by J. M. Miller
He recoiled a bit and wrinkled his nose. “Please don’t tell me you’re considering it. It’s stupid to take that risk.”
I glanced around the room, avoiding his eyes.
“I’ll go with you then, to make sure you’re okay.”
“No way,” I replied.
“Why? You worried about me?” he asked, gripping my back again and pulling my body closer. His hand coasted down to my lower back, pressing firmly before moving farther down to cup the curve of my butt.
“Maybe I am,” I replied, digging my fingers into his waist.
His face moved closer, touching the tip of his nose to mine. “Good. So we agree it’s not a good idea for either of us.”
He didn’t wait for a response. His lips covered mine, kissing me until the conversation disappeared.
Damian’s fingers released my hands and he started working the ties at my wrists again. As much as I wanted to celebrate the connection we’d made, we still had to deal with Seth.
“Do you still think he’ll leave when he finds the keys?”
“I want to say yes because I don’t want to believe he’ll take this any further, but when I think about the fact that he hit you … I guess I don’t know what he’s capable of anymore.” He hooked one of my fingers for a moment then returned to the material, digging in harder. His body tensed. “I can’t find this fucking knot.”
The pain inside my head had lessened to a dull ache, but it was still difficult to concentrate. I looked out the windows into the dark stagnant night. The bay was vacant and this house sat alone. The only person who could know where we were was Tanner. But even then …
“I’m not sure Tanner will figure it out. I mean, it had been a year since I’d talked to him. He might blow the whole thing off.” I was beginning to question everything. Maybe things had changed in the year we hadn’t talked. Maybe I’d read our phone conversation all wrong.
“You were supposed to check in with him, right?” he asked and I nodded. “I bet he’s giving you more time, but I wonder how long he’ll wait to hear from you before texting or calling. After you don’t respond directly, I’m sure he’ll know something’s up.”
“I hope so. I’m just not feeling confident about anything at the moment. We have to get out of here.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, wrenching our arms. “Maybe we can try to loosen the tie to the railing. It’ll give us more space to work at least. Do you think you can try to stand?”
I nodded and we slid our legs in. Leaning back to support our weight, we inched up and positioned our feet beneath us. It was awkward with our ankles bound together, but we managed to get into a crouched position.
Damian stretched his arms, testing the limitations of the material. “I might be able to break the banister if—”
“Not going to happen,” Seth said in a lazy voice from the hallway to the office. His shoulder pressed against the wall and keys dangled from his extended hand. “Look what I finally found. They still have Mom’s organizational OCD written all over them with these stupid color coded dots. Lucky me.” He twirled the keychain around his finger and pushed off the wall.
The banister vibrated near my wrists with a quick, gentle rhythm. It took me a moment to realize it was Damian, tapping his fingers. He was nervous, and the uncertainty of this situation had me feeling the same way.
“That looks uncomfortable,” Seth said, pointing at our crouched position as he sauntered to the kitchen. He grabbed the bottle and glass he’d left on the island and poured another drink, not bothering to add ice.
“So glad you found the keys. Now leave,” Damian said as Seth tilted his head to toss back a second shot.
Seth slammed down the glass and pressed his hands onto the island, pushing his elbows out like a bowlegged bulldog. “I have the keys, sure, but there’s something else I still need.”
“There’s nothing else you need.” Damian’s body jerked so hard beside me, I almost lost my balance.
Seth laughed and stepped away from the island. As he took a few steps toward us, his fingers jingled the keys. “Do you think I was completely oblivious while we were growing up and all the years I worked at the shop after? The safe’s combo is changed regularly. Spill it.”
“It’s your birthday,” Damian replied.
Seth strode over to us fast, nothing hampering his steps, as though he hadn’t had one sip of alcohol. He tightened his fist, cocked back, and rammed it into Damian’s stomach. “Sit the fuck down,” he screamed, his face red.
