by Lucy Smoke
Knix and Texas walked in behind me and Texas took a seat while Knix remained standing. "Would you like to tell us what happened tonight?" he asked.
I gritted my teeth and cracked my neck as I looked at him before directing my gaze to Marv. "I met one of the girls that went to Ms. Enders' Etiquette Camp."
All four of them started, confused. That had obviously not been what they expected me to say. Marv sat forward, a frown marring his handsome face.
"What–" he began.
"Wait." Knix held up a hand. All eyes moved to him. "Let's go in order. We will get to that in a moment." He looked at me again. "Were you drinking tonight?"
"I had a few drinks," I admitted.
Knix sighed as though it was difficult for him to stand there and be the disapproving one. "You're underage, Harlow."
"I know it was wrong," I said, "but I'm eighteen. It's not like I'm twelve. I'm old enough that, if I wanted to, I could go into the army and go to war."
"And if you were in the army, they would let you have a beer on base, but Harlow – none of us were there with you tonight. Not only are you underage, but you're a woman. As much as I hate to say this, you need to be more careful."
I bristled. "I was with Erika."
"Yeah? And where is she now?" he replied. I bit my lip and looked away. Knix sighed again. "I know it's not fair, Harlow. I know it's not right. But you are a woman and you are eighteen, not twenty-one. Not only is it against the law, it's not safe, especially for you. You're young and pretty," I blinked at that, "someone could have slipped something into your drinks and taken advantage of you." That reminder rockets through my core. I saw pale, pain-filled eyes and the broken expression on the girl from earlier as her sobs echoed in the quiet, cold dance club bathroom with a total stranger. He was right. I didn't want that to happen to me. But I didn't want it to happen to anyone else either.
"Okay," I said.
"Okay?" Knix frowned. "Okay, what?"
"I knew it was wrong," I said. "I did it anyway. I won't do it again. Or if I do, I'll do it with one of the guys. I know it's not safe."
Knix shook his head. "I'm sorry, Harlow. That's not good enough. You broke the rules?"
"The rules?"
"'Iris members will not enter into dangerous situations without the permission and approval of the team or team lead,'" he quotes. I remember the line from one of the packets Texas had given me when I moved in and had officially started my training.
"I was in public," I stated, "with a friend and you knew I was going."
"I said you could go to a dance club to dance, Harlow. Not to drink."
"So, what?" I snapped, standing. "You're my father now? My parent? I've taken care of one parent and I don't have the other, Knix. I don't need a third."
"Well, you need someone to look after you," he said sternly.
"No, I don't," I said through clenched teeth.
"Hey," Bellamy stood and held his hands out to the both of us. "Harlow is still new," he said, looking to Knix. "She's still learning."
"She was given the packets and the information regarding Iris that she wanted. She asked to be in and now she is," Knix replied.
"Information? You've given me information?" I ask, incredulous. "You haven't given me anything! I'm still in the dark and I technically work for Iris now."
"And you went out tonight and drank with strangers," Knix replied, stepping forward. I didn't back down. Instead, I tilted my head up and met his hard gaze head-on. "You're obviously not ready for more."
"Knix, I agree that Harlow shouldn't have been drinking – especially not without anyone there to look out for her," Marv interjected. "She's admitted her mistake and agreed not to do it again without one of us present. I think you're being too harsh."
I looked back at him, surprised by his willingness to back me up. He wasn't looking at me, though. His gaze was on Knix who heaved a frustrated breath.
"She has admitted to and agreed not to do it again," Texas said quietly.
I looked over at him. I was angry that he had been the one to facilitate this, but he was unusually quiet in the group. He sat in the corner of the couch, with his arms folded across his lean chest and his chin tilted away. The dark strands of his hair fell over one side of his face as if he had rolled out of bed to come get me.
Silence stretched through the room. Knix's body was just as tense as mine. Bellamy looked like he wanted to come between us, but he held back. "One penalty," Knix finally said.
"One penalty what?" I asked.
