by L. J. Woods
Shaking his head he stops me. “I didn’t want you being alone. You’ve been through enough.”
Another weak smile comes on my face as I start the hairdryer. It’s quieter than the ones I’m used to, Christian sitting on the counter beside me.
“So, how you holding up?” he asks, scratching the back of his neck. “Crazy out there?”
I shrug. “It’s a goddamn party.”
“Wouldn’t be Eden if it wasn’t.” Christian scoffs.
“Your folks aren’t here?”
“They already had a meeting scheduled with their lawyers this morning.” Christian’s head falls back against the mirror. “They should be swinging by but I hope they don’t. They can be a bit much.”
The hairdryer starts to do its job. “If they’re anything like the Archibalds, I know what you mean.” I try my best to impersonate Nancy’s taught voice. “Wear this. Come to that. And don’t you dare make me look stupid.”
Christian laughs, putting on a deeper voice than usual. “Win all the games, Christian. That’s how you become a man!”
I snort at his impression. “Is that your dad?”
His cheeks redden. “Sure is. He won’t quit until I go pro like he did.” Christian watches as I move the dryer to another part of his shirt. “They think they can tell us what to do when they’re more lost than we are.”
Christian’s right, but it reminds me of something similar Damien said before. I nod, my attempt at small talk drifting away as the King’s words enter my head again.
Didn’t you?
“You alright?” Christian’s hand comes to my back, his warm touch shaking me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah, it’s … my stomach.”
“Hungry?”
“I don’t think I have an appetite.”
Christian hops off the counter, opening the medicine cabinet. He rattles through. “Maybe there’s something in here for upset stomachs.” He’s trying to be of some help and after what happened back in Sebastien’s office, I’m grateful. “It’s kind of weird going through a dead guy’s … Woah.”
His shirt is almost dry when something hits the floor with a clank. My brows furrow, leaning over to see a golden key fall under the sink. He reaches for it before I ask, “What’s that?” Considering the drawer locked in Sebastien’s office, my eyes zone in on it. Maybe Jesus heard my cries after all.
“Not like we can ask Sebastien.” Christian winces at his morbid joke. “Man, I feel like it still hasn’t registered with everyone that he’s gone. I don’t know how King’s going to come back from this. I know they weren’t close but … oh, here.”Christian sets the key on the counter before he hands me a bottle of pills. I exchange his shirt for it and watch his muscular arms disappear as he throws it on. He smiles in the mirror as I chew on the minty tablet. “Nice, you can hardly tell. Thanks.”
I want to tell him it’s no problem but my mind is elsewhere again. Is this the key to the drawer in the office? The office where Damien just dropped that huge bombshell? The one I can’t ignore? “Do you think I killed him?” The question slips out.
“Woah, what?” Christian stops buttoning his shirt to look up at me, tears already blurring my vision. Taking a deep breath, I try to hold it in but it comes out as a choke. “Killed who?” Christian’s arm is on my shoulders, his spicy cologne filling my nose. “Sebastien? Jo, that’s crazy. Hey …”
I’m wrapped in his arms as I let a tear flow onto his bare chest. I can hear his heart beating, quickening as I settle into his hold. I feel like I want to hide in here forever but he tilts my chin up, his green gaze meeting mine. “Do you think you killed Sebastien?”
“I … ” I look down at his chest but he tilts my chin up again. “I don’t fucking know. I mean, obviously not, but could I have?”
He reaches for the fluffy towel, dabbing under my eyes, his palm on one side of my cheek. I feel like a scared, fucked up little girl and I hate that I feel weak.
“Jo, I don’t know what went on that morning, or what caused all that to happen but I know Sebastien King better than you ever did and,” he pauses, glancing away. Does he know the way he treated Damien? “I know you didn’t kill him. You wouldn’t do that. That’s insane.”
Looking up I meet his eyes, he folds his lips like he’s stopping himself from saying anything else. I’m not stupid, I know seeing me with Damien gets under his skin. I know that’s why things got weird between us. But right now, I need to know that I’m wanted. Cared for. Because after what Damien said to me, I don’t know what to think.