Damian doubled over, his elbows pulling at mine, bending me forward with him. I let my feet slide out with his, taking our bodies slowly back to the floor.
“You’re full of shit,” Seth said, his body turning a circle with his fists clenched and pinned at his sides.
Damian winced a little with his head still tipped down. “I’m not lying.”
“Yes, you are. You just think I’m going to head over there with the wrong combo like an ass. Maybe I should take Syn with me just in case?” He leaned down and grabbed my foot.
I bucked my legs, attempting to dodge his grasp, but he held tight, pinning my foot to the floor.
“I’m telling you the truth.” Damian looked up with a scowl. “It’s been the combo for a while. Mom and Dad never hated you, despite all the shit you’ve done. You were always the one they rooted for.”
“Now I know you’re lying.” He released my foot and turned toward the windows.
“They basically worshipped the ground you walked on, wanted me to be exactly like you, and were pissed when I chose music over football. You might not remember that part since you were busy dropping out of college. They weren’t thrilled you dropped, but they sure were happy to have you back at the shop. Then you even fucked that up by wallowing in self-pity and killing any opportunity that wasn’t related to football. You got hurt and couldn’t play. Any other person would move on, but you just couldn’t let it go. So instead of manning up, you stole from them. Despite it all, they still loved you. They did everything for you, and I’m sure they would’ve handed the shop to you if you had gotten clean.”
Seth was silent for a few moments. His back and shoulders rose and fell with heavy breaths as he stared through the glass, out into the dead night. Then he paced a few steps, back and forth, contemplating his next move. “The combo better be right.” His voice was a whisper until he turned to face us again. Without warning, he yanked my knife from his pocket and lurched to me, pushing the edge of the blade to my throat.
Damian’s whole body shook beside me as the blade’s tip pressed against my skin. “I swear to God, Seth, if you—”
“If I what? Hurt her? If I …” The blade trailed down my neck, over my collarbone, stopping at the ridge of my tank top, flicking the soft skin at the top of my breasts. “Touch her?” Seth cocked an eyebrow up at me, leaned in, and laid his free hand on my thigh. Slowly, his fingers crept up my jeans, squeezing handfuls of my leg along the way.
I spat at his face. “Fuck you.”
He chuckled as he wiped the spit with the back of his arm. “Maybe later.” His eyes swept over to Damian. “Especially if the combo isn’t right. Right now, though, I’ll just tighten this up. So you guys get cozy, ‘cause you aren’t going anywhere.”
“The money won’t get you far enough away from me, Seth.” Damian’s voice was rough, raw with all the anger from the night and all the years of their lives.
“More threats, huh?” Seth tightened the material that attached us to the banister. “Fair enough. With it being winterizing season, I’m sure there’s a decent amount in there, but you’re right: it won’t be nearly as much as I want. I have other options. The first already landed me some quick cash.” After yanking the material to double-check his knots, he stepped back out in front of us and rubbed a hand over a cocky smirk. “DJ shit is pretty valuable. Records … decks …”
I looked over at Damian, but his eyes told me he was just as confused by Seth’s words.
; “Even old ass headphones with little knife decals.”
The words sank in and I gasped. That was my stuff. He had sold my equipment, which meant he was the one who had broken into my apartment. “You?”
“Oh, I love that look on your face.”
“You broke into my place and stole my stuff?” I couldn’t believe it. Questions whirled. How did he know where I lived? And how long had he known?
“What the hell did you do?” Damian asked.
“I made sure Syn would come here tonight.”
“What? What the hell are you talking about? She didn’t even know this was my place.”
Seth stared at his fingers as he spun the keys again. “I hadn’t seen Syn for a while, but I’ve seen Tanner around. We have a mutual friend who has a way of finding houses.”
“You dished my house out?” Damian’s body jolted and his arms and legs bucked. “You mother fucker.”
“You planned this whole thing? You stole my stuff so I’d take this job?” I still couldn’t believe it all. Why go through all the trouble to get me here? If it was revenge for what had happened years before, wasn’t stealing all of my stuff enough?
