The Mask of the Damned (The Damned of Lost Creek Book 2)

by Danae Ayusso

  Remi roared with laughter.

  “Thank Simian for that one,” I said, getting to my feet and she followed. “But what I do know is that Bleu likes you and blushes and smiles when you’re around. All summer, I never saw him blush or smile like that, I didn’t see him make eye contact with anyone but Kieran. That means something. What? I don’t know, but I think it means he might have a crush on you as well.”

  Her eyes widened. “Do you think?”

  I nodded, taking my time walking down the hall to the library where the rest of the class was.

  “Why would he want to be with a big hot mess like me?” she argued.

  Ooh I hate how much we’re alike.

  Yeah, it’s weird seeing it from this point of view though.

  Agreed.

  “Because he’s a big hot mess as well,” I offered with a shrug and she laughed, pushing me into the wall.

  “I should say you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Remi said, “but I can’t. Somehow, you landed the man whore every bitch wanted… Not this bitch though. I like my men pale, scarred up, and skinny. That whole EMO thing just does it for me.”

  Bleu’s EMO?

  I shrugged.

  I’m not familiar with the EMO thing. In Philly, it was bangers and hoodrats.

  “How’d you do that?” she asked, looking at me curiously. “No one else has been able to steal Draven Van Zul’s attention, and you just walked in and took it.”

  That’s interesting.

  “I didn’t do anything… Actually, he was screwing with me when I stumbled upon him in the woods before being hogtied by Cinder Dick. Then, he showed up at my house, outside the woods, on the other side of the fencing, and it snowballed from there. In all fairness, I thought he was a demon or a delusion. I didn’t realize he was a flesh and blood demon of virginity that roamed the forests of Anaconda.”

  Remi laughed.

  “Man Whore is a complicated Frenchman, and I don’t know what in the hell to do with him,” I admitted.

  “Welcome to the club, Baby Girl,” she said. “At least neither of us know what in the hell to do with the men dumb enough to give us a second glance.”

  That’s true.

  When we reached the library, Remi pulled me to a stop.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Why are you doing this?”

  Does she know about the curse and damned thing?

  I don’t think that’s what she’s talking about, Sis.

  “What exactly am I doing?” I asked.

  “Sure, make me fucking say it,” Remi grumbled and I chuckled. “You gave me a tablet because I didn’t have one.”

  “I don’t need it,” I assured her.

  “But you didn’t know that,” she argued. “Coming from the similar background that we do, I know that you see everything you’ve been given since finding your father as something to protect, to make sure no hater steals or break it because they can. The way you hold onto your bag, and never take it off, is proof of that.”

  I looked to my hands; they were wrapped around my bag’s strap, a death grip, as Estelí would have called it.

  “Without giving it a second thought you gave me your tablet,” she said. “You opened your home to me, something that if I were you I wouldn’t share with anyone! Without question, you opened your home and family to me… You didn’t even know me. You got me pulled from that child-molesting fuck I was put with, got the other kids pulled from him, and Simian is now investigating it with Family Services to make sure no one else is put there. You did all that without batting an eye or grasping the significance of it.”

  Girlie has a point.

  “It’s what a friend would do, Remi,” I assured her.

  She shook her head. “No, they wouldn’t. You didn’t even know me… I was done. I was going to end it. After lunch, I was going to throw in the towel and say fuck it. Take a header off a bridge or walk into traffic, maybe pop a handful of pills from Mom’s stash. I was done. I was tired of people looking at me how they do, tired of getting the shaft because of the woman I can’t get away from no matter how hard I try… I can’t get away from her reputation, from everything she’s done over the years. Then, you came and did what no one else ever has: treated me with dignity. I hated you for it. I hated that you, a preppy ass white girl with diamonds in her ears and a fancy, expensive wardrobe, could look past the scars and my bitchiness to the damaged little girl inside.”

