The Door's Open ~ Part III

            His dad had rented a hotel for the long weekend. Mason had been there; sat and watched TV, chatted and ordered take-out. He stalked to that same door now, trying to keep his feelings in check. God… if You can answer this one request, don’t let it have been for nothing.

            This past month hadn’t been anything spectacular. Danny had dropped by Mason’s work, they’d caught a movie, taken turns getting the check for dinner or the late-night drink. But it had been something. It showed that there was something to Mason and who he was. Mason tensed his fist before knocking on Danny’s door. It opened and Mason was struck again by the deep-set eyes and pointed chin he shared with his father. They lifted in a casual smile. “Mason! What’re you-“

            “Louis Oscar.” Mason cut him off. He waited any longer and the suspense would cut his own air off. “Tell me who he is and I’ll believe you.”

            Danny’s face bleached. “How do you know that name?”

            “My sister told me.” Mason said. “But it’s a coincidence, right? Some average Joe stuck with a painfully whacked name.”

            “Mason,” Danny widened the door, nodding him in. “Come in so we can talk.”

            “You just need to answer.” Mason’s stomach was twisting already. 
            Danny wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Who do you think Louis Oscar is?”

            “He’s the bottom feeder who dragged a six-year-old into prostitution!” Mason’s voice exploded, making Danny cringe back. But not fast enough to escape Mason gripping his shirt collar. “He’s Shelby’s pimp!!! Why do you have his number?”

            Danny didn’t answer him. Mason busted the door wide with his shoulder. He rammed Danny back into the desk with the other. “You wanted us to talk? TALK!” His hand clenched into the side of Danny’s neck. “I swear, if you do stuff to kids-“

            Danny snapped out of it and grabbed Mason’s wrist, eyes blazing. “Don’t even think that! Louis reached out to me, said that he could help us reconnect.”

            “For what?” Mason demanded.

            “Your address. That’s it.”

            “That didn’t sound a little off to you?” Mason’s breath came in short huffs. “What else?”

            Danny considered him; then blew out his breath. “Fifty thousand.”

            So that was it. He hadn’t been anything until it’d been worth something to the old man. Mason shoved him back, letting him hit the floor. “You must’ve really needed it.”

            He bolted out of the room and down the stairs to the parking lot. Mason didn’t give himself time to consider the emotions breaking his chest. He straddled his bike, slammed his helmet down, and popped the clutch. He roared out of the lot and down the street, into the harsh shadows of the sunset.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

            Hunter just wanted to wake up- or fall asleep. Anything to make this stop. He’d been getting ready for bed, fuming over how Mason had stormed out, when rough hands grabbed and dragged him to the living room. A twin goon had done the same with Brittany, using his gun to herd her and Claire in. Dad was sitting in his chair, blood on his cheek. Mom was on the floor, arms wrapped around a quivering Shelby.  

            “Dad-“ Hunter started, only to be pushed farther in. He bumped into Brittany, knocking her glasses off and onto the floor.

            “On their knees!” came an order and Hunter looked up to find a tall man with stubble and blond hair in a ponytail. Claire flinched as she was the first one pushed down. She was panting and sweating- panic attack.

            “Stop.” Brittany yanked the goon’s hand off Claire’s shoulder. “She’s-“

            “Shut up!” the guy backhanded her, putting her down with Claire. Hunter lunged, but he was held back by the other guy.

            “No, stop!” Mom cried. Hunter heard her tears and it infuriated him. He’d been right, hadn’t he? Louis Oscar had been the contact in Mr. Burke’s phone. Hunter prepped a kick.

            “Hunter!” Dad barked then and Hunter looked at him. Dad’s face, always so stoic and certain, pleaded with him. “Son, please.”

             “Listen to daddy.” Louis Oscar- the blond- spoke through a thin and crooked smile. Hunter’s eyes lowered to the gun he gripped at his side. But he’s going to use it either way? Why not-

            His knees hit the floor as he was pushed down. They were in a row, him, Brittany, and Claire. An execution line!

            “You steal from me.” Louis Oscar lorded himself over Dad, rattling his wheelchair with a kick. He then leaned his face in close. “I obliterate you. And everything you have.”

            “She’s not yours!” Mom yelled from where she shielded Shelby. Hunter had never heard such anger in her voice. It was more than anger; it was hate. And it caught Oscar’s attention. He narrowed his eyes, stepping over to Mom. Hunter could feel the power that he emitted in his steps. It scared him, like thunderstorms had when he was five. Do something, God! You’re the more powerful one... Act like it already!

            “Anything I want is mine.” Oscar growled at Mom. He lashed out and pulled Shelby away by her hair. Hunter’s legs drove him up, but he was driven back down, face-first. The pressure of a gun at the back of his neck held him there. Hunter could just listen to his pulse elevate, feel his breath sharpen. No! Nonono-

            “No, no, no,” Shelby was whimpering, her arms grappling for Mom. Oscar’s only response was to aim his gun at Dad and fire. Mom screamed. Claire hit her forehead to the floor, hands over her ears. “Praise be t-to-o Go-o-od… hear-rd my-y-y p-prayer…”

            She was reciting the last verse of Psalm 66. She did it to ward off attacks sometimes. Not that it was that simple.

