“You’re going about this all wrong,” Henry said suddenly, stepping into the doorway.
“Is this going to become a thing?” I shouted at him, stomping my feet and throwing a brush at him. He dodged it easily, threw up his hands in surrender and left me in peace.
“Where’s Noah?” Elliot asked me. “I want him to see what you’re doing to yourself.”
“I didn’t know you were the CEO of Vogue or Elle or –“
“Well I am,” he said matter-of-factly. “And I’m telling you. Those gauges have to go. Besides, you’re doing it for all the wrong reasons. By putting on a bad girl façade, you may be enticing him, not turning him away. I submit that being yourself will be a lot more off-putting.”
“Thanks,” I said, giving him a fake smile of appreciation, “but I disagree.” I grabbed the black, leather, fingerless gloves on the counter and squeezed my hands into them. “He’s probably used to 50’s housewife types. You know, the kind that will bow to his every whim, cook and clean and rub his feet while he just naps all day.”
“I never thought of it that way,” he said, staring at a corner of the tiled floor in thought.
“I can be right sometimes, you know.”
“We’ll celebrate with balloons and confetti after you’ve returned with a successful report.”
“So, how do I look?” I asked him, facing him completely from the front. He gave me the once over and nodded.
“Not my cup of tea, but it will quench the thirst.”
“I’m not sure if I should thank you or be disgusted by that comment.”
“A little of both will suffice.”
“Why, look at you!” Noah replied, standing in the doorway where Henry had once been. “And I thought I was the vampire!”
“A vampire does not wear these type of clothes,” I huffed, taking in my ensemble. The black gauges and gloves, the leather tank top, and my hardened hair and eye shadow. “Hmm,” I murmured, looking back at Noah. “Maybe I do look a little like a vampire.”
“It’s okay. I’m sure gangs aren’t into that kind of thing. Besides, it’s not too late to cancel the date and join me on the dark side.”
“Oh shut up, Noah,” I said, pushing past him. “You’re about as dark as snow.”
I could hear Elliot chuckling as I continued on, past the bedrooms and down the steps of the home that was no longer mine. It was so strange. One of the few things I always wanted was companionship. The house was usually so dark and clammy that it seemed to make me a part of it at times - the loneliness often entering my bones like a winter chill. But ever since I got my wish, and I had gotten my roommates, I was just more irritable. It wasn’t like they were doing anything wrong.
I sighed as I headed out, the door slamming hard behind me. I have to admit that the wind helped. Though it should have been winter at this point, the town of Casper was stuck in an eternal autumn. The leaves had changed colors long ago but they refused to fall off the branches. The wind would scratch at your face for a moment but then disappear for hours on end, just long enough for you to forget it had ever been there. There was an eerie ambience in the air that confused you to no end. The people were friendly once you bumped into them, but otherwise, everyone made it a mission to avoid each other. It was like we had all died and ended up in purgatory, but no one had let us know.
I rubbed my bare forearms and realized how stupid I was to wear a tank top when I arrived at my destination. I had been so deep in thought that I had nearly missed it altogether. I pivoted around and entered the hazardous restaurant. With so little business due to the horrible food and stained walls, the place had to be a front for drugs or something illegal.
A realization hit me.
Maybe this was why Lucas wanted to have dinner there! Maybe his gang or their families owned the place! Was that possible? Did gangs do that? Or was it just the Mafia? I tried to remember the difference when I heard a clear of the throat. I glanced up and saw the same greeter from when I had my date with Henry. He was giving me a bored, glazed over stare and I actually tilted my neck to the side to see if he was looking at me or into my soul.
“Did you make a reservation?” he said suddenly, startling me into a slight jumping motion. He wasn’t amused. “Or are you here to meet with someone?”
“Um, maybe,” I said, looking past him at all the empty tables. Lucas was probably in the back, explaining to the chefs how to properly slice through a ham, or a duck…or a human that refused to give them money.
“So…are you here to eat? The food is particularly good tonight,” he said, his eyes blinking rapidly. He was so greasy looking and his tux was so old and wrinkled that I was insulted by the prospect. Why would anyone want to taste the food when the front of the house took your appetite away?
“Can I ask you a question?” I said, leaning forward, but still at a safe, wont-catch-anything distance. “Is this a front for drug peddling?”
I heard a shrill laugh come from behind the greeter, and I could hardly believe it when I saw it had come from Lucas. He walked over and offered a hand towards me. I stared at it like it was a spider. I really don’t like spiders.
“Geez, it’s a hand, not the plague,” he chuckled.
“I can walk to the table myself,” I said as he shook his head and dropped the gesture. “That’s what’s wrong with you women these days. No respect for chivalry.”
“Yeah right. This is the age of fetishes and perverts. You probably wanted my hand so you could smell it and feel my skin.”
“You’re weird,” he said matter-of-factly, leading me past the greeter to a table. “And I’m not a serial killer.”
“A serial killer would say that’s he not one. Actually, a lot of serial killers think they’re innocent. They either have a mental problem, they’re cleansing evil or they’re doing the Lord’s work.”
