She sighed, relaxing from head to toe, and flopped happily across my lap. “Oh God, that relief feels good.”
“It sure does,” I agreed. I traced her body with my hand, reveling in her curves from neck to hip. She sighed deeply, pressing against me as she did so. She turned to me with a flirtatious smile, but the smile quickly faded into something more thoughtful.
“Where are you going to live now?” she asked, sitting up.
I wanted her back in my lap, but I knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t going to be in any mood for petting until she had her questions answered. Inherited that from her dad, I guess.
“I’ll be living with my mom,” I told her. “At least for a few months, until I figure out what I’m doing after high school. She saw all the cops at Eddie’s and sort of freaked out. She called me and I went over there. We had a long talk about a lot of shit, and she’s decided that she can be a mother for a little while until I find my feet.”
Arlena frowned. “That doesn’t sound like much.”
I chuckled. “Trust me, it’s a huge step for her. She told me a lot of things I didn’t know before—she’s got some issues. Some pretty hard-core diagnoses.” I wanted to tell Arlena everything, but it didn’t feel right. Now that I knew just how much my mom had struggled to be perceived as normal, I didn’t want to take that from her. Dissociative disorders and bipolar disorders are hard enough to manage without the whole world judging you.
“You’re so understanding,” Arlena said softly.
“You’re worried,” I said, reading her face.
She gazed at me, her eyes deep and warm. “I am,” she admitted. “You’ve already been bounced around so much this year. I’m afraid that your mom might make you leave, and then you’ll have to figure it out all over again.”
I squeezed her hand. “Honestly, this is an easy year for me. Mom lost custody of us the summer between fifth and sixth grade. I was an angry little shit and my brother was already involved with a lot of bad people, so we kept getting bounced. I went to four different schools and lived with seven different families that year. That was when Damon decided that he was getting us our own place as soon as he could.”
She traced her fingers over my hand in intricate little patterns. “When did that happen?” She asked.
“When he was sixteen,” I said.
She snapped her head up, eyes wide with shock. “What? How?”
I chuckled and held her close. My sweet, pure Arlena. “He earned enough money to make the landlord look the other way. A few bribes, a few CPS workers convinced that we were still living with mom, and we were in the clear. They closed her case, we made sure we always had perfect attendance so nobody would have to go looking for us, and Damon kept the money coming in.”
“Oh, Blayze,” she sighed. “I can’t imagine going through high school without my mom. I’m so sorry.”
I shook my head. “It was better. Honestly, it was. She needed space to get her head right, and Damon and I were looking more and more like our dad all the time. She was always swinging back and forth between crying and threatening us. She couldn’t snap out of it.”
Arlena was quiet for a minute. “You think it’ll be better now?”
“Yes,” I said. “She’s done a lot of work on herself these last three years. She really has. She’s medicated and going to therapy, she’s got really good friends, she’s got a routine that works for her. I’m going to try very hard to leave as light a footprint as I can on her life, and work on getting myself together as quickly as I can. It’s going to be fine.”
“Okay,” she breathed, and lay across my lap once more. I traced her collarbone and gently brushed over her breasts and down her belly, then back up again. Her breath caught in her throat.
“Hey,” she said huskily. “Do you want to go for a drive?”
I scooped her up and kissed her hard. “Yes,” I said against her mouth. “Yes, I do.”
The anxiety which had plagued her those first few times never reared its head. As we perched over the city, surrounded by the music pouring out of the radio and each other’s warmth, she knew exactly what she wanted and she went for it. I was happy to be helpless to her, happier still when she urged me to meet that energy.
Her relief and confidence was intoxicating. Emboldened by her wicked grins and sharp nips against my skin, I rolled her from position to position, giving her a taste of the world available to her. She took control, teasing me, playing with me until I growled in her throat and took her down with me, driving myself into her until her legs shook.
I don’t know how long we celebrated, how many times we drove each other to the edge of madness, how many times we collapsed, thinking we were spent, only to spark another firestorm with the briefest of attentions. A gentle kiss, a soft touch, a deep look was all it took for me to be ready to go again—and I’m not sure she ever stopped being ready for more.
Finally, when we were all out of condoms and too spent to do more than lean against each other and bask in the closeness, we wrapped a blanket around our naked bodies and watched the sun rise over the city. For the first time in a long time, the awakening sounds of the city whispered of hope.
35
It had been a month since Eddie had gone to jail, and things had settled down a lot. Arlena was still working through some anxiety, but she was having more good days than bad now. Some of that was because I was never more than a phone call away, but most of it was her own doing. She was growing into herself and her name, and it was beautiful to watch.
I’d slowly been spending more time at her place when her parents were home. Tristan and I still got into debates and every once in a while I could perceive a shift in the way Tristan approached a topic, like he was meeting me in my arena. One night though, when I’d been invited over for dinner, Tristan was in a less-than-talkative mood.
It seemed to make Arlena and her mom nervous. They chatted circles around him, talking about a little bit of everything, shooting the occasional glance at his frowning, thoughtful face. It made me restless. I never have liked undercurrents.
“Rough day, Mr. Drake?”
