TRISTAN: The Ruins of Emblem #1

by Brent, Cora

  Curtis wasn’t interested in explanations though. Apparently he only wanted to stalk me online and then draw his own conclusions. “You got lucky this time. But you’re not a kid anymore. It’s time to straighten yourself out.”

  Fuck this.

  I laughed like a maniac for a minute before responding. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, Curtis? You wear your original gang identification in the ink you tattooed to your fucking skin. You can pretend up there in the valley all you want. But I know exactly where you came from and what kind of guy you were.”

  “And I changed,” he shot back. “Believe me, I’m not proud of who I was and every day I try to make up for that. But you? Tristan, do you think I don’t know that you’re up to all kinds of shit when you’re not driving around a tow truck or screwing around? I thought maybe when your gang of idiots scattered you’d realize you were on the road to nowhere but that didn’t happen. This is looking like a permanent way of life for you, drifting between scams and getting tossed into lockup once in a while.”

  “Then you should be all kinds of thrilled that I’m hanging around Cadence. Maybe, just maybe, she’ll be the one to pull me up, to reform my scandalous ways. Wouldn’t that be exciting?” I was mocking him, trying to slap him in the face with his own condescension.

  His reply was icy, devastating.

  “Not if you drag her down instead.”

  If he’d cursed me out instead the effect would have been less painful. He knew it too, tried to backpedal right away.

  “Tristan, that was fucked up. I didn’t mean-“

  My words cut through his. “Yes you did.”

  He sighed. “How about I drive down there tonight and we can sort things out in person?”

  “No thanks. I think I’ve had enough lectures for now.” I hardened my voice. “Don’t come here, Curtis. It’s a bad idea.”

  “Damn you. We’re not just going to end the discussion like this.”

  “It’s not a discussion. It’s a fucking sermon. Anyway I’ve got things to do so you go ahead and get back to watering your fucking lawn or whatever you do for fun, you self righteous asshole.”

  I threw the phone on the dashboard. He tried to call back but I didn’t pick up. I didn’t trust either one of us not to say something worse and our relationship was tenuous enough as it was. I didn’t want to lose my brother. And if this fight escalated any more then I might.

  Adelson’s wife Martha called to say she’d just gotten a call about a disabled vehicle on the US 60. The accident had sent the owner to the hospital. I was glad for the call because then I didn’t need to dwell on the argument with Curtis and how I hadn’t felt this shitty since I walked out on him years ago. There were things between us that still needed to be dealt with but after everything we’d just said a cooling off period was in order.

  The wrecked Toyota needed to be taken all the way to Tempe and coincidence was thick in the air because not only did I find myself less than two miles from Curtis’s work place but the car was destined for one of the Brothers Gentry Garage locations sprinkled around the east valley. Cadence’s cousin, Derek Gentry, was the one I dealt with and he recognized me so he was friendly. This wasn’t the first time I’d delivered a broken down car to one of the Gentry’s garages but I’d never run into Derek here before. He made no mention of Cadence so neither did I because no guy would cheer to hear the words, ‘Guess what? I’m fucking your cousin!’

  Instead we talked about our kid brothers because they were good friends and I was grateful to have a safe topic to discuss. Even if Curtis and I were temporarily on the outs, I was still on decent terms with Brecken.

  After shooting the shit with Derek for a few minutes I had to be on my way and he raised a hand in farewell as I took off. Of all Cadence’s interconnected labyrinth of family members, Derek was the only one I’d met so far who I wouldn’t mind hanging around with.

  Rush hour traffic was a bitch and I crawled through the maze of vehicles commuting home to their stucco tract home origins. Eventually the traffic thinned out and I was grateful when I reached the rather empty highway that led straight to Emblem. I’d never regretted going back to Emblem. No matter what the Phoenix suburbs had to offer the place just never felt like home to me. Emblem was home, despite its ugliness and its struggles and the mammoth prison dominating the skyline to the west. Emblem was where I belonged, where my girl awaited me in a bar on Main Street.