  I offered a reassuring smile. “It’s what friends do, Girlie,” I repeated. “In Philly it was the love of strangers that kept me safe, that made me think I was worth more, and worth protecting. I don’t have very many people, very many friends, but I consider you one of them. If only it doesn’t kill you,” I admitted.

  That may have been more than I needed to say.

  Remi shook her head then hugged me. “I hate you,” she sniveled.

  This is awkward.

  I patted her back. “You only hate me because I might get you laid,” I teased, trying to calm her down. “Ew, you’re touching me,” I complained and she laughed, holding me tighter. “Personal space. Personal space, you bitch!”

  She chuckled.

  A content sigh stole our attention.

  “That is a lesbo sandwich I wouldn’t mind being the meat in,” Draven said, leaning against the wall, watching us.

  Remi flipped him off before grabbing my ass. “Mine,” she informed him, pulling me into her then curled her tongue.

  He laughed, nodding his understanding.

  “Don’t challenge him,” I complained, swatting her backside. “In the end I’ll be the one having to get the restraining order, not you.”

  Remi chuckled, so did Draven. “I’ll give you this one, Baby Girl.”

  The bell rang so she stepped back and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand.

  “Thank you,” she said, regaining her composure.

  “Nothing to thank me for,” I assured her. “We’ll work on the report at the house. Our library is filled with books so I’m sure there’s something there to start with.”

  Remi nodded.

  Bleu and Kieran joined us.

  Remi looked at Bleu. “Hey,” she whispered.

  Bleu smiled and took her hand in his and they headed down the hall towards her next class.

  Kieran watched them head off without him.

  I threw my arm across his shoulders, startling him. “Be a gentleman and escort me to our shared block?” I asked, batting my lashes.

  He blushed and nodded with a smile.

  One more awkward situation avoided, but it made me realize why Justice doesn’t like Draven.

  My Frenchman is competition for my attention. I didn’t realize it until that moment, until seeing it first hand with Kieran and Bleu. It was as if Kieran didn’t exist suddenly, and only Remi and Bleu did.

  “I understand now,” I whispered.

  Kieran looked over at me.

  “Now I have to get you laid, too!” I beamed, smiling wide.

  His eyes widened and Draven chuckled from behind us, shaking his head.

  ****

  I leaned back, away from the Van Zul looking at me.

  What he was looking at?

  I don’t know.

  In third period, Christian and the rest of the Van Zuls, the only other students in Advance Placement French, stared at me all period and I struggled to ignore them. They spoke in nothing but French, most of which I couldn’t understand. Draven, more than once had said something that caused a shoving match between the Van Zuls, but they always ended in chuckles or shit talking.

  I wasn’t sure what they were talking about, and Miss Lea was being a snooty bitch and ignoring me.

  Now, in sixth period, the staring contest has started again.

  This time, it wasn’t all of them.

  It was only Christian.

  His head tilted to one side before tilting the other direction.

  I reach
ed out and stuck my finger up his nose. Not far enough to pull a booger out, but enough that it caused him to gross out and pull away from me, swatting at my hand.

  “Ew,” Christian complained, leaning away from me when I leaned into him, climbing up on the desk, crawling across it, getting his face. “What are you doing?!” he demanded when I reached out for his nose again.

  Kieran giggled, stealing both of our attention.

  “You think her violating my orifice is amusing?” Christian asked with a smirk.

  Kieran blushed, nodding.

  “Huh, there might be hope for you yet,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

  I snorted. “Cousin, you could do so much better than a moody Van Zul,” I assured Kieran.

  His eyes widened and he softly smacked my arm, shaking his head.

  Christian moaned and dismissively waved me away. “Shoo, be gone, Doll Face. I have a silent little pony to break,” he said before smooching his lips at Kieran.

  Not sure what that meant, and not wanting to find out first hand, I grabbed my bag and went to the opposite side of the classroom where it was slightly safer.

  “What’s up, Mikey?” Shep asked, balancing an overly sharp pencil on the tip of his finger from his sister’s desk where he was sitting.

  I shrugged, sitting on the floor in the corner by the windows.