Christian takes my hands in his. They’re warm, a little rougher than Damien’s. Taking a step back his eyes bounce around my face. My cheeks feel puffy and red, my hair and makeup a mess, but he’s looking at me like a new car. “Jo, I—”
BANG!
“What the fuck are you doing, Perez?” Damien’s voice is a boom. An angry boom. And if I know Damien, he’s about to raise hell.
Four
Damien is an angry, royal mess.
He has what looks like a fresh bottle of whiskey in his hand, leaning against the door.
“Cleaning up my mess?” he asks, blazer falling off revealing a hard, muscular shoulder. “You were always one for my sloppy seconds.”
Christian pipes up, his hands out. “King, chill, we were just—”
“About to fuck the school slut in my dead dad’s bathroom?”
Shithead.
Christian takes a step forward, shirt still open. “Dude, I said chill out.”
“And I told the whore to leave!” Damien pushes off the doorframe. He’s about to get in my face, that fire in my stomach.
Christian pushes against his chest, sending him stumbling back, coming between us. “I get that you’re upset, but dude …”
“Get the fuck out of my way, Perez!” Christian doesn’t budge and Damien scoffs, “Yeah? Why am I not surprised you’re giving up on me for some stretched out pussy?”
I don’t realize I’m gripping to the counter until my nail cracks. “Fuck you, Damien!” I spit.
“You did. Remember?” He looks around his friend, glaring at me with those stone-like eyes. “In my car. Around the school. Hell, you said it, even in the dead man’s bed. Did you want to fuck him too? Was that your original plan?”
“Shit,” Isaac’s voice comes from behind him and when Damien turns around, I realize there’s a crowd at the bedroom door.
The two men Marion spoke to earlier stand at the front of the crowd, their brows low, arms folded. Other men around them look similar, some with red cheeks, others whispering to each other. The girls Damien came with stand beside Isaac, a bunch of people in fancy attire standing behind them.
“Okay! Allez!” Marion’s voice comes from behind the crowd. “Let us all return downstairs for refreshments. Damien is … coping.” She looks over her shoulder with a glare as starts leading the crowd away, murmurs filling the space.
“King?” Lea pushes through, her face turning red when she sees me between them. “Come on, let’s finish getting you cleaned up.”
“Oh, and Jo?” Isaac looks at me, a hand on his poofed out coils. “You should go, baby.”
“Yeah,” I say, grabbing the key from the counter as I pull my jacket tighter around me. “I get that.” Walking by the boys, I meet Damien’s manic-like eyes on the way out. When our gazes lock it still sends a wave of electricity through me, his eyes softening for a second. I’m angry but I wish this would all disappear so we can go back to the way things were before.
The crowd’s whispers grow.
“That’s the girl.”
“Isn’t she with the Archibalds?”
“That’s what happens when you’re poor.”
Damien and Christian are right. The adults here are no better than their kids.
“Jo?” Allie’s voice comes through next, purple hair pushing through the small crowd. Her eyes bounce between us. “What the fuck?”
Giving Lea a nudge I bolt out of the
re before anyone can say another word. When I get to Allie, I grab her arm, leading her out of the room. “Damien happened.”
* * *
I’m still stunned.
Still in awe.
“If we didn’t think Sebastien’s death would fuck King up more than he already is, we’d be lying to ourselves.” Allie’s being honest as she adjusts the frames on her nose, but she’s right.
“Didn’t think King could get any more twisted,” Nate says, his words muffled as he munches on a slice of pizza. “I hear he was pretty fucked up when they found him.”
We finally made it to Emilio’s but my appetite is still MIA and this conversation isn’t helping. A large cheese pie sits in front of us, a pitcher of beer next to it. My sunken cheek pushes into my palm, elbow on the table, stomach still in knots. Willow took one for the team and stayed back with the Archibalds and I owe her one. Nancy’s losing trust in our agreement to show up prim and proper for their engagements which puts our home at risk. We can’t afford that.
