by Lola Taylor
BECCA’S PLACE HADN’T changed. At least, not to Amy’s memory. Which was a little fuzzy, considering she hadn’t been over in a while. Becca was always tied up with her little brother or work. The girl definitely led a busy life.
Amy walked around the living room and looked around as Becca made them breakfast in the kitchen. A man’s leather jacket lay draped over the top of a chair. Did Becca already have a new boy toy? She hadn’t mentioned it. Then again, Becca changed men the way some girls changed outfits. Sometimes, she went through two or three a day.
Amy continued her casual lope around the living room, coming to a wall stacked with shelves of pictures. Actually, something had changed. There were more pictures.
And, she noted, most of them seemed to be of her.
She stopped to stare. Slowly, her eyes ran over the frames from wall to wall, noting how many were of her.
A chill tingled its way through her, and her muscles tensed. Without really meaning to, she glanced at the door. Was it locked?
It felt silly thinking about running. Becca would have no reason to harm her.
“Here we go!”
Amy jumped and looked behind her, where Becca stood in the kitchen entrance with a tray of cookies and milk.
Becca gave her a weird look and grinned. “Little jumpy there, Ames?” She walked over and placed the tray on the coffee table.
Amy nervously laughed and ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah, I guess.” She frowned. “I don’t think that will ever go away.”
Becca remained silent for a beat. She pressed her lips together, as if thinking about something. Grabbing a cookie and a small glass of milk, she brought it over to Amy. “Here.” She handed the warm, gooey palmful of chocolatey goodness to her. “I know I said I’d make us breakfast, but I changed my mind. I remembered the other day how much you love chocolate chip cookies, so I made a batch. I thought they might cheer you up more than bacon and eggs.”
“Thank you,” Amy said absentmindedly, staring at the cookie as it warmed her hand. “But you hate chocolate chip cookies. You said they’re ‘too fattening.’”
“Yeah.” She shrugged and looked away. “Doesn’t mean I can’t make ’em for you when you come over.” Becca stared at her, seemingly waiting for something.
Smiling tensely, Amy took a bite of the cookie. It was fresh-from-the-oven gooey. “Hmmm…” she said as she chewed. “This is amazing.”
Becca’s shoulders relaxed. “I know, right? Mom left me some kickass recipes.”
Amy nodded and glanced back at the wall. “You don’t seem to have many pictures of your mother,” she said carefully, gesturing with the napkin at the sole picture of her whole family. “I mean, I know you two didn’t exactly get along, but I, well, I thought I remembered you having more pictures.”
Becca shifted her weight as she stared at the picture of her family with an unreadable expression. “I did. My brother broke them.”
“Oh.” Amy bit her lip. She knew Becca carried a lot of anger and resentment over their mother’s neglect and other grievances, but Zach seemed to harbor borderline rage, from what Becca had told her. The kid had problems. “I’m sorry I brought it up. It can’t have been easy, what you guys went through.”
Becca shrugged and steeled her gaze. “Abuse happens to kids every day. It just means we’re part of the statistic.”
Amy’s heart sank. Way to go, Ames. Make her feel like shit. Oh, by the way, Becca, why do you have so many pictures of me? The question burned on her tongue, daring her to ask, but she couldn’t bring herself to needle Becca further. Amy went and picked up another cookie, sensing it would make Becca feel better, and opted to change the subject. “I still can’t wrap my head around the fact Scott was a street fighter and involved with a loan shark.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty wild.” Becca sounded anything but surprised as she came over and sat down on the sofa.
Amy sat down beside her, chewing pensively. “I mean,” she said between chews, “you think you know someone…” She sighed. “I should have known it was too good to be true. I’m never that lucky, and things are never that easy for me, not even falling in love.”
Becca gave her a sympathetic smile and rubbed her arm. “Don’t give up, Amy. Maybe it was never meant to work out with him.”