“I saw you get picked up by the cops the other day, so I knew coming home to your shit being gone would force you to jump on a job like this.”
“And if I hadn’t?” How could he have been so sure I’d choose to do it? It was another life-altering decision that could sever my life again. I hadn’t made the choice easily. I’d sat in my car for an hour before dialing Tanner’s number.
“There was no question.”
“I hadn’t talked to Tanner in a year.”
“Doesn’t matter. From what I’ve seen the past couple weeks, you have no one else. Your mom doesn’t live here anymore. You have no close friends. I knew you’d call him.” Seth moved toward the windows. He was calm, as though everything he was doing, everything he had done, was no big deal. Normal.
“You’ve been watching her? What the fuck!” Damian yelled.
“And you think I don’t put out any effort. What do you think now, D?” Seth spun around and waved an arm into the air. “That all took a little bit of effort. Though I gotta say Syn, ripping through your apartment was more fun than effort. It must have sucked to come home to that, to look around and realize that someone had robbed you of your livelihood. Everything you’d worked hard for, gone.”
I clenched my hands and gritted my teeth, trying to hold tears back. He was digging into my head with every word. He’d set us up: following us, stealing my stuff, getting me to Damian’s. That truth hit harder than all the physical blows from the night.
Damian’s breaths were loud and fast through his nose, his frustration and anger as clear as the sweat beading on his forehead.
“I’m done talking.” Seth stepped lazily toward the kitchen to pour another drink. He downed it and spun the empty glass on the island a few times before walking toward the front door. His body disappeared behind the wall before he called, “The numbers better be right. Me coming back here empty-handed won’t be a good thing, for either of you.”
“It’s too fast. Slow it down a bit,” Damian said, pushing closer behind me at Rewind’s DJ table. His left hand slid down my arm as I pressed my finger to the side of the turntable to slow down the Beastie Boys Licensed to Ill record. “That sounds close. Now set the pitch and cue it to the first beat again.” I started doing as he’d instructed while his hands returned to my waist, spreading his fingers over my hips and clutching tightly. Next, his lips planted light kisses on the back of my neck.
It was distracting. And so hot.
I cued the first kick drum beat by scratching the record back and forth and then let it go, dropping it into the next bar of the house record. Ignoring the “vinyl only” rule he’d set for today, I snuck a glance at the laptop to check the BPMs of each track.
“Stop cheating,” he murmured against my skin. “Don’t make me close the laptop.”
“You’re such a purist,” I said with a chuckle.
“And you should be too, at least to start,” he replied. His hands moved over my stomach. “You have to listen.” One hand slipped under my airy flannel and tank to grab my breast. “You have to feel it.” He nipped the back of my neck as his other hand dipped into waist of my shorts. His fingers traveled lower and tapped beat counts over my panties.
There was no way I could concentrate on anything visual, so I pulled off my headset and closed my eyes, letting his touch takeover. I pressed my head back to his chest, raised my arms, and slid my fingers into his hair to give him complete access. His timing was perfect, tapping out the master beat resonating in my ears, making me ache deep inside. Best music lesson ever.
It was also the first decent amount of time we’d spent together since the boat ride last Sunday. His mom had grounded him for a couple weeks, killing what little spare time he had. He said her lecture at home was about his recent behavior. Lying, taking the boat, dropping grades. What he didn’t mention was what she’d said about me. I knew she had to have said something. I didn’t ask him about it, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going crazy thinking about it. What had she said? Was it so bad that Damian was embarrassed to repeat it? Was she more concerned with my influence on him or my black plague of a reputation? Her son dating the Kane girl probably wouldn’t go over well at the country club.
Damian removed his hands and spun my body around. His lips collided with mine. He’d obviously wanted more time with me too, but that kind of time couldn’t happen here. Customers had been filtering in steadily all morning.