I’m so much more confused than I was this morning. So much more exhausted. I’d say I’m heartbroken but I’m too stubborn to admit that. Having my eyes on Damien was a slip on my path, a dead-end detour. I’m aware of the key sitting in my jacket pocket and I’m hoping it gives me answers. Or is that a dead-end too?
“You gonna be okay, Scandal?” Nate nudges me under the brown table with his knee.
No. “Mhm,” I mutter instead, taking another gulp of beer. At least this is heavy enough to keep the hunger at bay.
“Don’t mind my idiot brother,” Allie says, resting her head on my shoulder in our booth. “He means well but he’ll always ally with the Kings. No matter what.”
Of course. Everyone here has everyone else’s back, but not mine. The words slip out of my mouth, “And your alliance is with your brother.”
“What?” Allie lifts her head off my shoulder and Nate immediately lifts his cup to his mouth, eyes wide, turning away. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Here we go. “Well, for one, you didn’t tell me he’s your brother until I found out on my own.”
“Yeah, and I told you why.” Her eyes search mine, her nose ring shining under the vintage hanging lamp. “Jo, I thought we were cool.”
Fuck. Letting out a sigh I apologize, “Sorry. It’s been a rough day.”
“Yeah, girl,” Nate says. “Tell me about it.”
“Tell you about what?” Christian walks in like he’s on a runway, shrugging his overcoat off his shoulders.
“Speak of a devil,” Allie sits up, making room in our booth. “Can you please tell Jo I’m not out to get her with you?”
“She’s not out to get you with me,” Christian shoots without delay. He smiles, sliding in next to Allie with what looks like a fresh cut under his eye. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t leave it like that back there.”
Sure as hell left me though. “You’re always sorry.” I try not to entertain if Damien was the one to give him that cut. I’m also trying hard not to ask if Damien is okay.
“You can’t ask me to choose sides when King’s dad just died.” Christian pours himself a glass, his words stinging.
“Gee, thanks,” I mutter into my glass, taking another gulp of beer.
“Jo, I’m here for you.” Christian reaches across the table, his warm hand moving on top of mine. “I mean that.”
If only I can believe that.
When I look at him, he’s staring into my eyes as if he’s trying to stamp his words in my mind. Giving him a faint smile, Nate moves the conversation on to Marion’s outfit. I want to believe they’re all here for me, but can I?
* * *
The morning doesn’t bring any more clarity. My head is still a fog, aches making it hard to open my eyes. I got zero sleep, my body and mind both exhausted. And that’s not because Bella slept over in Willow’s room, giggling to reruns of The Fresh Prince all night.
I thought I’d get answers yesterday but all I have are more questions.
Are Damien and I finished?
What is his dad hiding?
Didn’t you?
His words play in my head and no matter how much his voice makes my stomach roll, I can’t get that question out of my mind.
My phone vibrates on the white nightstand, the phone that he got me. I don’t pull the blanket from over my head when I reach for it, my hand slapping against the cold table before I pull it in under the sheets.
Allie: Coffee break? Pick you up in 20!
Before I can answer, Willow opens the door to my room. “Jo?”
My voice is groggy when I respond, a soft croak, “What?”
“Checking if you’re awake.” The mattress dips under her weight and I move the blanket below my nose to see her. She’s already dressed in her uniform before I look at the time on my phone.
Shit. I forgot to set my alarm. It’s already past eight. Sitting up, my eyes narrow to a squint. The light peeking through the curtain is blinding. “Thanks. You okay?”
Her big brown eyes wander my face, cheeks brighter with a touch of blush. She doesn’t need it. Her cheeks are already high and round. They stand out. Not like mine. Slender and pointy. “Yeah but, are you gonna be okay at school today?”
Probably not. “Yeah, Allie’s picking me up, so you and Bella can ride with Henry.”
“Yeah, that’s best,” she says, finding my arm and pulling me up.
“Best?” What does she know?
“Willow! You have to see this!” Bella calls from my sister’s room through our shared ensuite. “Jasper’s QuickToc is hilarious!”