And that is so not what I want to hear right now. Amy’s jaw tensed, and she leaned forward. As predicted, Becca dropped her hand and sat back.
Amy downed the rest of her milk and set the glass back on the tray. “I have to try to work this out with Scott,” she said with quiet determination. “This is the first time I’ve felt something for someone in years. I think that’s worth fighting for, because it means I’m not as broken as I thought I was. I’m getting stronger.” She looked at Becca and held her gaze. “And I’d like your support on this. But I just want you to know I’m not giving up on him, with or without your consent. I hope you understand.”
“I do understand,” Becca cooed, leaning forward. She brushed the hair away from Amy’s face; Amy flinched. “You want somebody in your life, and you need that. I just don’t want to see you get hurt again. You’ve been through so much.” Becca ran a strand of Amy’s hair through her fingers, letting the ends curl around her fingertips.
Amy scooted away, pulling her hair free as she cleared her throat.
Becca’s hand remained in the air. It clenched before it lowered to her side. Becca closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out. “I think you need to leave Scott.”
Amy shook her head. “He deserves the benefit of the doubt. He’s never tried to hurt me.”
“Yet!” Becca shot out of her seat. “Look at the company he keeps! Did you see that girl? Did you not hear what she said? Scott is bad news, Ames. He’s only trying to lure you in so he can have his way with you, land you in a hot mess with that loan shark, and then ditch you.”
“I’m not giving up on him!” Amy yelled back, standing.
“Amy, did you ever stop to consider that this isn’t about you giving up on him as much as it’s about you not wanting to be alone?”
Amy blinked. “What?”
Becca sighed in exasperation and threw her hands up. “You were always so lonely in college. You didn’t have many friends. Actually, I think I might have been your only friend. You always acted like it didn’t bother you, that you couldn’t afford any distractions of any kind. And though you never voiced that loneliness out loud, I could see it in your eyes. I could see the longing when you looked at a group of girls giggling as they went to a party, or the envy that would come over your face when you saw a happy couple holding hands. It tortured you, because you felt like that could never be you.”
Amy felt about an inch tall. Was Becca right? Was she really so desperate for companionship that she’d accept anyone in her life, even if they were toxic for her? “That’s not true,” she said weakly.
“Isn’t it, though?” Becca took a step forward, and then another. Amy stood her ground and stared Becca in the eyes.
“You have too good a heart to let someone rip it out again,” Becca said sadly. “And I won’t let that happen, no matter what.”
Amy held her gaze. “And I appreciate that.” Her voice was barely audible because her throat had grown so tight. “But it’s not your choice to make.”
A coldness settled in Becca’s eyes, making them seem to darken. Nodding curtly, she turned and picked up the tray. “Get out.”
Amy blinked. “What?”
“I said get out!” Becca snarled. She whirled on her and slung milk onto the wooden floor. “Go, run to your dark prince! Just don’t you dare come crying to me when he uses you up and tosses you aside! Then, maybe you’ll wish you’d listened to me!”
“What’s the matter with you?” Amy’s brows slanted. “Becca, this isn’t like you.”
Becca blinked, as if startled. All the anger drained from her face. “Oh God. I’m sorry, Amy. I didn’t mean it, really. It’s just…” The tray trembled
in her hands.
Amy rushed over and took it from her. “Hey, easy. It’s okay.” She searched Becca’s face. She seemed…frightened. “Is everything all right? You’ve been acting…‘off’ lately.”
“Yeah,” Becca said breathlessly, smiling too widely. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I just haven’t been getting enough sleep because of my job and Zach.”
Amy studied her as her inner lie detector went off. What are you hiding, Becca? “You know you can come to me if something’s wrong,” she said gently.
“Yeah.” Becca’s voice sounded small. “I know. Thanks.” She took the tray back, her hands much steadier this time. “Here, you don’t have to take this. I’m fine, really. Go on. Go to Scott.”
Amy slowly backed toward the door. “You promise you’re okay?”