I brought silence crashing down on the table with that question. I kept eating, watching him expectantly. He raised his head slowly, turning that furrowed brow and sharp eyes in my direction.
“A challenging day,” he said, his words sharp and precise. “You’ve dropped quite the tangle in my lap.”
I raised my eyebrows innocently. “Me?”
His mouth quirked. It could have been a grin if it tried a little harder. “So it seems that word has made it to the jails and prisons that our mutual acquaintance was a flytrap for the desperate and destitute. It would appear that I have inadvertently enabled, and even encouraged this behavior. I may be a disciple of the law, but I do not much appreciate having my discipline used as a weapon against those who do not deserve it—nor do I appreciate being an unwitting pawn in a criminal takeover.”
I nodded slowly. “Sounds rough.”
His mouth quirked again and he snorted softly through his nose. “I always do what I believe is right, Blayze. Do you?”
I thought it over, chewing a bite to occupy my mouth. “Yes,” I said finally. “What I believe is right. That doesn’t always align with the law, though.”
He snorted again. “There was once a time I would dismiss that statement as nonsense. I’ve come to realize that the world is not as black and white as I would have it be. In doing the best job I was capable of doing, I have allowed a great deal of harm to spread. Do you believe that good intentions excuse poor outcomes?”
I grinned slightly. “That depends on both the intentions and the outcomes.”
He nodded. “A wise answer. This acquaintance holds a lot of power, but not as much as he thinks he does. A few convicted dealers are too afraid to testify against him, no matter how lenient a deal we offer them; a great many more are virtually salivating for the opportunity to send him down the river.”
&n
bsp; He sighed, tented his fingers, and frowned. “The problem is, Blayze, that the ones most eager to testify also happen to be the ones who know the least about him. Those who know him well, know him well enough to be afraid. We need his connections. His primary connections. We currently have only one person in custody who is not afraid of him and potentially knows enough to nail his coffin closed, so to speak.”
“Who is that?” I asked. I didn’t need to. I already knew.
“Damon Arrow,” he said. “Your brother. He has the longest known history with the accused. He probably knows more than we would be able to learn forensically if we were given a lifetime to investigate. However, he refuses to testify. Do you know why?”
“That’s easy,” I said with a shrug. “He’s fiercely loyal. He and Eddie have been friends since they were kids. His dad got Damon started, way back in the day. They’re practically brothers.”
“Practically,” Tristan agreed. “But only practically. You’re right, Damon is fiercely loyal. But not to the accused. He told me—very bluntly, I appreciated his candor—that Eddie was your best friend. He told me that you’ve experienced enough loss in your young life, and he refuses to be responsible for more.”
I didn’t know it was possible for my heart to feel heavy and light all at once until that moment. It made my throat tighten up and my eyes burn. Arlena squeezed my hand under the table and I squeezed back. I took a deep breath in through my nose, popping the band of tension around my chest, and cleared my throat.
“So, um,” I said, my voice raspy. “Visiting hours are-?”
Tristan finally smiled.
36
I didn’t like jails. They made me feel tired, like I was walking uphill with a cement ball chained to my ankle the whole time I was inside of them. That was one reason I’d always been very careful not to earn myself a room in one—and it was also the reason why it had taken me so long to come see Damon in person. We’d talked on the phone once a week at least, but it wasn’t the same.
I let guilt wriggle through me all the way through the metal detectors and sign-in sheets, but pushed it away before I sat down in the plastic seat and picked up the phone. Damon looked rough. He was pale with dark smudges under his eyes, and he was at least twenty pounds thinner than he’d been the last time I saw him. There was a fresh cut on one cheek and a pink scar on the back of one wrist.
“You look like shit,” I said when he picked up on the other side.
He grinned. “You are what you eat.”
“Gross. I’ll buy you a plate at Martina’s as soon as you’re done screwing around in here.”
He snorted. “You think that shitty Mexican place is still gonna be around in five years? You’re a ray of optimism.”
I shook my head. “Maybe not. Damn. If only there was a way we could get you out sooner.”
He wriggled uncomfortably. Damon never was very good at lying to me. Anybody else, sure. But not me. He didn’t say anything for a while, so I decided to cut him some slack.
“What deal did they offer you, Damon?” I asked.
Relief, then annoyance, washed over his expression. “You jackass. Do you always have to fuck with me?”
“Little brother prerogative,” I said with a grin. “So?”
He sighed. “I’m not taking it,” he said.
“Stupidest thing you’ve said all year. What’s the deal?”
He tightened his jaw, looked over his shoulder and glared at me. “Deal is I set Eddie up for twenty to life and I go home as soon as he’s sentenced. I could walk out of court a free man. They threw ‘expunged record’ around, too—seems they have some idea that the drugs I had on me belonged to some girl.” He shot a furtive look at the guard posted behind him who was obviously listening in.
I grinned. Damon must have had a thing for Sam for him to be dodging her name like that. “Sounds like a hell of a deal. Take it.”
Damon shook his head. “Nope. Can’t do it.”
“Why, you chicken?”
