by C. L. Stone
“I can’t leave.”
“I’d go with you,” he said. He sat up, ripping off the blue shirt, revealing his bare chest. He unbuttoned and slid off his jeans, kicking off his boots and socks, until he was just in boxer briefs. As my eyes adjusted, I caught the shapes of his hips, the muscles along his stomach. He wedged himself between the covers and then leaned over, collecting me in his arms until I was next to him. The best I could do, the most comfortable position, was actually pressing my hands to his chest.
“I mean I can’t just take off,” I said. My fingers traced along his warm bare skin. “There’s Wil. He’s probably really worried about me now.”
“We may take him along, too. But if we start taking him, involving him, he’ll be in the same mess, he’ll have to hide just like you. Coaltar might connect him to you and he’ll use him to get to you.” He kissed my nose. “Sleep.”
“Marc,” I said, wanting to be honest. I didn’t know how to explain it. “I don’t think I’m ... I’m not really ready for this.”
“Like I am?” He nestled up against me. “Just sleep for now. Don’t leave. We’ll figure it out later.”
I didn’t want that. I wanted to stay up and figure out what I wanted. I wanted all the answers to what I was feeling, and the confused guilt over that just a few hours ago, I’d been kissing Coaltar with nearly the same desires I suddenly felt for Marc. Marc was incredibly handsome, like Blake. He wasn’t rich but he worked hard and he did the right thing. Didn’t he?
And what about Brandon?
None of my relationships had ever been perfect, and this felt like incredibly bad timing, bad circumstances, bad everything. Still, I couldn’t help the feelings. In the dark, beside Marc in his bed, with the other boys out there working to solve the problems that I’d created and dropped upon them, this had to be the worst moment.
I wanted to know the future. Marc made it sound like they’d invite me to stay with them, just like they did with him. His kiss told me he wanted something more from me. A deeper relationship, perhaps. Again, I felt trapped, like he wanted to take care of me, and I was helpless with nothing to offer in return. No job, no future, nothing. I wasn’t even wearing my own clothes, but his and Raven’s.
I wanted to know if Marc was thinking beyond Coaltar, too. If his kiss meant he wanted me or if he was just trying to make me feel better. An old boyfriend once told me I couldn’t analyze the future by a first date, or a first kiss with a guy. Girls, he’d said, would go out with a guy for a day, and then want to work out exactly if he would keep her forever before they went out on a next date, when it simply didn’t work like that. It took me a long time to realize a kiss, or a date didn’t mean he was thinking about forever, or even a month from now. It’s just too soon.
It was simply hard to accept, because I was lost and didn’t see a future me at all, so seeing one with Marc, or anyone else, simply didn’t work. Maybe he did feel those sparks he was talking about. Maybe I felt them, too. Maybe we were both lonely and needed someone right now to hold onto until things looked better. Like Brandon, who had made me stay beside him until morning, until he was sure I hadn’t fallen to pieces and could move again. Like Blake not wanting me to run off into the dark, alone in the middle of the night. Maybe he just wanted to keep tabs on me, but why did I feel there was something more? Or had I just been hoping?
And why was I thinking about Blake now? God help me, but I was. As horrible as the truth was when I found out, I discovered a tiny part telling me that I still didn’t understand the whole thing. He’d had so many opportunities to do me in. He could have left me to those gang members. He could have done so many things to me and he didn’t. Why? I didn’t understand him at all and that was what drove me insane. I needed an answer.
I swiped away the thoughts for now. I willed sleep to take me, to help me to forget and to help me build that wall around my heart again until I could figure it out. How could I even think of a relationship, of liking anyone, and least of all love someone, when I wasn’t even sure who I was anymore?
As I fell asleep, I still clutched to Marc, because my secret hope was that when I did, someone, maybe Marc, maybe anyone, would see the real me. Maybe then, I wouldn’t need the wall around my heart.
It felt impossible, but in the weakness of the moment, I wanted that. More than anything.