I let my fingers roam under his T-shirt, feeling the soft ridges of his six-pack. Stopping before things got out of hand was what I should have been doing. Instead, I was turning into jelly and whimpering a little into his mouth.
He gripped me tighter, digging his fingertips into my sides. Not even a second later, he backed off. “Ah.” The frustrated word escaped his lips inside a long exhaled breath. “I want you so bad right now.” His body pressed to me again, this time dipping his face into the crook of my neck to kiss it.
“Me too.” I glided my fingers along the back of his neck. “Is there any way you can sneak out later tonight?”
“I could try, but I won’t be able to drive. Mom has me parking in the garage all week so she can hear if it opens.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, stepping to my side. “Ever since Seth’s spring break ended, she hasn’t left me alone.” He slid the fader on the deck all the way over, leaving one track on, then turned down the volume.
“I don’t get it. It’s not like you’re always in trouble. You said they were never this strict with Seth. Is there another reason?” I asked, knowing it had to involve me.
Leaning over the deck, he punched some keys on the laptop, messing with the mixing program. “She just doesn’t want me screwing up my chances for college at the last minute.”
“Really?” I was the one stealing his focus—I knew she felt that way, and deep down I knew she was right.
The buzzer sounded from the office. One of Rewind’s regulars walked through the door and moved straight to the counter.
“I got it,” I said, wanting to give Damian a little space to think. Maybe he’d consider opening up to me more. Not that I really had the right to ask him to. I still couldn’t bring myself to fully open up to him, about the future or the rest of the past.
“Hey, Tre,” I greeted the local DJ as I stepped behind the counter. “What do you need?”
“Hey, Syn. Hook me up with that Grado needle.” His thick finger tapped on the glass above the cartridges. “Learning anything from D up there?” he asked, tipping his chin up toward Damian, who pointed a two-finger greeting from the loft.
I pulled the box out of the case and placed it on the counter in front of his hefty stomach, which was pressing into the corner of the glass. “Beatmatching, without software.”
“Uh-oh. Big time, learning old school,”
he joked with a chuckle that crinkled dark lines around his caramel eyes. “Pretty soon you’ll be opening up shop and stealing all my wedding clients. Unless of course you hit the club scene.”
“I highly doubt all of that,” I replied, watching him pull his wallet from his back pocket.
He slid cash over the counter as I scanned the box and stuffed it inside a bag. “If D’s teaching you, I have no doubt.”
I returned a smile and handed over his change and receipt. “I guess we’ll see.”
“Sure will. Thanks,” he said, holding the bag up and turning toward the door.
I glanced up to the loft where Damian’s face was half hidden behind the laptop. He had taught me a lot and I was grateful for everything, but doubt still clung to my heart. There wasn’t much time left. College was on his horizon, and nothing was on mine. I wasn’t about to stand in his way, regardless of what he chose for the future.
“I expect you to be a beatmatching pro the next time I’m in here,” Tre called, snapping my thoughts back to the present as he pushed open the door.
I nodded with a smile, watching a brown-haired girl slide past his large body to enter the store. She looked my age, her mid-thigh pleated skirt showing off the unseasonable tan on her slim legs and the skin-hugging white T-shirt doing the same for her arms. She was polished in a way that most people who shopped here weren’t. She removed her sunglasses and glanced around. Her eyes stopped on me for a split second but quickly continued up to the loft.
“Damian,” she called, loud enough for him to hear over the loops he was mixing.
He glanced down at her then his eyes shot anxiously over to me.
Not the reaction I’d expected.
After lowering the volume of the base track, he disappeared down the stairs. The girl kept her focus on him the entire time. “Hey, Julia. What’s up?” he asked, stopping in front of her and hooking his thumbs into his front pockets.
Oh, fuck me. That’s Julia? My heart dropped out of my chest.
“I ran into your mom and she told me you got your acceptance letters. Congrats. Have you decided yet?” She scooped her wavy hair over one shoulder and rolled the ends absently with her long fingers.