Power & Choice

by Lucy Smoke

  "Harlow." Bellamy's strong, clear voice rang from the doorway. I looked up and he came in the room. "Go ahead and get up slowly," he instructed. I glanced down at Margarie, worried that she would try to make a break for it, but as I did as Bellamy ordered, she remained laid out on the floor.

  Bellamy sat her up and put her arms behind her back. He pulled handcuffs out of his back pocket and then snapped them into place on her wrists. Texas stood in the doorway as well when I looked up again. I swallowed thickly.

  "Where's Marv?" I asked.

  "He and Bell caught the guy trying to escape. He's holding him downstairs," Texas answered. He looked at Margarie as Bellamy led her out of the room and down the hall.

  "Margarie?" came the shocked sound of Mr. Wallace's voice as Bellamy helped his last remaining daughter down the stairs in handcuffs. "No, Margarie. No."

  I wondered if all parents were as blind to their children as Mr. Wallace had been. I missed my mom more now than ever, more than anything. Things were so confusing. She was the only one who really knew about my feelings for the guys, though I hadn't told her about the other things – the kisses and now...more. I needed to tell her. Maybe she would have a solution out of this mess.

  I watched Bellamy's retreating back as Texas and I made our way to the edge of the stairs. Just below, at the front doors, stood Marv and a man in dark clothing with his hands cuffed at the small of his back.

  "Harlow?" Texas looked at me expectantly. "Ready?" He held out his hand.

  I wasn't ready. At least, I didn't feel ready. Not at all. Because I felt that things were about to change, and I wasn't sure if they were for the better or not. Yet I found myself reaching back to Texas' hand anyway; like it didn't matter if the change was coming, it would come whether I fought it or not.

  Chapter 18

  Watching Margarie and her cohort as they were cuffed and led to the back of a squad car was surreal, almost like an out of body experience. I felt like I was a voyeur watching on the sidelines, except, I had been part of that. I had helped bring the girl from the dance club bathroom to justice.

  The man that Margarie had been working with was just an average guy she had picked up and paid to unclothe the girls and take incriminating pictures of them. According to Margarie, there had been others and none of the girls had ever actually been raped – something I hoped the girl from the dance club bathroom would soon find out wherever she was.

  Marv assured me that he would inform all of the families that had been interviewed and their daughters would be informed as well. Whoever the girl was, he told me she would know. Even knowing the truth though, I hoped she understood that even if something had happened to her, it wouldn’t have made her any less of a person. She wasn’t weaker because of what had or hadn’t happened; she was stronger for walking through the flames and coming out on the other side of all that pain and anguish.

  From the camera I had retrieved, the cops had been able to pull prints from Margarie as well as a few other of the guys Margarie had paid to work with her. I didn't like thinking about the images that might have been saved on the object.

  Natalia was, thankfully, going to make a full recovery. Isador was at her side later that night and their parents, within a few hours, were touching down at the local airport. Apparently, they hadn’t been very far at all, despite not having been able to make their daughters pseudo-cotillion debut. Mr. and Mrs. Sevilla were both beautiful people, tall and dark skinned. They were regal and angry, their concern for their daughter as obvious as the love that shone in their eyes when they visited her hospital room. Natalia hardly remembered a thing and when I had finally managed to convince the guys to let me visit, she had told me that she only remembered hearing my voice when she was really scared. Mr. and Mrs. Sevilla had thanked me profusely and offered me more money than I would have ever known what to do with. It didn't feel right for me to take it.

  Delilah was waiting outside of the hospital when I exited with Knix and Marv behind me. "Harley!" she called. I turned towards her and Knix put a hand on my shoulder.

  "We'll be waiting in the car when you're done," he said. I nodded, and they walked away.

  "Hey," Delilah said as she approached. Her eyes trailed after Knix and Marv. She sniffed and wiped her cheek. It was then that I realized that – like me – she was still dressed in last night's clothes. The early morning sunshine rose on the horizon and she shivered as she closed her hands over her bare arms. "What happened?" she asked.