MARC
I slept deeply. I couldn’t figure out the time, but I sensed it was before dawn when Marc got up and left the room. I drifted to his side of the bed, feeling the warmth of him in the sheets, and the spot his head made in the pillow, smelling where he’d lain. Even when I wasn’t really sleeping, I gazed at the wall of his room, simply staring off. I was too numb, too empty of thought and I luxuriated in that. It was the brief escape from the mess inside of me.
The scent of fresh coffee drifted to me, stronger than the usual lingering fragrance the apartment seemed to have. I stared off at the door, brain dead. I eyeballed the shelf with books and knickknacks. The corner of the floor piled with shirts and other clothes. The half-open drawers with boxer shorts hanging out. The closet that stood open from when Brandon had borrowed some of his clothes the night before.
Marc materialized in the bedroom doorway and came to me, and stood by the bed. He held out a coffee mug.
“Bambi,” he cooed.
I stretched a leg out, nudging him in the good thigh with my foot in a faux kick. He caught it, eased it back over on the bed to place it gently down. He lowered until he sat next to me on the bed.
“I’ve got something for you,” he said.
“It’s coffee,” I said, in an unsurprised tone.
“It’s mocha. I think you’ll like it.”
I grunted, sitting up. My hair fell against my face, and I had to rake back the strands several times to get it out of the way. My hair was too long and needed to be cut.
He waited until I was on the edge of the bed beside him and then passed me the large black mug.
The warmth drew me in first, followed by the rich aroma of coffee infused with mocha and a spritz of hazelnut. There were other things, too, but I couldn’t pick them out by smell. I put the mug to my lips, sipping to check the temperature. The liquid filled my mouth, rolling down my throat. The caffeine splash forced my eyes open. The taste was smooth, better than I expected. I usually hated the bitter taste of coffee and masked it with plenty of milk and sugar. His didn’t have the acidic bitterness, which surprised me. Was this really coffee?
Marc’s eyebrows rose on his face and a smile touched his lips. “Not bad?”
“You talk like you grew the beans yourself.”
“I made the flavor blend,” he said. “Do you like it?”
Coffee came in flavors? I didn’t drink it much, but my extent of coffee knowledge was the cheap brands and usually it was a luxury we couldn’t often afford. “I like hazelnut.”
He smirked. “I have a knack with hazelnuts.”
I rubbed the last of sleep out of my eyes and took another sip. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Still out. It’s just you and me.” He stood up, and held out his hand, palm up. “Come on. Breakfast is ready.”
“Breakfast?”
“Upstairs.”
I blinked at him, confused. His eyes sparked with something mischievous. He was holding a secret back and was waiting for me to follow to find it.
I stood up slowly, unsure about surprises. He captured my wrist, taking the coffee mug and escorted me out the bedroom door.
I followed him out into the apartment and he headed toward the front door.
“How is breakfast upstairs?” I asked. They didn’t have an upstairs.
“You’ll see.” He passed back my coffee mug and then opened the front door. He snagged a cell phone off the desk and then nudged me out into the hallway.
I padded barefoot out with him to the elevator, careful not to trip on the long legs of the pajama pants I was wearing. I felt out of place next to him since he was alrea
dy dressed, in jeans and a black button-up short sleeved shirt, opened to reveal the black tank shirt underneath. The T-shirt and pajama pants I wore were way too big on me and I felt like a shapeless mass.
We boarded the elevator. He smacked the button and we started heading up. I kept the mug close to my face, sipping coffee and keeping warm.
When the elevator doors opened, a breeze swept in, chilling me. I flinched, pulling away, from the bright sunlight barreling in, cutting through thick clouds that still lingered from last night’s rain. My heart skipped a moment when I realized the elevator reached the roof. Were we supposed to be up here?
Marc tugged my wrist and drew me outside. I blinked several times, adjusting to the change in light and to the continued breeze. Once I got used to it, the wind felt glorious on my skin, and pushed the material of the clothes into my body in a silky motion. The roof was concrete, and while it chilled my toes, it wasn’t too bad.