  I was quick about dropping the truck off, making sure Adelson didn’t need me for anything else, and then hopping into my pickup for the quick drive to the Dirty Cactus.

  She was seated at a table and facing the door. We exchanged goofy grins when our eyes met. The way this girl looked at me, like I was her knight in shining armor. No one had ever looked at me like that before.

  “Not if you drag her down instead.”

  Never.

  I wouldn’t allow her to be dragged down.

  I’d give her up before I’d let that happen.

  She met me halfway and the two pot-bellied dickheads seated at the bar started hooting when I took her in my arms and kissed her with abandon, not holding back anything, aware that I was the envy of every man in sight, conscious of my luck that she’d decided to be all mine.

  “Hi,” she said, smiling up at me when we broke for air.

  I locked my hands behind her back. “Hi.”

  The guys at the bar were still making comments but they didn’t mean any harm. I knew them, a pair of middle-aged prison guards, brothers. Their mother lived on the same street where I’d grown up and the fatter one used to come over and help my mom out with yard work after my father’s death.

  “You having your regular beer, Tristan?” Leah called.

  “Sure,” I said and pulled Cadence over to the corner table where there wasn’t an audience watching. She plunked down right in my lap and I liked how she did that with confidence, knowing that I wanted her there. When she slid an arm around my shoulder and faced me though her face was serious.

  “Cassie told me you and Curtis argued.”

  “Not really.”

  “She said he was upset.”

  “It’ll blow over.” I kissed her neck. “Don’t worry about it.”

  She was skeptical. “Was it about me?”

  “No.” I slid my hand up her leg. “It was about me.”

  I could tell she had a few more questions but she dropped the subject for now and gave me a wistful grin.

  “I wish this wasn’t a school night.”

  My hand snuck under her skirt. “Pretend it’s not.”

  Suddenly she wrinkled her nose. “By the way I might have committed you to be my date for a dinner party with a bunch of teachers on Saturday night.”

  A dinner party with a squad of my former teachers sounded as much fun as receiving a prostate exam. “What time?”

  “She said dinner is at seven but we can come over anytime after six.”

  “I think I can fit that in.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. Can’t risk you going to ask some other guy to be your date.”

  She poked me in the chest. “As if you’re worried. You know you’re the only one.”

  “The only one what?”

  She was blushing and she didn’t often blush. “The only one I want,” she muttered.

  This day had improved a thousand fold since my fight with Curtis. He didn’t know what he was talking about, that’s all.

  Cadence and I knew exactly who we were and what we wanted.

  Each other.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cadence

  “Talk about a trip down memory lane,” Brecken noted after we found some empty space in the bleachers.

  Tristan sat in the middle so I leaned over to address Brecken. “Did you used to come to Tristan’s games?”

  Breck peered into the harsh lights of the football field. “Every one of them.”

  “I remember,” Tristan said. “You’
d stand on your seat the entire time and scream louder than anyone else.”

  Breck snorted. “Feels like ages ago.”

  “That’s because it was ages ago,” Tristan said, his attention now focused on the players warming up on the field. I saw Breck shoot his brother a funny look.

  I’d been a little surprised when the youngest Mulligan brother texted me mid week and asked if he could visit on Friday. Breck was a good friend, an honorary family member, so there was nothing weird about him asking to come to town and hang out, especially since he’d been born in Emblem. The odd part was that he’d contacted me first instead of Tristan.

  Tristan and I already had plans to attend the Emblem High game and bringing Brecken along was a no brainer. I tried to pry Leah away from the bar for just one evening so she could join us but she declined. We drove to Grande for dinner and then doubled back to Emblem in time for kickoff. Tristan had invited him to spend the night but Breck declined, saying he needed to be at work early tomorrow.