"A penalty is a punishment from the team," Bellamy explained. "It's when a team member does something that's against the rules or that the team doesn't agree with as a whole. It usually means you've lost a measure of trust."
"How have I lost your trust?" I demanded. "You knew I was going!"
"But we didn't know you would be drinking," he said. "Harlow, we don't like it when any of us go off to drink alone. It's worse with you because you're a woman and you're underage. It's not so much that you were drinking, but that you didn't tell us, and in fact, implied you wouldn't be drinking at all."
"I didn't say that," I defended.
"You didn't have to."
I frowned, but the expression on all of their faces said this wasn't something I could get out of. With a frustrated growl, I gave in. "Fine. What's the penalty?"
"Extra training," Knix replied. "Tomorrow. With Bellamy and Texas."
"That's it?" I asked, shocked.
"You won't be saying that tomorrow," Bellamy said.
I huffed a breath. "Fine, extra training. Tomorrow."
"Now, about the girl," Marv said.
My chest tightened and my eyes stung as I turned away from Knix. "I met a girl tonight that said she went to Ms. Enders’ Etiquette Camp and... she confirmed it," I said. “Our suspicions...we were right.”
"Was she...?"
I didn't blame him for not being able to say it. It was hard enough just to think it. "Yes," I said. "She said she was raped." The room grew dark. The expressions on their faces became deeply horrified and furious.
"And she...has she..." Marv choked on his words as if it was difficult to speak.
"She doesn't know by who," I answered his unasked question. "She said she thought it was a bad dream...before they started sending her pictures."
Realization flashes across his face while the rest of the guys remain eerily quiet. "That's where the money is going," he said. "They're being blackmailed."
"She hasn't told her family or anyone," I replied.
"Knix," Marv stood and reached for me, pulling me even further away from Knix, drawing me towards his side. He held my arm like if he didn't, something would happen, and I'd slip away from him. "Alex?"
"Alex is still on the fence about this," Knix said through gritted teeth.
"Can we call the police?" I asked. When all four of them shook their heads, I couldn't stifle my surprise. "Why the hell not?"
"She hasn't reported it," Knix said. "She's not going to. It's been too long for the police to be able to do anything. For something like this...they really need to have the timing right."
"They can track the phone number that she's receiving messages from, right?"
Knix nodded. "What was the girl's name? Maybe we can get into contact with her family.”
I froze. “She didn’t tell me,” I admitted. “I don’t think she would have even if I had asked.”
“Shit.” Marv growled low in his throat and turned away, pacing across the room. “Does this make four?” he asked. I couldn’t tell if he meant to ask me or if he was asking the room. I don’t think he knew either. “Four women – girls – Knix, please tell Alex that we’re doing something about this?”
I glanced back at Knix. His face had changed. It was strained. “You know I don’t have the authority to make this call,” he said.
“Fuck!” I jumped as Marv grabbed a phone – his phone – from the side table and threw it across the room. It hit the wa
ll, the noise ricocheting loudly through the room. “Knix!”
“I’ll talk to Alex tomorrow,” Knix replied quickly. “Marv, don’t worry. Even if we can’t do anything–”
“I want to come,” Marv insisted.
“That’s fine,” Knix agreed readily. I watched with wide eyes. Marv’s whole frame shook and trembled with tightly contained rage. I understood it. I felt it too.
“I want to go too,” I said.
All eyes turned back to me.
“You’re training tomorrow,” Knix reminded me. “It’s your penalty.”
“I want to go to the camp,” I clarified.
The silence echoed.
“No.” Surprisingly, Bellamy was the first to reply. “No way.” Marv continued to stare at me. The rest of the guys were quiet. “You’re not going,” Bellamy said.
“I’ll talk to Alex tomorrow,” Knix repeated.
Bellamy’s gaze whipped to him. “You can’t be serious.”
“I was already going to go see him,” Knix replied.