Willow looks at the door before turning back to me. “Ignore everyone today. You’re good at that right?”
I arch an eyebrow, taking a breath as my curls hit the headboard. “That won’t be a problem.” She smiles and before she skips back to her room, I notice a green headband in her hair. It makes me scrunch my nose. “Low,” I call. She turns around, a hand on the doorknob and I hesitate before asking, “It’s still you and me, right? Like always?”
Her shoulders drop as she makes her way back to my bed. She sticks out her pinky and a genuine smile finally graces my face. I link her finger with mine, both of us kissing our thumbs in our most holy gesture. “Always,” she confirms with an extra kiss.
My phone vibrates again and I hug her before taking another look.
Allie: I’m here! With a joint ;)
After pulling on my uniform in record time, it takes twenty minutes before I’m meeting Allie. Climbing into her Mercedes truck, Willow and Bella leave behind us with Henry.
“What’s the occasion?” I ask, settling into the passenger’s seat. Allie’s already sparking up a long joint while I glance in the back. “Where’s Nate?”
“With Carlos.” Allie blows on the end, taking a small puff before she passes it to me. “As for the occasion, it’s your first day back since Sebastien King … y’know. Thought you could use a friend, and some provisions.”
The joint is already to my lips when she finishes her sentence. She smiles as I inhale, opening the sunroof. It’s a chilly fall day but the sun is shining bright, giving a glare to Allie’s lenses. As she turns out of the driveway, she turns on some old Paramore and it’s already doing wonders for my mood.
I’m happy I didn’t turn her off with my comment last night, and this is making this Monday morning all the better. Allie starts belting the words to “Ignorance” and it’s contagious. In seconds we’re bopping our heads, wind taking away our hair and our words as I belt out all my frustrations. It’s only when Allie turns into MOCHA that my words trail off.
“When you said coffee I didn’t think you meant my old workplace,” I groan, the sting of getting fired still fresh in my mind.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid to go in there,” she says, thumb pointed towards the doors.
“I’m not afraid. I’m bitter.”
“Why be bitter when you can be better?” I must be high because I snort a
laugh at her before she opens her door. “C’mon. I’ll order something super complicated that you don’t have to make.”
“Someone still has to make it.”
She waves me off, pulling a purple beanie on her head as I follow her through the white french doors. As we make our way to the marble counter, the smell of coffee fills my nose, classical music coming through the speakers. Staring around the luxurious room makes my stomach clench, my palms clammy. All I can see is Damien. I can even hear his voice in my ear.
I love it when you beg.
“One caramel latte and whatever this stunning human being wants,” Allie orders with a smile. There’s a guy behind the counter with impeccable posture, his nose pointy, a tie around his neck. Looks like Cindy went for the snobbiest barista in Eden to replace me.
“Black,” I say. “Large.”
While he tends to our drinks, Allie babbles about how ridiculous her parents are being about something. While I appreciate the effort, she hardly has my attention. After we get our drinks, she leads me to a small table near the doors, tucked to the side. I’m trying to listen to what she’s saying but my mind is a mess with Damien as the main focus. It feels like yesterday when he was holding me in his arms in this very room, his hard body pressed against me. A surprising comfort.
And now we’re back at zero.
“Jo?” Allie’s settling into a fuschia sofa, patting the seat beside her.
“Sorry,” I wince, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear before I take a seat, crossing my legs on the cushion.
“No, don’t apologize.” Allie rests a hand on my shoulder, scooting in closer. “I know I’m trying to act like this day is all roses but, if you want to talk about it, I’m here for that too.”
There are so many things going on in my head I can’t even pick out what to say first. I’m about to thank Allie for being nothing but awesome this morning when I hear Cindy’s voice coming from the small hallway next to the bar. “Thank you for meeting with me, Marion. We’ll be in touch?”
“Enchante Cindy,” Marion’s voice is next before I see her put on a set of shades and saunter towards the bar. She’s wearing a red dress, a shiny pair of black heels and leather gloves on her hands. Her hair hangs to her shoulders like she got a fresh cut.