  I sighed. "Natalia was attacked. I walked in and stopped it. The guys were there – they chased the guy and caught him." I wasn't quite sure if I should reveal what I knew about Mr. Wallace's daughter.

  Delilah's eyes were dull, haunted. She took a breath, dragging her gaze directly to mine. "It was Margarie, wasn't it?" she asked.

  I tilted my head to the side. "Why do you say that?"

  Delilah sighed, looking at her feet. I looked too. Neither of us were wearing our heels. It almost made me laugh, but I didn't. Delilah swallowed. "I-I pushed Kayla to see the guy," she admitted quietly. I waited and seconds later there was a tell-tale sniff as tears tracked down her face. "We were friends and she loved him so much. I told her to just go for it. Margarie knew. When Kayla...when she died...Margarie told me that I was the one that had really killed her."

  It struck me like a freight train. The her Margarie had been talking about wasn't Kayla or Ms. Enders. It was Delilah. Delilah was openly crying now; gushing tears ran down her reddened face. “I never meant for it to happen,” she said between gasps. “Kayla was in love with him. I thought he loved her too.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” I said, stepping forward and putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You have to know that. None of this was.”

  “You don’t understand,” Delilah sobbed. “She was right – Margarie was right. He – the guy that Kayla…” she sniffed hard. “I didn’t know that he was using her. She was my friend. I should’ve been looking out for her. I–”

  “You can’t make decisions for other people,” I cut her off.

  Delilah’s eyes widened. She looked up at me and I could see it, the hope there in the depths of her deep, pain-filled eyes. I glanced over my shoulder at the waiting car. All of the guys were there. They had returned one of the two cars and now we were going to ride to the airport in the one remaining. A part of me wanted to rush this conversation with Delilah, but I knew I needed to pay attention and be detailed. Not everyone understood this fact as well as I did, but because of my days with my mom, I knew especially well that Delilah couldn’t hold herself responsible for the choices of both Kayla and Margarie. I turned back to her.

  “It doesn’t matter that you were there,” I said slowly. “It doesn’t matter what you said or what you could have said or done differently.” I reached for her hands and held them in mine. “You are not responsible for the choices that other people make, Delilah.” I squeezed her fingers. “There is – absolutely – no way you should feel responsible for Margarie or for Kayla. What they chose to do, yea, I get that it hurts. Maybe you could have done something to stop it–” I shrugged, and her shoulders tensed. “But that’s not up to you.” I looked at her and urged her to understand me. “Everyone has power over their own choices and not anyone else’s.”

  She sniffed hard once more and then nodded. “Thank you,” she said. When I let her hands go, she reached up and wiped her fingers under her eyes once more, catching the lingering smudges of her mascara. “I think I needed to hear that.”

  “I’m glad I could help.” I slowly released a breath and stepped back. “Well, I should get going.”

  Delilah raised her head and glanced over my shoulder. A small smile stretched her lips. “Knix isn’t your cousin, is he?” she asked.

  I blinked and glanced behind me. The guys were still in the car. All of the windows were tinted and rolled up. I turned back to her. “Um…”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “He kinda told me.”

&
nbsp; “He did?” I asked, shocked. That wasn’t like Knix. Actually, that was the exact opposite of like Knix. I narrowed my gaze on her and she quickly raised her hands, palms up.

  “It’s not like that,” she said quickly. I didn’t know what she meant, but I kept my gaze narrowed. “He didn’t tell me in so many words. Last night, though, I thought he offered to escort me because he was into me, you know and well...it was obvious that he wasn’t. When he ran off, he kinda dumped me on some of the girls from the camp and said he had to go check on you. When we talked that night, too, it was all about you.”

  I blushed fiercely, and my eyes widened. “What?”

  “I think he’s in love with you,” she said.

  “No, you’re wrong. He’s not. He can’t be.” I shook my head. It was impossible. We had only known each other for a little over a month. I mean, yea, we had practically spent 24/7 together since we met, and we were living together, and he had seen me when I didn’t have any makeup on and when my face was puffy from crying over my mom, and he had told me about his mom and his dad, but that didn’t mean he loved me...did it?