  Lizzy and Paul are in the opposite corner bitching under their breaths.

  Dillon’s scrambling to figure out a new lesson plan and is rearranging the lesson plans for her other block and classes.

  Draven is sitting with his head on his desk, napping by the looks of it.

  That much drool is only possible with unconsciousness.

  Bleu’s head is keeping time with the music blaring in his headphones while he taps away on his laptop. If I had to venture a guess, he was shopping.

  “Mikey?” Shep asked again, looking over at me.

  I shook my head. “I’m ready for a nap, that’s all,” I assured him, putting my headphones on.

  Before the music could start, my cell phone started vibrating.

  “Dillon?” I asked.

  Dismissively she waved for me to take the call.

  I looked at the caller ID. It was a Philly area code but I didn’t know whose number it was and they wanted a video call.

  “What’s wrong, Mikey?” Shep asked.

  “I don’t know who it is,” I said, answering the call.

  The face that flooded the screen caused tears to flood my eyes.

  “Mom?!” De’Von asked, and it effectively stole the attention of everyone that was conscious in the room. “Mom!”

  I smiled. “Hey, Boo. Are you okay?” I asked, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.

  He gave me a look, ignoring the tears staining his cheeks. “That has got to be the dumbest thing you’ve ever asked,” he scolded.

  I laughed, nodding my agreement.

  “Where are you, Mom?” he asked, his blue eyes moving over the screen, as if trying to see around me.

  “I can’t tell you,” I said.

  “Because of those cracka’ ass motherfu-”

  “Language, Young Man!” I interrupted. “Just because you are from the hood doesn’t mean you need to sound like it. You are too smart to lower yourself to that street thinking and desecration of the English language.”

  De’Von cocked an eyebrow.

  “Don’t give me that look, Young Man. I invented that look,” I reminded him.

  A smile filled his face before he roared with laughter.

  I put my headphones on and connected them via Bluetooth to the cell phone so we’d have some privacy.

  “Now that you’re done being a brat and testing my patience,” I said, trying to figure out how to connect the two units. “Tell me all about summer school. What projects did you do?”

  De’Von bounced with excitement and was off and running after that, rambling a mile a minute as Mama Jones would say.

  Where he got the cell phone, I don’t know, and I can only assume that it was from Mama Jones’ Price supplied piece of ass that was seeing to their needs. Personally, I don’t think De’Von needs a cell phone, he’s only a kid after all that needs to concentrate on his studies, but seeing his light brown face, sparkling light blue eyes, beautiful smile, and overly animated expressions is exactly what I needed.

  De’Von is so much like Blue Boy that it was scary, but the ways that he wasn’t like him just made sense. He’s the perfect combination of Blue Boy and me: my smarts, his father’s smart-ass wit and inability to take anything seriously, and just enough attitude that it gets him in trouble. Those that didn’t know Da’Niyah was De’Von’s biological mother thought I was because he was my mini-me.

  “I don’t like the purple,” he said, making a face. “Did they make you do that? Is it some kid of white person thing? Instead of jumping you in the shower they hold you down and cut your hair and dye it? White people are crazy.”

  I chuckled, shaking my head. “No. Justice suggested it… She named herself.”

  “No shit?”

  I nodded. “Language. And no, it isn’t a white person thing or rite of passage. Halfway house caused the haircut and the color was Justice trying something new. I like it. It’s different. Modern, edgy, totally cracka’ ass fantastic,” I said.

  De’Von roared with laughter.

  “I thought you’d like that,” I said. “I’m glad you called, Boo. Even if I’m in the middle of class and everyone is looking at me, trying to figure out who I’m talking to.”

  A smile filled his face. “Let me see them!” he beamed.

  “Why, are you going to flip them off?” I asked, suspicious.

  “Of course not, Mom. I want to see what white people in their natural habitat looks like,” De’Von said, imitating me when being a smart ass.

  I sighed, shaking my head. “Fine, behold the rare to North Philly white people in their natural form and environment,” I said, ominously, before turning the phone around.