  Breck showed no surprise or confusion over the fact that Tristan and I were together. Dinner was pleasant and fun although a few times Brecken sharply changed the subject when I asked him certain questions. Tristan might not have noticed, or at least he didn’t comment. But I wanted to have a few words alone with Brecken.

  When Tristan excused himself to find a restroom at halftime I got my chance, sliding over. My hip bumped into Breck’s and he gave me a wry grin.

  “You guys seem happy together,” he said.

  “So far, so good.”

  He nodded. “I’m glad.”

  “So what’s new with you?”

  “Not much. School and the job at the pizzeria take up most of my time. I’ve been on the lookout for any roommate openings because I should really move out of Curtis and Cassie’s place before Baby Mulligan arrives.”

  “You seeing anyone? I noticed you kind of cut me off at dinner when I asked.”

  A small smile crept over his face but then an anxious look replaced it as he scanned the nearby seats. “Yeah, sort of. Let’s keep that between us though, okay?”

  “Breck?” I prodded gently. “Does Tristan not know that you’re gay?”

  He frowned. “I couldn’t tell you what Tristan does or doesn’t know. It’s not like he and I ever talk about anything that matters.”

  “You never told him?”

  He was tense, looking over my shoulder to see if his brother was anywhere in sight. “No. Have you?”

  “The subject has never come up. But I had no idea it was a secret.”

  “It isn’t. It’s just…” He raked a hand through his hair and tried to explain. “I never shied away from being open with Curtis. Or my friends. Or you and your family. But Tristan is kind of an unknown quantity. I’m not sure what he’d say.”

  “He would probably tell you that he wants you to be happy.”

  “Are you sure?” Brecken leaned forward, jogging his leg nervously before turning his head and fixing me with a frank stare. “Because at this point you probably know him far better than I do, Cadence.”

  I couldn’t imagine that Tristan would be fazed to hear his brother was gay but that wasn’t my call to make, not my information to share.

  “You should talk to him,” I said, hooking my arm through the arm of my young friend and giving it a squeeze. “I mean really talk to him.”

  “Who should talk?” Tristan’s voice startled us. He’d come from the opposite direction and plunked down on my other side so now I was between the two Mulligan brothers.

  Breck shot me a pleading look and I gave him a short nod. This wasn’t the time and I would never force the issue. Breck cleared his throat and craned his neck to address Tristan as he took a seat on my other side. “You and Curtis should talk. Tris, he feels bad. Really bad.”

  Tristan hadn’t been willing to say exactly what words had transpired between him and Curtis. But I knew they hadn’t spoken since their argument. And I knew Tristan was bothered by the friction every bit as much as Curtis was.

  “I’ll call him,” Tristan said but there wasn’t much conviction in his voice and he stared out at the field when he said it.

  A key offensive play had just been made and I saw Nesto Rivera bump chests with Landon Gentry. Isaiah had come out of the game in the first quarter, after a tackle left him rolling around on the grass in pain. This week I’d followed up with Jessie Harper, the health aide, asking if he’d stopped by her office at all and she said he hadn’t. And yesterday I’d left a voicemail for Isaiah’s mother, asking her to please call me back. I hadn’t received a response.

  “When?” Brecken pressed.

  Tristan glanced at his brother. “Soon.”

  Breck nodded with satisfaction. “Good.”

  Beyond the stadium lights three helicopters circled in the dark sky. A prison break this evening was big news at this very moment law enforcement was scouring the desert surrounding Emblem in search of the escapees. I wondered aloud if the roads out of Emblem would be blocked off tonight but Tristan shook his head.

  “Nah, they’ve got a checkpoint at Highway Eighty Nine but it’s open.”

  I nudged Brecken. “It sounds dangerous out there. Maybe you should reconsider staying in town for the night.”

  “You should,” urged Tristan. “I’ll make you an omelet for breakfast. Cadence, tell him I make good omelets.”

  “He overcooks them,” I confided to Brecken. “But if you douse anything with enough salt and pepper it’s edible.”