He got angry for a second, then he just looked tired. It struck me then just how long he’d been putting his own life on the line for me. How long he’d been shielding me from the worst of the world, while keeping his hand in it to make sure I always had what I needed. No teenager should have to parent like that.
“If I told them everything I knew about him, he’d be gone. Gone, gone, along with most of his distributors. You’d never see him again. Shit, you’d never see a lot of your friends again.”
I snorted and told him the same damn thing I told Arlena. “Friends like him are one brilliant idea away from getting you killed,” I said. I was quiet for a moment, then I sighed. “Man, Eddie wasn’t trying to set you up. He was setting up Sam.”
Damon’s eyes flashed and he ground his teeth. “That piece of—okay, still. You need him.”
I shook my head. “Let me tell you a story about the most amazing girl in the world. And I know you’re not into believing this whole bullshit, but…Arlena, she’s something special and -”
When I was finished cluing Damon in on everything that had gone down since he’d been arrested, his knuckles where white and his eyes were dark. I’d never seen him look murderous before. It was chilling—but also pretty cool.
“Which is why you need to take that deal. You know way more about his business than I do, or I’d tell them everything myself. Actually no, I’d still ask you to do it, because damn it Damon, I miss you. Do you know I’ve been living with mom for an entire month?”
He chuckled, but his face was still dark. “I’ll take the deal,” he said. “But it might take six months or more for it to go to trial. They’re going to have a whole lot of shit to investigate. Think you can put up with her that long?”
I made a show of thinking it over, then grinned. “Yeah. She’s not so bad now that she’s medicated. As long as I don’t grow a Fu Manchu, she won’t freak out about me looking like him anymore.”
Damon stroked the facial hair he’d let grow out since he’d been locked up. “Thanks for the tip,” he said with a cockeyed grin. “I’ll be sure to shave before they let me out. Hey—you been keeping up on your grades with all this? You gonna graduate?”
“Oh hell yes,” I said. “I’ll be throwing my hat around with the rest of them. Eddie’s dumb ass had me down to a 3.6 there for a minute, but I got it back up.”
He grinned. “That’s how you do, Blayze. Saving the princess from the dragon and acing trig all at once. You better get a scholarship. Your brain’s too big for the ghetto.”
“I will,” I told him. “And when I do, we’re both getting out of here.”
His expression wavered uncertainly. I could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe he would ever be able to leave. The town, maybe. But not the life. It was the only thing he knew. I didn’t push the issue. I knew I couldn’t argue him into believing in himself—but I could prove to him that he could believe in me. I trusted that would be good enough.
So, with Eddie’s fate sealed and Damon’s freedom on the horizon, I left the concrete weight smashed to bits on the jail floor and floated right out of there.
37
I closed my eyes and breathed the moment in. The early summer breeze played with my hair as the sun beat down on my shoulders, heating the cheap shiny robe I wore over a cute little dress. The valedictorian’s speech droned on, almost too echoey to hear. Children played at the playground on the other side of the little creek, their laughter accentuating the celebration in the air.
I opened my eyes and looked down the row, smiling as I caught Blayze’s eye. He beamed back at me. Behind us, the seniors who wouldn’t be graduating that year jostled each other and threw balls of paper at their friends’ square caps. I scanned the crowd of friends and family, wondering which of the faces in the sea of folding chairs belonged to Blayze’s mother. My mom saw me looking and waved frantically, then dabbed at her eyes. Jeez, mom, we haven’t even started the slide show yet!
“I can’t believe it
’s over,” the girl beside me said mournfully.
I glanced over to see who she was talking to, and she met my eyes. I didn’t recognize her, which automatically put her in good standing to my mind.
“I can,” I said with a little laugh. “It felt like this year lasted a whole decade.”
She sighed. “I guess. I wish it lasted just a little longer, though. I was really good in theater. What am I gonna do now? Recite Shakespeare through the drive-thru window?”
Usually I would have made a sympathetic noise and changed the subject, but I was feeling giddy and bold. “No,” I said firmly. “You’re going to make an audition tape and send it to every theater within a hundred miles, then you’re going to get together with the other theater kids and make movies to post online.”
She blinked, startled, then brightened up. “Ms. James loves us! I bet she’ll let us use the AV stuff if we don’t cause trouble.”
“Of course she will,” I said, far too confidently for someone who had never even met Ms. James. “Life doesn’t end at graduation. It’s just beginning.”
She grinned and chatted happily to me about the projects she had in the works. I listened enthusiastically. They actually sounded pretty good. I shushed her when they started calling people’s names, though. I didn’t want to miss my chance to cheer for Blayze. When he was called, my voice was all but drowned out by the hooting and cheering from the rest of the class. For as much punishment as his reputation had taken, he was still well-loved.
My eyes wandered to the audience again as I tried to pick his mother out of the crowd. Certainly she would be cheering, right? But I only saw my parents on their feet, cheering and whistling as if he was their own kid. Oh, well. Maybe she was sitting in a section I couldn’t see.
“Everybody loves Blayze,” the girl beside me said with a grin. “Even when they hate him.”
“It’s all part of his charm,” I agreed.
Manic: A Dark Bully Romance Page 23