  The others looked from me to the little black kid filling the screen of my cell phone.

  “They are so pale and pasty,” De’Von whispered in awe. “Ooh, do they have cowboy hats? Make one put on their cowboy hat, Mom.”

  I turned the phone around and cocked an eyebrow. “They don’t have cowboy hats… That I’ve seen,” I admitted and he laughed.

  Dillon cleared her throat.

  “Sorry, Boo,” I said. “I have to get back to class. Dillon is trying to figure out something and I think she needs the assistance of superior genius,” I said.

  “Let me see her,” De’Von said.

  I turned the cell phone and showed him Dillon.

  “Damn. Those things could double as a floatation device!”

  “Hey!” I snapped, turning the phone so I could see him. “You are way too young to be commenting on the size of someone’s breasts. You hear me? You aren’t like your father. You are better than that, De’Von.”

  He made a mocking face.

  “I’m serious, Young Man. You are not becoming a father at twelve like he did, do you understand?”

  De’Von groaned. “Yes, Ma’am. She’s a total Betty!”

  “Yes, she is. I’ll call you tonight. Tell Mama that I’ll talk to her later after I talk to Price and let her know that everything’s okay and that she’s right.”

  He nodded. “Okay. Make you sure you call.”

  “I will. I love you, Boo,” I said, caressing his face on the screen.

  It wasn’t the same as caressing his cheek, but it was the best I could get now.

  De’Von forced a smile and ignored the tear rolling down his cheek. “I love you, too, Mom. Call tonight,” he said before hanging up.

  I pocked my cell phone and wiped my eyes on the back of my hand.

  “He seems like a sweet kid,” Shep said.

  “Not at all,” I said with a chuckle, trying to compose myself. “He has a mouth on him and cusses more than I do. Wh
en his words elude him, he swings and fights because he can’t articulate what he’s feeling… He gets that from me, I’m sure. But he’s smart. So, so smart. So much smarter than a street kid should be, and that’ll either get him out of the hood or get him killed… You heard our call?” I asked, not sure why they were looking at me like that.

  They looked between each other.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You forgot to disconnect the Bluetooth from your iPod to the headphones so it didn’t connect to the Bluetooth for your phone so we heard everything,” Draven said.

  Goddamn it.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled.

  Shep looked to Draven, who was sitting at his desk, chin resting on his arms that were folded on his bag, looking at me.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. “What’s that look for? I saw that!”

  I wasn’t imagining things. There was something going on between the two. Usually they couldn’t be in the same room without hurling a rude or derogatory comment at the other.

  “He’s your son?” Dillon asked.

  “What the heck?” Shep hissed, smacking her in the arm so she punched him back, knocking him off her desk.

  “I’ll address the elephant in the room if the rest of ya’ll won’t,” she said. “Mikey, is that your son?”

  I chuckled, sitting on the edge of her desk and patted the spot next to me so Shep joined us. “Yes and no. Does the little shit call me Mom? Yes. I’m the only mother he knows. His biological mother passed away earlier this summer from a drug overdose. She wasn’t in his life though. Mama Jones, his grandmother, refused to let the crackhead around her grandson. She wanted more for De’Von. When his father, my best friend Blue Boy, died, De’Von was all Mama had left of her little boy. When I left, I never got the chance to say goodbye. De’Von resents that but he’s starting to forgive me, I hope.”

  Shep threw his arm over my shoulders and gave me a half-hug. “There’s nothing to forgive you for, Mikey. He’ll get over it.”

  It’s a nice thought, but De’Von is the king of the guilt trip and can hold a grudge unlike any other.

  I rested my head on his shoulder. “In a perfect world. You wouldn’t understand, Misha. When you’ve had everything taken from you, again and again, there comes a point when you just can’t handle it anymore. When that point comes, you attack it and everything else to make sure that it never happens again. You are the only one allowed to take, no one else is. I’ve seen that mentality ruin so many people. It nearly ruined me.”