  Tristan raised an eyebrow at me. “Don’t think I won’t make you pay for that comment.”

  I batted my eyes. “I’ll be eagerly awaiting my punishment at bedtime.”

  Brecken groaned. “Stop, I beg you. I don’t want to spew chunks all over these bleachers. They are decrepit enough as it is.”

  I pinched him. “You love us.”

  “Hi Ms. Gentry!” called a couple of girls who were making their way down the bleachers. Two of them wore cheerleading uniforms.

  “Hi ladies,” I called back. “Having fun?”

  Lisette, a bright yet underachieving sophomore, flipped her curly ponytail. “We’d all be having more fun if they would manage to score a few points and give us something to cheer for.”

  The score was already twenty one to three in favor of the opposing team.

  “I’m sure they’re trying,” I said, feeling protective of the boys who were out there playing their hearts out in spite of the recent loss of some key players.

  The girls were already moving on and I poked Tristan. “Does it feel weird to be back here?”

  “A little,” he said. “But in some ways it feels like I never left.”

  Someone in the bleachers a few rows back called his name and he turned around.

  “What’s that pretty girl doing hanging all over your ugly ass?” the man demanded to know but he was grinning.

  Tristan didn’t grin back. “Raf. I didn’t know you were back in town.”

  The guy gestured toward the field. “Came to see my kid brother play.”

  “Who’s your brother?” I asked him. The guy stared down at me like he was surprised to discover I could talk. There was a familiar look about him. He definitely reminded me of someone.

  “I’m Cadence Gentry,” I explained. “I teach English here at the high school.”

  “A teacher?” He found this piece of information hilarious, roaring with laughter. “And you’re with Mulligan? That’s funny as fuck. Don’t worry, sweetheart, there’s plenty of us bad boys around to pick up the slack once he’s done with you.”

  Tristan stiffened and narrowed his eyes. The look he gave the man could have melted steel but the dude just laughed again. He had a few friends with him and they’d become interested in the exchange, elbowing each other and snickering.

  Brecken was listening too. “Tristan?” he said and it sounded like an entreaty, the unspoken words begging Please don’t do anything.

  I put my hand on Trist
an’s arm and felt the tension in his muscles melt a little.

  “Watch the game, Rivera,” Tristan grumbled and turned back to the field in time to see Nesto make a key block as the quarterback completed an impressive pass.

  Now the dots were connected. The man behind us was Rafael Rivera, Nesto’s older brother, the one who’d allowed his own father to get carted off to prison and his family to fall into financial ruin rather than take responsibility for his actions. They’d been friends once, Tristan and Rafael. I didn’t need anyone to explain to me that they weren’t friends any longer.

  Unfortunately the team lost by a score of twenty eight to ten and I grimaced when I thought about what clashes might be erupting in my classroom on Monday morning when the players got hassled for losing another game. I saw Rod Ward throw his clipboard on the ground and stand there shaking his head as the dejected boys filed past. The coach’s mouth moved and I bristled at the thought of the verbal lashing the players were taking.

  Tristan pulled me to my feet. “Let’s get the hell out of here before the stampede begins.”

  We drove back to Tristan’s place and I made one last plea to Brecken to stay overnight.

  Tristan decided to join the appeal. “I’ll even give you earplugs so you don’t have to hear the walls shaking.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against his body. “But let me warn you that she’s pretty fucking noisy when she’s shouting my name. Earplugs might not be enough.”

  “Tristan,” I complained.

  “See? It sounds like that only ten times louder and with a shitload of moaning.”

  I gaped at him. “Is there nothing you won’t say?”

  He smirked. “Nothing.”

  Breck chuckled and pressed the button on his keys to unlock his car door. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

  “Glad you came down tonight,” I said as we waved goodbye.

  Tristan waited until his brother had driven down the street before he grabbed my ass.

  “Now it’s my turn to come somewhere, schoolteacher,” he said.

  “And what makes you think you’ll be getting lucky?” I challenged.