Marc drew me further out until I spotted the ironwork table and chairs set up near the edge of the roof. The view overlooked the West Ashley River that emptied into Charleston Bay. From our vantage point, we could even see the start of the City Marina. Down below, cars were driving by on their way into the city, or out toward John’s Island. The Ashely River Bridge was gleaming under the sunlight. Everywhere my eyes turned, there was something new to look at. I’d seen it before, but not from up here.
“I used to come up here a lot when we first moved in,” he said. He tugged me toward the chairs. He held one out for me so I could sit in it. “Personally, I think it’s the best view in town. Not even the rich cats over in the South of Broad have this.”
I imagined they didn’t. I sat, and realized that when you did, it cut off the street closest to the building and the parking lot right below from view, but left the river, the bridge, the bay, and beyond it, to the homes facing the river on John’s Island. Picturesque perfect.
Marc gripped the edge of the iron table and angled it closer slowly as to not spill anything on it. On top was another coffee mug, along with an old fashioned metal coffee pot, with sugar and cream canisters beside it. There were two covered black bowls on top of server plates. He took the cover off of the one in front of me to reveal a generous helping of hash browns, eggs, sausage, green peppers and gravy with a biscuit on the side.
“You cook?” I asked.
“Someone has to,” he said.
If he had told me that the first moment I met him, I probably would have fallen head over heels for him then. I didn’t have room to think about it now, and my stomach started growling so loud, louder than the breeze that picked up around us. I claimed my bowl, and for a good ten minutes or so, I was simply lost in one of the best breakfasts I’d ever had in my entire life. I didn’t even realize what I was eating, I was just shoveling, as if worried if I didn’t, it would all disappear.
I only slowed when I was almost to the bottom of my bowl and wanted to savor the last bit. I looked up, gazing out at the sky, and the homes nestled among greenery looking out into the water of the bay. There were a couple of small boats making circles in the water.
I stared off, with my tongue glued to the top of my mouth. Marc had parked himself on the chair next to me, and had eaten his, although he took his time.
Now that this silence had dropped between us while eating, I couldn’t think of anything to say. I swallowed, hating the awkwardness. “It’s good,” I said.
He laughed. “I hoped it was if you ate most of it already.” He reached an arm out, resting a palm at the nape of my neck. It was such a casual and cozy move, and my stomach’s wiggly sparks started coming alive.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I said.
“Nope. I don’t have to do anything.” His hand clutched at my neck gently, massaging with intention. “I did it because I wanted to. I asked you to join me because I wanted you with me.”
Why did he have to be so incredible? And it didn’t even feel fake. He was making an effort. I still wasn’t ready to explore what this was between us. I was afraid to ask, because I was afraid he’d say he was trying to comfort a friend, and the kiss last night was just a weak moment. I was afraid he’d say he liked me a lot and wanted a relationship. I was afraid he’d tell me he was teasing me and he’d drop me off at the street now and wave goodbye. Every possibility was scary.
So I ignored it. “How’s the whole Coaltar thing?” I asked. “And Wil?”
Marc sucked in a breath, and raked his fingers through the longer locks of his brown hair at the crown of his head, pulling it back away from his eyes. “From what I understand, when Axel started watching last night, he hadn’t seen Wil, but when he asked around, neighbors were pretty sure they’d seen him enter earlier. The only one to leave was Jack, and he returned early in the morning. There wasn’t a ruckus or a complaint, so Wil is probably okay. Kevin traded places with Axel and has been watching the hotel since. He said he hasn’t seen Jack or Wil leave the room at all this morning.”
He wasn’t going to school? I tried counting off the days. “Is it the weekend? Already?”
He smiled. “Time flies.”
At least I didn’t have to worry about if he’d get kidnapped on the way to school. I waved it off. I would have felt better if one of them had actually seen him but if the neighbors said he was inside ... although I didn't know if the neighbors actually paid attention to us. I couldn’t even tell you who our neighbors were. I barely knew the manager. “Did someone see him get to school?”