Becca nodded a few times. “Yeah. Everything’s fine. I’m just stressed. Call me if you need me, okay?”
Amy’s doubt softened, and she smiled. “I will.”
Becca didn’t wait to see her out. She turned and disappeared into the kitchen, at which point Amy saw herself out. As she walked down the sidewalk, she glanced back at the town house. Her gut wasn’t usually wrong about these things. Having a perfectionist for a mother, you learned to tell people’s moods pretty quickly through some sixth sense.
Something was wrong with Becca.
Should she turn around and try to help? Let her sort it out? Then again, maybe everything was fine. She did have a lot of stress. The no-sleeping thing was pretty common knowledge by now. The girl chugged espressos as if they were going to stop making them. Though she tried to hide it with makeup, dark circles forever lurked beneath her bloodshot eyes.
Amy was probably freaking out over nothing. But the touching and all those pictures and the cookies…
Becca’s just trying to make you feel better, she tried to convince herself, without much luck. She’d have to be an idiot to believe that.
Then a thought hit her, and she stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk. Could Becca like her? Like, like her like her? The thought was ludicrous. Not once had Amy ever seen Becca with a woman. She dated regularly, and by dated, she meant screwed around for fun.
Screwed boys.
Nah, she told herself as she kept walking. Becca couldn’t possibly be bisexual. That thought was way out in left field.
And if Amy were totally, one-hundred-percent honest with herself, she’d admit the only reason she thought that was because she didn’t want to think about the alternative.
That her best friend could be in love with her.
Which meant, because she was in no way attracted to girls, that Amy was doomed to lose her best friend.
SCOTT GLANCED BEHIND his shoulder. Good Lord, if he ground his teeth any harder, he’d grind them down to the gums.
They’d gotten off the bus a few minutes ago. Erika had taken off her shoes about two blocks back, after nearly falling. The sudden absence of clacking heels made him nearly dizzy with relief—until he saw she was still padding along silently behind him, like a lost puppy.
“Don’t you have other lives to ruin?” he asked over his shoulder.
She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “Stop it!” she screeched. Her little hands balled up into fists and shook. Her mascara had run, leaving oily trails down her sunken cheeks.
Scott finally whirled around. “Stop what? Telling the truth? Ruining lives is what you do, Erika. You latch onto people and drain them of everything. Money, happiness, sanity.”
“That’s not true.” She trembled.
“Oh? What do you think your ex, Jason, would say about that? Or your sister Rachel, or that poor old couple who tried taking you in, only to have you drain them of their life savings?”
Erika stared at him, mouth hanging open in shock.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Scott said with a bitter smile. “I did some digging into your past, once I finally started listening to my friends’ advice. They said you were a leech. Turns out they were right. Word gets around.”
Fresh tears leaked from her eyes. “I never meant to hurt anyone.”
Scott pursed his lips. His heart had hardened to her a long time ago.
At least, that’s what he told himself as he forced himself to turn around and keep walking. “Save it. I’ve heard it before.”
“That doesn’t make it less true,” she insisted.
He growled a sigh, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “I told you I’ll deal with Ghost, so you don’t have any reason to hang around. Go home, or wherever you came from.”
“I can’t.”
The answer was tiny, but it rang loud in Scott’s ears. He stopped and turned to look at her. “What do you mean ‘you can’t’?”
Erika swallowed and ducked her head as if expecting a scolding. “Ghost told me not to come back until I had the money you owed him, plus what he loaned me to get you out—or when I had you.”
“What?”
“Gh-Ghost said not to—”
“No, I heard you the first time.” Scott pinched the bridge of his nose. This was a disaster, as in, he was royally fucked if he didn’t think of something fast. He knew Ghost. He would make good on his word to hurt Amy should Scott not give him what he wanted and when he wanted it.
Shit.
He paced for a bit, trying to think. “How did you get tangled up with Ghost? The whole purpose of me taking on your debt was so you could get away from him.”