“But you’re going to really consider her for this? She’s still new; she hasn’t completed training–”
“We’ll see what Alex says,” Knix interrupted sternly. There was a rumbling of discontent in the room and though I wanted to reaffirm that, whether they liked it or not, I did want to go. I also didn’t want to strike up more of that discontent.
It seemed that I didn’t have to, however, because in the next moments Marv was shaking his head. “No,” he stated firmly, “there is no way in hell she’s going.”
“Marv…” Knix attempted some sort of reassurance, but I could tell he wasn’t quite sure how to take Marv’s attitude.
Marv stared at me, blue eyes tight and angry. “No,” he repeated. Then he quietly turned and left the room. I sucked back a breath and found the anger from earlier crawling back up again.
How dare he? I scowled. “When you’re all done deciding what I can and can’t do,” I said through gritted teeth, “I’ll be in my room.” With that, I turned and left as well.
My hands shook as I passed through the rest of the living room and around the corner. I squeezed the knob of my bedroom door and threw it open, relishing in the crashing sound it made against the wall before I walked in and slammed it closed. I was sure the echoing noise could be heard throughout the living room as well as the rest of the house.
I collapsed on my bed and stared at the ceiling. My room in the guys' house was supposed to be a sanctuary. It was supposed to be my place. It was the one area in the house where if I wanted the guys to leave me alone, they would. Usually, I didn't mind that Marv slept in my room. Or that Bellamy and Texas regularly waltzed in without knocking. It seemed Knix really was the only one that knocked. Maybe he felt like he should?
Right now, though, it felt like my room was a prison. My anger swelled, and the walls closed in on me. I didn't have enough room to pace. I could hear the grinding of my teeth bouncing off the walls. I wanted to rip something to pieces. I wanted to–
"Harlow?" As if sensing my inner turmoil, Texas hesitantly tapped on my door and opened it. I huffed a frustrated breath as he came in. At least it was Texas and not Marv or Bellamy. "Hey," he said. I sat up and stared at the wall. What was I supposed to say? I was mad at him. I was mad at all of them.
Wasn't I?
Well, okay, I wasn't really that mad at Marv. He was just worried about me. He didn't want me going to this camp because he didn't want something bad to happen to me. Neither did Bellamy, so I wasn't really mad at him either. But I was definitely mad at Knix because of this stupid penalty. Though, it was a pretty lenient penalty. He could have taken my phone away since I didn't technically pay for it – they did. I needed to do something about that. He didn't make me do anything stupid like give him my itinerary for every day. So, really, Knix could have been worse. I guessed I wasn't as mad at him as I thought. But Texas told Knix about what happened at the dance club – the drinking anyway. It wasn't any of his business. He was the one that had started the whole ball rolling, telling the others which led to Knix getting mad and Marv and Bellamy getting upset. I was, for sure, mad at him. Except… when Texas sat next to me on the bed, he took a deep breath and reached for my hand.
"I'm sorry about tonight," he said. I leaned my head back and groaned. Damn it, why was it so hard to be mad at any of them?
Finally, I sighed and straightened. "It's fine," I said. "You were just looking out for me." God, I hated being mature about it. For just a moment, I wished I could hold onto my anger, but the moment he touched my hand, I knew I was a goner. Texas wasn't a mean or malicious person. Even if he was a trickster, he was a good person. He meant well.
"I know you're still mad," he said.
"I'm not–" He looked at me. "Okay… I'm kind of, sort of, still mad… ish," I finished awkwardly.
He smiled. "Do you know what my grandma once told me?"
I shook my head. This was the first time he had ever mentioned his family. I wondered if his grandmother was still alive. I didn't feel comfortable asking, so all I said was, "No."
"Well," he said. "She and my grandfather were married for over forty-five years."
My eyes widened. Forty-five years sounded like an awfully long time. "They must have loved each other very much," I mused.
Texas laughed. "I guess so, but not many people saw that."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well, they were absolutely terrible," he confessed. "My grandma was the worst trickster the family had ever seen."
"Oh really?" I raised my eyebrow at him.
"Oh yes," he said. "Worse than me."