“Corey checked the computer records. They said he was there for his classes on Friday. He signed in.”
I nodded. “Where’s Coaltar now?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I just got updated on Wil and what was going on there. I haven’t heard about Coaltar.”
“They haven’t told you?”
“They only tell me what I need to know, and they’ll call if they need me, or you. Right now, if it’s quiet, there’s a reason.”
“What if he’s on his yacht? What if he’s leaving?”
“They’ll do what they’re supposed to.”
I frowned. The sight of the water left me unsettled. There was something I was missing, something not right.
If I were like Coaltar, and I had to get drugs out of the city, and I knew someone was watching my house and waiting for me to leave, what would I do?
First, there was the delivery. I’d have to divert that so maybe if anyone was watching, they wouldn’t see the drugs being brought onto the yacht.
And if I knew people were watching City Marina, I’d probably want to steer clear of it completely.
“What if he stops the delivery to City Marina?” I asked.
Marc sighed, shrugging. “He might. He may have the guy hold on to the shipment. He may cancel the deal altogether.”
“It didn’t seem like he wanted to.”
“There’s really little we can do,” he said. “The police can’t stop the purchase. The product isn’t illegal. At least not yet. Even then, they’d have to get search warrants and by then, this distributer could get rid of everything on his own if Coaltar asked him. That batch was just the last one, but not the only one. He could have told them to dump it into the river, he just didn’t want it distributed.”
“Can’t we get to the batches he has?”
“They’re probably all on his boat.”
I tapped my fingers against the wrought iron arm. “So he could get away with this?”
“He could,” he said, though his eyes diverted from me, glaring at the rooftop.
“What is it?” I asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He traced a fingertip on the table, grinding tiny dust particles into the top. “The truth is, there’s nothing we can do.”
“What do you mean?” I sat up sharply. “You’re ... the Academy. You do things.”
He blew out a heavy breath. “That’s just it. We’re not the police. We’re not the FBI. We monitor the city. We fix what problem
s we can ourselves. When someone breaks the law in a way we can’t manage, we inform the proper people and let them handle it. Even if we see him taking drugs to the boat, even if we know what they are and he’s taking them out of the city, there’s really nothing we can do but monitor. If we tried to stop him directly, it’s exposing ourselves in ways we don’t want and risking the lives of everyone involved. The best we can do is warn the town he might be going to. That might be up to Corey to figure it out. We’d have to find them. We may not have any Academy folks there.” He dusted off his fingers and wiped them along his jeans. “He’s not really doing anything against the law, at least not yet. And the only crime he could be committing would be in a completely different country. Different laws. Out of our hands. And telling the police this stuff might poison people, well, there’s a hundred different batches of these synthetics they’re trying to deal with. They’re not going to take the time to stop someone taking a non-illegal substance out of the country.”
I stood up, clutching the table and leaning on it as I focused on him. “How can we just sit here and let him poison an entire village? There’s probably innocent people there. They shouldn’t have to suffer. Coaltar shouldn’t get away with this.”
“We might be able to detain him under suspicious motives, but intent is hard to prove. We’d have to expose ourselves to do it. And you’re our only witness.”
“So?”
“So if you think he’s chasing you now, he’ll really hunt you down if he thinks you could be someone who could put him in jail. Last I checked, thugs don’t really like it when you rat them out.”
I made fists and pressed them to my eyes. “We can’t just sit here.”
“Sometimes we have to,” he said quietly. It was his stillness that captured my attention. The command was gone from his voice, stripped until all that was left was Marc, who once was a thug himself, and now was something completely different. “I hate it, too, sometimes. We protect our families. That’s how the Academy works. We protect ourselves and where we can, we help those around us. We start with home and work outward. If we tried to solve every problem out there, we’d wear ourselves out. We can’t do it all. There’s a point where we have to draw the line and take ourselves out, for our own safety.”