  “And that other guy, the big one?” Delilah rubbed her arms and looked at me expectantly.

  “Bellamy?” I hesitated to say the name, but she had just finished talking about Knix, the only other ‘big’ guy I could think of would be Bellamy. Texas was more wiry than big, and Marv was slender and lithe.

  She nodded. “Yea, he was out here earlier when I was waiting for you. He recognized me from the party.” She gave me a dry chuckle as she looked down at her dress. “Probably an intelligent guess,” she said. “But uh...yea...we were talking too…” I sucked in a breath and she bit her lip, trying not to smile at me.

  “Don’t say it,” I begged.

  “Okay,” she said.

  I squinted at her. “Really?”

  She nodded, but it seemed too easy. She sighed. “I’ve learned my lesson,” she said. “I’m done meddling. It’s gotten me into too much trouble.”

  “That wasn’t your fault,” I reminded her.

  “I know,” she said, looking back at her feet. Her hands squeezed her upper arms until her knuckles and the skin under her fingertips turned white. “I do think you have a lot of guys that care a lot about you, though,” she said. “I wish you luck with that.”

  “Thanks,” I said with a sigh. I smiled and gave her a light hug before she turned and went into the hospital. I would need all the luck I could get.

  When I got to the car, Texas got out of the back and let me in. I squeezed past him and sat in the middle of the backseat. Knix was in the driver’s seat, Marv in the front passenger, and Bellamy on my other side. In that moment, I wanted so badly to scream the truth. When Bellamy smiled at me, I almost cried. When Knix glanced at me through the rearview mirror the urge only grew and when Marv looked over his shoulder, it almost broke through.

  Texas’ warm side on mine was relaxing and he leaned over and whispered something in my ear that surprised me. I looked at him. “Are you sure?” I asked.

  He nodded. “When we get back,” he said. “They’ll handle the rest of things with the job.” Texas motioned to the others. I was too tired to argue, and I wasn’t exactly against his request, so I sat back and buckled up as Knix started the car. I couldn’t wait to be home with Cleo and I couldn’t wait to see my mom.

  Chapter 19

  Harlow?” I blinked and glanced over at Texas. He looked at me expectantly as if he had been calling my name for a while.

  “Sorry,” I muttered. “Wasn’t paying attention.”

  “You sure that’s all it is?” he asked.

  “Why?” I asked, trying to tamp down my panic. There was no way he could know. He didn’t. Absolutely not. Right?

  “You just seem out of sorts,” he replied. “You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.”

  “No,” I said. “I do.” I reached across the console of the car and put one hand on his arm. “I’m really glad you asked. I’m excited about meeting them – your grandparents.”

  He snorted. “They’re not much for conversation nowadays.” I grimaced and even he blanched. “Sorry, that was a bad joke, but it’s fine if you don’t want to come today. Just because you want to meet them doesn’t mean we have to do it today. I can turn the car around.”

  “No!” He jumped slightly at my raised voice and I quickly lowered it. “I mean, no, I’m fine. Really. Look we’re already there anyway. This is it, right? Happy Hollow Cemetery?”

  He nodded as he pulled between the wide iron gates. When Texas had first asked if I wanted to visit his grandparents’ graves with him, I hadn’t been so sure. It seemed private, something you only took family with you to do, but he had stood there almost nervously, shifting from foot to foot. I couldn’t say no. Right then, he still looked nervous, but in that excited school boy way.

  Texas parked the car in a small gravel lot near a plain square building with an equally plain sign hanging out front that read Caretaker’s Cabin. As if it came naturally to him, Texas took my hand as we exited the car and tugged me towards a dirt path that led through what looked like the entirety of the cemetery. My guess was proven correct once we started walking.

  Whoever lived in the caretaker’s cabin and actually ran the place was obviously skilled and cared about their work. Each gravestone was neatly cleaned and if loved ones had visited recently, there were flowers laid pleasantly along the top of each, all similar to the ones clutched in my free hand as we walked. I felt that it wasn’t right to visit Texas’ grandparents without bringing something. Flowers at a cemetery seemed to be right.