"I find that hard to believe. Did your grandmother ever convince an innocent bystander to help paint someone's car pink and then throw them under the bus?"
It was Texas' turn to raise his eyebrow. "You're not innocent, so don't even try that – but yes, she was much worse than the pink BMW prank – which was your idea, by the way."
"It was–"
"Do you want me to finish the story or not?" he asked.
I gestured for him to continue. "Please, by all means."
"Thank you." But he didn't immediately continue. Instead, Texas moved so that his back was pressed against the wall. Somehow, I ended up between his splayed legs, leaning sideways with my shoulder against his chest. It was nice. It was comfortable. I found myself relaxing into his embrace.
"So, my grandma was the worst at pranking people," he started again. "It's a wonder my grandfather ever asked her to marry him." I laughed, and he chuckled too, shifting me against him more comfortably. "Despite her pranking, he loved the shit outta that woman. I've always wanted their kind of relationship. They were perfect together, but they were only human.
Sometimes, she would push him too far and he'd have to take a day or two to calm down. Usually, he just locked himself in the den to watch football." I looked up and curled my lip at that which made him laugh again. "I'm going to have to stop looking at you if I'm ever going to finish this story."
I smirked but didn't reply.
"Despite that, my grandfather was always the easiest. He'd go away, and he'd come back all better. But when my grandma was mad...that woman could throw a fit. She'd throw dishes at the walls and watch them shatter and then she'd break some more." I frowned and shuddered, remembering one of my mom's episodes from the month before. I knew she was sorry. She couldn't control it. Now that she was on professionally monitored medication she didn't have them so much.
Texas glanced down at me curiously, but I shook my head at him. "Go on," I said. "I'm listening."
He waited a moment more. When I didn't say anything else, he continued. "Well, every time she did that, I got so scared, I would hide in the den with my grandfather. Sometimes, he'd amble out, watch her for a bit before coming into the den with me. He said it was to let her work it out herself. As I got older, though, I started getting picked on more in school. I hated it. I was so mad all the time. I was a lot s
maller then and I couldn't fight back as well either. Now, though, I'm more level headed." I snorted, and he poked me in the side.
“A lot of the time, I'd come home from school just seething. Even if I didn't get into fights, I'd still be riled up. I'd be so angry that I'd feel exhausted by it. Well, of course, with my issues at school, I ticked off my grandmother a time or two. She never yelled at me. She'd simply leave the room, go into the kitchen, and I'd hear dishes breaking. When she came back, she'd be as calm as she ever was, and she would tell me to go to my room or she'd make me clean up the mess. She'd be normal. But it wasn't enough for me. I wanted to rile her up. I felt like I needed someone to yell at me, that I needed someone to be just as mad as me.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
Texas was quiet for several moments before he finally replied. “What I did isn’t all that important,” he said. I wasn’t sure if that was true, or if maybe he just didn’t want to tell me. “But my grandma was a smart woman. Finally, after a lot of bullshit–” I raised my eyebrows at that, but he continued, “– she sat me down, and you know what that crazy old lady told me?” I shook my head.
“She told me, ‘Texas, if all you’re gonna be doin’ is goin’ around and gettin’ mad at every lil’ thing, then it’s not the world that’s the problem. It’s you.’” He shook his head at the memory, and I smiled. His voice was so funny when he talked in what I assumed was supposed to be an elderly southern woman’s voice.
“I was so shocked when she said that, I thought she was blaming me for everything that was wrong. I still get mad. I get mad all the time. But she taught me to control it and to let it out when I need to let it out,” he said.
“How do you control it?” I asked.
He looked down at me, dark eyes glinting in the dim lighting of my bedroom. “She told me the secret was to buy a bunch of cheap glass ornaments – she had a ton of shitty glass plates and china. Whenever she got too mad, she’d go, and she’d break some and then she’d clean up the mess and she’d feel better. She said the act of breaking something is what’ll shock you out of your anger. Cleaning it up will bring you out of it completely.”