“You have a lot of experience with serial killers?” he asked, glancing back at me with an eyebrow raised.
“Perhaps,” I said, giving him the best cold-hearted scowl I could manage. He laughed so I don’t think I succeeded. He waved a hand at one of the tables, one that looked exactly like every other, and we both sat down. I took a gaze around the restaurant. If the place had been crowded, I don’t know how anyone could find their way out. It was one big Pac man game. An endless maze of rows and tables washed in red and brown.
“So you kill people?” he asked me bluntly, the moment I turned my eyes back to his. I could feel my eyes widen and I nervously patted my hair…for whatever reason. I must have looked like such an idiot.
“Wha-what? Kill people?” I stammered, putting both hands on the table like I was going to be handcuffed.
“Yeah. You said you have experience with serial killers. You must have picked some stuff up.”
“Oh!” I laughed too loudly. I could feel the greeter’s eyes looking back at me. “Oh that! You’re too funny.”
“You really are strange,” he said, unamused by my embarrassment. He just sat back in his seat and stared at me like we had had the same conversation a million times. He looked away and I found myself immediately examining him. I noticed when he had walked up that he was wearing black jeans, and a brown leather jacket, but now I could see there was a blue dress shirt underneath, and a tie too. I didn’t think people like him dressed up at all so the sight shocked me. Was he actually taking me out to dinner? Seriously? Of course, based on his bored expression, I was blowing it.
Wait. Blowing it? I didn’t even want to go to dinner with him in the first place…did I? I mean, I did accept the offer, but that was only because he was going to follow me into the cafeteria if I didn’t. Surprisingly, I had forgotten all about the reason I had agreed. Was there something else about him I needed to know? Was it his dangerous lifestyle? His beautiful hair? There was something drawing me to him. Something keeping my butt planted firmly in the seat.
“So, your family owns this place?” I asked randomly, dying to break the silence. He looked over at m
e, and I could see a glint of play in his eyes.
“Wondering why I would choose such a dump?”
“Yeah, it’s crossed my mind.”
“Well, I was curious. I wanted to see if you were crazy enough to actually come here.”
“Yep. That’s me. Crazy as they come.”
“No, it’s a good thing,” he said. “Sorry if I was daydreaming just now. It’s just…I’m not used to going out with girls like you.”
“I could have told you that,” I snickered.
“What kind of girls do you think I tend to be with?”
“Girls like Margaret.”
“What’s she like?”
“A 50’s housewife that is stuck in our time. A servant. You either go out with someone like her or the airheaded girls that can only justify their worth by what guy is sticking his tongue down their throat.”
“That’s graphic,” he said.
“That’s how it is.”
“Well, to be honest…though I’ve never met a girl from the 50’s, I can honestly say that those airheaded girls are usually the bullet points on my dating resume.”
“So where do I come in then? Are you diversifying? Trying to get some weird chick on there so you can tell people one day, ‘hey, I branched out.’”
“Not at all,” he said slowly. His lips caught my attention for a second, but I quickly diverted my eyes back to his eyes.
“Then why am I here?”
“Because you’re not like them. I never met a girl that talks to me the way you do.”
“Didn’t think you would be down for that sort of thing. Backtalk.”
“Oh, I don’t care for backtalk at all,” he said, “but there’s always pros with the cons.”
“Explain,” I demanded. He laughed and held up a finger for me to wait. I nearly ripped the finger off when I realized he had done it because a waiter had finally arrived. Settle down, Alexandra, I had to tell myself. No need to be on edge the entire time.
“Are you ready to order?” a girl my age asked him with a dingy notepad in hand. He grabbed the laminated menu from the holster at the end of the table and scanned it quickly.
“Cheeseburger with fries and a water.”
“K,” the girl muttered, writing nothing down. She turned to me and she gasped in horror, dropping the notepad onto the floor. Lucas picked it up for her as she kept a hand over her widened mouth.
“Is there something wrong?” I asked, patting various patches of my face. Did I apply my make-up wrong? No. Surely Lucas would have said…
“He’s not going to attack me, is he?” she asked, taking two steps back from the table and pointing at Lucas with her pencil. Lucas handed the notepad out to her but she refused to take it.
“Oh,” I replied, remembering my date with Henry. I never did find out what happened to the waitress he rendered unconscious.
“Ashley had to get stitches for a cut on her forehead,” she told me, as if reading my mind. I kept my eyes fixed on her as I nodded, but I could feel Lucas examining me like I was under a microscope. “She quit too.”
“I’m sorry that happened,” I said, my voice cracking. “I didn’t know he was so violent. I…we’re not together anymore and I’ve moved on. This is Lucas,” I said, waving a hand in his direction like it was a magic show and he was the next act. Lucas flashed her a weak-knee inducing smile and handed her the notepad gently. She took it this time, and brushed back one of her bangs with pencil in hand. She couldn’t get her eyes off of him once he put on the charm.
“I’ll take the chicken parm dinner and a water,” I muttered after a few seconds. She blinked back to reality and wrote down our orders this time. She exited the scene with a shuffle of her feet, and I watched her until she was back in the kitchen. When I turned back to Lucas, he was staring at me with so much curiosity, I thought it was going to kill him. You know. Curiosity killed the cat…never mind.
