finger a few times. “The screen is shattered. Oh, but it still works. I— ow! My finger!”

Liam grumbles as he sticks his finger into his mouth. I hand him the ice pack, and he carefully navigates his shattered phone screen. When it starts ringing, it obviously still works, but the screen is dark, with only a few streaks indicating that it is turned on. “It’s a good thing you’re on that constantly,” I remark as I sit down next to him.

As I heard a voice on the other side of the of the line picking up, Liam starts squawking frantically. “Hello! 911? Yeah, some guys just broke into the house!” I close my eyes, pulling my knees up to support my arms. I take as deep a breath as I can while ignoring his panic stricken voice.If Liam continues to panic, it will make me panic, and I might slip and reveal some of the things that happened earlier. He can’t know.

Which makes me think I need him the fuck out of my house as soon as possible.This might be a good opportunity to do that.Actually, this could be the push he needs to stop acting like the jerk he is. If he thinks those guys will return and that this was a warning with more to come, he'll flee like a little bitch.

But I don’t have that luxury. I can’t run away. If Jack Murphy knows so much about me, this is very planned.

“Heather?” Liam calls, and I open my eyes and look over at him. He’s off the phone now, and he stands up with a grunt before holding his hand out for me. I take it. “You wanna break out the good beer?”

“Beer?” I scoff, shaking my head. “Hell, I’m gonna drink the whole bottle of wine I bought when I graduated college.” Indecision wars in my chest as I look over at him. Should I give him the good stuff? The stuff I have to hide from him? My mouth dries before I speak again. “You can have all the beer as long as you stay in your room, so you’re not puking all over my house. And you can even take the TV in the den upstairs. It’ll connect to your phone.”

“But the living room tv is bigger,” Liam starts but trails off sheepishly when I snarl at him. He raises his free hand, gulping loudly and sniffling through his broken nose. “Okay— okay, den TV and stay in my room.”

“And you better fucking stay there, Liam,” I snap. “I mean it. Or else!”

“I know you do,” He responds softly, shockingly so. I almost feel bad, but Liam puking on the walls is something that will drive me insane after what happened tonight. He wipes his nose with his arm, a red streak running up his forearm. I fight a shiver of disgust. “I don’t really wanna be in the living room either. But, for now, let’s wait for the cops before we break out the booze.”

“Yeah.” I agree shakily, and Liam and I make our way to the stairs. The silence weighs heavily on my shoulders like a thick fog. Liam does not enter the living room, instead going through the den and announcing that he is taking the television. I don’t care. That's something I'm willing to give up for a night free of worry from him.

Snatching my phone, I turn it off and stuff it into my purse, concealing it beneath napkins, pens, and a small makeup palette. I lay back and stretch my legs, throwing my arms over the back of the sofa. I stare at the ceiling, my mind wandering away from this room and towards the past.

My dad was a lawyer; we had a relationship when I lived with him four years ago. My mother left him because of his workaholic tendencies... or so she claimed. The real reason, however, was that he was already married and had a toddler when I was born. My throat throbs as I tighten my jaw, and the sting in my eyes worsens.

That bastard. That fucking bastard. He didn't approach me until my mom died; he didn't want to be my dad but also didn't want me suing him for 18 years of back child support, college costs, and everything else he'd managed to avoid. I curl my hands into tight fists in my lap, and my nails dig into my palms.

“He fucked up Frankie before he was even born, and now he’s haunting me from beyond his cheap damned grave,” I grumble. “Still dodging the results of his bad behavior like a coward.”

“Uh-oh, you're talking to yourself, and you haven't even started drinking," Liam's voice cuts me off, and I look over as he slumps onto the far end of the sofa. He sighs, flipping the ice pack over and placing it on his nose. “You trying to think of why those guys are after you? They really didn’t tell you anything? I mean, why were they here, waiting for you then?”

“He said he was an associate of my father’s and asked if I knew about him,” I reveal cautiously, pinching the bridge of my nose and closing my eyes again. Trying to think up a lie, I inhale deeply and hold my breath. “He was threatening me, and I— I didn’t know what he was even talking about, but he might want to kill me. I don’t think that this guy was playing, Liam. He said he’d be back very soon.”

My admission has left Liam speechless, and I am hoping my exaggerations are enough to push him over the edge. I want him gone. I want my house back without having to go through the legal system. I don't want to dread coming home anymore.

However, that last one may be difficult.

CHAPTERFOUR

Jack

I stare blankly at the window, blacked out by a curtain on the other side. A deep, painful ache rips through my chest with every strained beat of my heart. The ringing in my ears hasn’t died down, even now, several hours after the call.

The call... informing me of my sister’s death. My sister’s murder. And that I needed to identify her body.

“Are you ready, Mr. Murphy?” the woman working there inquired.

I nod curtly, not taking my eyes off my reflection. My pale, ghostly reflection — the face of a man who’d lost something he could never get back. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her push a button on the wall, and I stiffen. Goosebumps pimple my entire body, and my gut seizes as the curtain swings to the side.

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