            “Who do I shoot next!” Oscar yelled in Shelby’s petrified face. Her whimper came back, void of fight or hope. She shut her eyes to his rage-filled face. Hunter couldn’t; he’d never seen anything so demonic. What kind of guy paraded into people’s homes, thinking he owned the right to take their lives? He was swearing to kill them, promising to do the same to Gideon and Mason. Hunter’s eyes flickered, took in Claire’s fear, Brittany’s bewildered tears. Were these going to be the last memories of his family? Were they going to be forced to leave Shelby with this animal?

           God… anybody… Help!

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

            Louis Oscar.

Lance Oliver.

Larry Osborne.

They played in a loop with every streetlight that crossed Mason’s helmet. They were the names that Shelby had warned them about her first month with the Rivers. Maybe his real name was in there somewhere, but Mason doubted it. The first sign of Shelby opening up to them, and she’d used it to warn them about her pimp. The guy who had sold her to the savages of the world every night.

“He uses the same initials for all his alias,” Shelby had told them so softly. “For his street name, ‘Law and Order’.” She had raised her face, letting the fear speak through her damaged eyes. “That’s what he is.”

The heck he was. Mason sped through the light on its last flicker of yellow, barely keeping off the curb as he turned onto the Rivers’ street. George had been the one to tell him what Hunter had found out. Maybe they hadn’t told Shelby anything yet, but Mason would. She was certainly fragile, but she deserved to have people level with her. And he’d stay the next few nights. Get the focus off of his own demons for once.

Company? Was Mason’s first thought at the older Mercedes-Benz parked on the curb. It blocked the hand-painted mailbox and was, by now, a part of the twilight shadows. But the man at the gaping truck didn’t… wait a minute!

Mason didn’t think. He just accelerated and in the last stretched second, flung himself at the guy’s broad back. He drove the man head-first into the lawn. The wind left him and Mason rolled, cracking his shoulder hard against the ground. Mason seethed, fogging his visor. But he still saw the guy moving, trying to escape his grip. Mason pulled him back, driving his fist across the man’s jaw. His fingers were cold from the ride and he didn’t register the impact.

Mason pushed himself up, leaving the guy motionless on the grass. He wobbled on the first step, but moved back to the trunk of the car. He ditched his helmet and got the first clear view of Shelby, shaking and curled into a corner of the small cavity. He reached in for her. “Shelby?”

She unfolded and grabbed his forearms, eyes wide and teary. “H-He… he f-f-foun-nd me!”

Mason pulled her in, wishing there was some bubble he could erect. A barrier that’d keep her safe.

“He’ll k-k-kill ‘em.”

Mason jerked his head back, toward the Rivers’ house. Burnt canary siding, black shudders, and barn shaped. George and Pam’s lifeline, all they had to offer the kids that the rest of the world would forget.

Don’t You dare! Mason’s mind shouted, his legs leaving Shelby. “Get to the neighbors! Call the police!”

“Mason-“

“Call!” Mason bolted to the front door. Not them! Don’t You dare, God! You hear me!

The door wasn’t closed and Mason saw the light coming from the living room. He was inside when the gun fired. There was a thud and a scream. Whose scream?

“I wouldn’t worry,” a voice laughed in the echo of the shot. “He can’t feel below the waist, right?”

George! Mason’s mouth dried, disbelief halting him.

“Now that that fun’s outta the way,” the voice was turning. “Who’s first?”

The voice laughed again and he heard a whimper. Brittany! The voice remained cool, held a smile in it. “Open your eyes, ma. I want you to watch-“

Mason flew in from the hall before he could finish. He plowed a pony-tailed man down from where he stood over Brittany. He lifted him up like a feather, all the way into the brick that circled the mantle. An arm lifted, but Mason pinned it back, scrapping for the gun.

“Hey!”

Mason didn’t wait for the third goon to grab him. He half spun, slamming his elbow up the guy’s nose. Mason let him fall, trusting someone to take care of him. This guy- he knew was Louis Oscar- was his!

His shoulder protested, but Mason drew it back anyway. Once, three times, again and again his knuckles pounded into flesh. Mason felt the heat in his fist, Oscar’s blood in the crevices between his fingers. The feel fueled the rest of him, setting his body afire. Everything that had been spinning around inside, it finally had a way to get out. He could release all of it. His mom, his dad, the foster homes… The memories hit him hard this time, harder then ever. So he hit Louis’ mug all the more.

I’ve been waiting for you!  Mason was screaming out from the floor of his rage. And you just-

“Mason!”

His name ripped into his ear and Mason stopped. His head whipped back towards it. Brittany and Claire held each other, while Hunter helped George to a sitting position.

“I said hands behind your head.” Pam ordered the goon with the broken nose. The gun was clenched in her hands, but her eyes were on Mason. She was crying and staring at him, horrified. Mason heard a cough and looked beneath him. The face Louis Oscar used to have rested against the bricks. Blood leaked from the crooked spots on his nose and from the gash above his right eye. From the odd angle, his left cheekbone was likely broken. And as the slime smiled, Mason noticed the loose teeth.

“You can bet I’ll sue you for this.”

Mason grabbed the man’s collar and yanked his mangled mug close. “You’re not talking to these pussies anymore. I’m the loose cannon around here. Remember me the next time you even think-“

Louis’ gun exploded between them, sending a new fire through Mason’s body. His mind flashed to Shelby in the trunk, his siblings on their knees, guns to their heads. He smacked Oscar’s head into the brick one last time before his consciousness went black.

~~ To Be Continued ~~