“What was that all about?” he asked with a wide eyes. “Abusive boyfriend?”
“Not exactly,” I said, unsure of what to say next. I didn’t want to bring up Henry. Especially if the emotional wreck was living in my house.
“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” I said adamantly. “Just a friend who lost it. He did love me…but it wasn’t meant to be. I had to let him down gently.”
“There is something about you,” he said with a nod. “Maybe I’m here because I want to figure out what that is.”
“So tell me more,” I said. “You were going to tell me the pros and cons of being with a girl like me.”
“Yeah,” he laughed, randomly grabbing a sugar packet from the side and then throwing it like a mini-Frisbee to the side. “Excuse me, I’m not used to explaining my actions to people.”
“But you’re going to try with me?”
“Yeah, I’m going to try,” he laughed nervously.
“Why?”
“Because I’m trying to change,” he said, his face suddenly becoming deathly serious. “And I think you might be the one who can make that happen.”
TRACK 7 – Trouble Finds Me
Did he know my secret?
That was the thought that ran through my head and it scared me to no end. And yet, it would make so much sense. Why else would such an elegant, gorgeous creature seek me out if it wasn’t for some enchanting song I didn’t know I was producing?
He probably staked me out for weeks, finding out who I was and what I could do. He didn’t care about me. He was just wondering what caught his interest in this ordinary, awkward girl. He probably laughed when he realized that it was not me at all. It was just the power I had no control over.
Like anyone else who would discover my abilities, they would seek out how they could gain from it. They would use me like a tool, without any care for how broken I would become from their use. No doubt he already had a form picked out for himself. How cool it would be to become a vampire, or a ghost or maybe a werewolf. What he didn’t know, however, was that as clever as he thought he was – there was more to me than doe eyes, a bra, and makeup. He had messed with the wrong girl, and it didn’t matter if he was a gang member, or how many crimes he committed in the past, he was going to regret the day he met Alexandra Cain.
“Change how?” I asked, patiently waiting for his answer, and ready to critique every word that tripped out his mouth. “How are you trying to change, exactly?”
“I’m tired of being with Blood Snow. You heard about me, right?”
“I know it’s a gang, and you’re one of the founding members.” I said.
“Yeah, that’s true,” he said, shifting in his seat. His head was down and he was blinking rapidly. Was he trying not to cry? No. There was no way. “I was young then,” he said, lifting his head. His eyes and cheeks were heavy as his gaze met mine. “I mean, I’m still young…but I didn’t know what I was doing then. Didn’t have much money and me and Reign saw what getting into selling weed could get you. I –“
“- Reign?”
“Yeah,” he laughed, shaking his head. “His real name is Way, but he likes Reign better. Sounds more like royalty.”
“So you two are brothers? Best friends?”
“Both,” he replied. “But neither by blood. Just circumstance. We were angry a lot back then, but money can soothe you if you let it. Reign didn’t. I was content with the few members we had. Just selling at a discounted price for more customers, but it brought a lot of heat and attention. Reign got paranoid, and instead of protection, he chose to strike the other businesses first. Lots of people got killed, even those that weren’t coming after us. That’s why my mom took me out of there and had us move in with my aunt here in town. Mom died a couple years ago from cancer…my aunt thinks I’m a grown man now. She could care less if I even went back to that old life, but I don’t want to.”
This story was not at all what I was expecting.
“Um,” I said, as the waitress silently put down our drinks. “I don’t understand. You’re not part of the gang any
more, but I still don’t get where I fit in this.”
“I’m still part of that Blood Snow unofficially. Reign and I will always be friends and he calls me every couple of days to talk. I tell him I want no part in it, but we have a bond. I’ll admit, I don’t want him completely out my life either, but it might take that to get rid of the past. It wasn’t until I moved here to Casper, and I…I saw how things could be different. I didn’t even know people lived like this to be honest.”
“Like this? What?” I laughed. “Boring? Eat, sleep and work?”
“Exactly,” he said. “Yeah, there’s drama sometimes. But it’s not like what I’ve seen. Here in Casper there’s little violence. No murder. If there is drugs, it’s only used in privacy. It’s not in your face. There’s still some attempt at decency. Even if people aren’t right, they’re at least not trying to bring the world down with them.”
“I would love an ordinary life,” I muttered. He laughed.
“You do have an ordinary life,” he said. “But you got just enough spice to help me change.”
Change. There was that word again.
“My mom,” he said, leaning forward. “She told me several times that people don’t change on their own. Don’t have the will power or the strength. Best way to change is to live for someone else. That’s what my dad did before he passed away, back when I was too young to remember. She said he was reckless and going nowhere, but she saw the good in him, and that was enough for him to turn his life around. He lived for her, and she lived for him. And in the end, they were better people for it.”
He paused to take a gulp of water.
“All I know is Blood Snow. It’s all I’ve ever put my time and energy into, and I know it’s not right for me. So…that’s why I’m seeing if this will work.”
My Immortal Playlist (The Siren Collection #1) Page 8