  Texas clutched my hand tighter as we turned down a path that became less dirt and more grass and rocks and hill. He had to help me over a few larger rocks as we went further and further up. I looked behind me and realized that we had actually nearly left the cemetery entirely. We must have been at the top most hill. I could see all the way down to the caretaker’s cabin and even where the SUV was left parked on the gravel lot.

  “What are we doing up here?”

  I hadn’t realized I had asked the question aloud until Texas answered. “They’re not the most social of people,” he said with a smirk, turning me around. I realized we were standing in front of two equally beautiful, but small, stone graves. There was a marble outline on the shiny faces of both and two etched names:

  Ellen Johnson

  Mother, Grandmother, and Beloved Wife

  Trevor Johnson

  Father, Grandfather, and Beloved Husband

  “They actually died together,” Texas admitted in a small voice. My heart clutched in my chest. I couldn’t look at him just yet, so I stepped forward and set the flowers gently in the space between both stones. “They were driving back from date night. They always had date night, every week on the same night ever since they got married.” I swallowed hard, staying bent over. I wrapped my arms around my knees.

  Texas joined me on the ground in front of his grandparents. He waited for a moment before finally, as though the flood gates opened, it poured from him. “They took me in when my parents left. They weren’t really parents at all and when I did finally end up with my grandparents, I was a little rough around the edges.” I glanced at him as he threw me an embarrassed smile.

  “I was almost fifteen by the time I got dumped on their doorstep. My parents weren’t ever really there to begin with and I kinda did the whole juvie thing before I – well, before I met the people who cared about me. When I got out of juvie and realized they weren’t coming to pick me up, I kinda just felt lost. I was too old to get adopted, not that anyone would want a kid with a record. I’m really thankful that my grandparents gave me a place – they had been begging my mom – she was their daughter after all – to come see them for years. But she got caught up with my dad and…”

  Texas paused and his whole demeanor was stiff as he faced forward, thinking of his dad, I guessed. “My dad,” he tried again, “wasn’t the nicest o
f people.” My stomach clenched and my throat dried. Living little fire ants crawled under my skin – they weren’t actually there. It was just anger. I looked at Texas and I saw someone, my friend, someone that had helped me when I most needed it and I knew exactly what he was saying. His dad had been abusive. I didn’t know if he meant towards his mom or towards him – but it didn’t matter to me. If the man had been there right then, I would have punched him in the face for putting that kind of pain in my friend.

  I leaned over and slid a hand down his arm until I reached his hand. When I did, he let me tangle my fingers with his. I wanted to tell him it was okay and that whatever he said would be in the past and that nothing could touch him, but the words stuck in my throat. I think he understood though, because in the next moment Texas released a deep, pent up breath of relief and sagged against the ground. My cheek touched his shoulder and I blinked watery eyes at the gray stones in front of us.

  “I lived with them for three years before I moved in with Knix and Bell. A year later, they died. We were on a job – I don’t even remember what we were doing, and Alex called us and Knix just told me to pack my stuff and head back. I was so mad. I thought, ‘this is it, they’re kicking me out. They don’t want me.’ Then I got back, and Alex sat me down and explained what happened and…”

  Wind blew across my shoulders, lifting the strands of my hair. They danced in front of my face for several moments until I shoved them back with cold fingers.

  “I cried,” Texas admitted with reddened cheeks. He looked like he would again, his eyes were shiny. So were mine, if I was being honest. “I hadn’t cried since I was a kid and got beat up for the first time.” His jaw worked, and he ducked his head.

  We sat there like that for, I didn’t know how long. It was special, though. That much I knew. He hadn’t brought Bellamy or Marv or even Knix – all of whom I knew he trusted and loved. They were his family. He had brought me. It meant that he trusted me too. That maybe...just maybe the door to Iris was opening a little bit wider, but more importantly the door to the guys – my guys – was widening too.