Erika deliberated. “I was free of him. Or, at least, I thought I was. I don’t think anyone is ever truly free of Ghost.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” Scott said darkly. “Go on.”
She took a deep breath. “About a week ago, he found me and coerced me into getting you to come back to the circuit. He needs you to fight for him.”
“Why? Why is he so desperate all of a sudden for money? He’s swimming in the stuff.”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t my place to ask.”
“And you haven’t heard anything?”
“No.”
Odd. If there was one thing you could count on in the underground circuit, it was gossip. Someone had to have some dirt on Ghost, some idea of what these “bad investments” were he’d spoken of back at the inn. If Scott could figure out what was driving him, then maybe he could stop him for good.
And keep him from hurting Amy.
Scott felt restless. He gestured toward the next street. “Let’s talk while we walk. I need to get my car back, in case Amy calls.”
“You mean your girlfriend?” Erika sneered as she fell into place beside him.
“That’s none of your business, got it? You stay the hell away from her.”
Erika glared at the sidewalk, her lips pressed into a firm pout.
Scott inwardly shook his head. How had he not seen how childish she was? Perhaps the old adage was true, that “love really was blind.”
“So, Ghost loaned you the money to get me out,” he said flatly. His pace quickened, mostly from his agitation. “You do realize how incredibly stupid that was? Now I owe him even more money.”
“Hey! Don’t be a dick. I was only trying to help you.”
“You were trying to help yourself,” he growled as they crossed the street over to the next block. Only six more to go. “Admit it—the only reason you wanted to get back with me was so you could have another host to feed off of.”
“That’s not true! I’m doing just fine by myself. I don’t need anyone’s charity.”
Scott shook his head. “No, you’re not fine. You’re still sick, Erika.”
“No, I’m not,” she spat back.
“Erika, look at you.” He stopped. He waved his hand in front of her body. “You’re skin and bones. Your arms are covered in bruises. You look like death warmed over.”
“Well, gee, now I remember how charming you were when you kicked me out and onto the street,” she sneered, a hand on her bony hip.
His chest tightened. “You left me no
choice. I tried helping you. You wouldn’t go to your support groups. You refused to get a mentor. You refused help of any kind, except if it came in a bottle, a syringe, or a cock.”
“Hey, you make me sound like some strung-out whore! Well, I’m not, pal! I’ve had jobs. I’ve worked for my money.”
“Yeah? And how’s that gone? Last time I heard you were broke—again. And you got evicted for avoiding rent—again.”
“I’ve…just had a string of bad luck.”
“Does that bad luck include being caught lifting from the register or hitting up patrons for extra cash on your breaks?”
She blinked. “I’m—how did—?”
“Word gets around,” he said bitterly, walking again. This conversation was starting to drain him.
Her eyes lit up as she trotted beside him. “So you’ve been checking up on me?”
He was silent a minute. “Yes. I guess I have.”
“So you do care about me,” she breathed. “I knew it!” She gave a little squeal. You’d think she was a teenager who’d just had the star quarterback ask her to prom.
He swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “It makes me sad, seeing you like this. You never saw your potential, but I did. You could be so much more than you allow yourself to be.”
Her eyes jerked to his, searching.
She didn’t say another word the rest of the way to his apartment.
“Swanky place.” She looked around as they climbed the stairs.
Bless her heart. If she thought this shithole was swanky, he could only imagine where she’d lived. “It’s all right. Do you have somewhere you can go?”
She shook her head. “No. Ghost told me not to come back without you or the cash, and I was crashing a friend’s.”
“And let me guess: they kicked you out?”
She nodded quietly.
Typical. Scott ran a hand through his hair. It’d be a miracle if he didn’t end up pulling it all out by the time this was all said and done. “I might have an empty apartment you can crash. It’s one of the apartments we keep to show potential tenants, so you can’t stay there long.” He took his key ring out and let himself into his apartment.