All of the Lights

by K. Ryan

  "I figured that was your favorite because you don't seem like someone who would drink something sweet."

  Rae stares at me like a deer caught in headlights as Bennett jerks his head up from behind the refrigerator door with both eyebrows lifted high into his hairline.

  I just lift a shoulder and roll with it. Might as well be honest. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I just mean...a Bloody Mary is an acquired taste, you know? You seem like someone who'd rather have something savory instead of something empty like a margarita or a martini. Someone who'd rather put the work in to have something that will energize you and wake you up instead of make you crash."

  And somewhere in between the lines, I realize the implication of what I've just said. She's an acquired taste. She's something savory. She's worth putting the work in. She energizes and wakes me—you—up. Shit. I hadn't meant to say any of that...it just sort of slipped out.

  Bennett gapes at me for a moment before his gaze slides to Rae, who's staring at me with an unfathomable expression, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. When Bennett snaps his head back to me, that devilish glint is back in full form. He lifts up a half-empty bottle of Clamato and waggles his eyebrows.

  "You're right about all of that, my friend," he shakes the bottle with both hands and his eyes flash with mischief. "Only now, her favorite drink is just good ol' Clamato with just a pinch of celery salt and a dash of Tabasco, sans vodka. Trust me, it's as disgusting as it sounds. Hence the name, Clamato."

  That takes a moment to digest as Rae's cheeks flush pink with embarrassment. When she finally unearths her face from her hands, she looks like she's about to pounce on Bennett like one of those vampires from that shitty movie.

  "I am going to kill you," she growls.

  "Hey!" he throws his hands up in the air, but I'm still trying to figure out the logistics of actually drinking Clamato straight. As a drink. "I know I kid, but I'm really proud of you. Especially now that you found out your mom's a Becky with the good hair."

  "Shut up, Benn."

  "I'm serious," he grins at her and I can actually see it, too—I can see how proud he really is of her. I think I'm right there with him. "You could've sucked down ten bottles of vodka by now, but you haven't. And I know you're not going to either."

  Her chest is heaving even when she dares a glance at me. "I told you I don't drink hard alcohol."

  My lips curl up into a real, supportive grin. "I know."

  "It's my kryptonite."

  "That's okay. Everybody's got something—at least you know what it is and you know how to avoid it."

  Having worked behind the bar at Na Soilse since I turned 18, I've learned alcohol affects everybody in different ways. For some people, it's a stress reliever needed to unwind after a tough day. For others, it helps them forget. Some people like the way it gives them permission to be uninhibited. And for others still, and I'm guessing, for Rae, it's self-medication. Not everybody, her mom included, gets to live to talk about it.

  So now that it's out there, yeah. I was right. And completely wrong about her.

  Bennett takes that opportunity to put the Clamato back in the refrigerator where it belongs and flits around her as he punches something in on his phone. The music changes and I have half a mind to cover my ears.

  "God," I mutter under my breath. "My ears are bleeding."

  Bennett just waggles his eyebrows as he moves around the room, singing along and swinging his shoulders to the beat, and he whips around to point a finger at Rae in a half-crouch.

  "If I didn't have you there would be nothing left," he sings along and it's almost too much for my ears to handle. "A shell of a man who could never be his best..."

  My eyes land on Rae, who's shaking her head with her arms wrapped around herself, but he's chipped the ice away, that little secret-revealing session forgotten between them. I suddenly feel too...I don't know what I feel. Out of place, maybe. Unnecessary sounds a little bit better. With a lack of anything better to do, I slip out of the living room and step onto her little patio under the guise of taking a few pulls on my vape pen. At least that's what I'm telling myself. It doesn't take long, though, before Bennett pushes Rae toward the patio door. My vice grip on my beer bottle tightens as she tip-toes next to me and leans her elbows on the wooden railing.

  "Sorry," she murmurs. "He can be a little much even for me sometimes."

  "Nah, it's not that," I purposefully turn my head to exhale the vapor away from her, but also so I don't really have to look at her just yet. "Just needed some air. How's the knee?"

  Her eyes drop to her knee, which has a faint red tint from where the ice sat on her bare skin, and she shrugs. "It's sore, but what's new? There's gonna be a nasty bruise in the morning, but it'll be fine."

  I don't want to think about how long she's dealt with this injury. I don't want to think about her limping around, gritting her teeth and bearing the pain. Because if I do, I'll start to think about how she got that injury. That someone snuck up behind her on her way back to her dorm from a night class and assaulted her. That someone actually attacked her with a tire iron. And if I think about that, I'll think about how much pain she had to have been in, the shock, the disbelief and numbness, the surgeries she'd endured and the physical therapy she'd suffered through all so she could stand here and shrug about it like she's already accepted this is just something she has to live with.

  All I can do is nod. Grin and bear it, just like her.

  And keep my damn mouth shut.

  "I wish you would've let us come with you yesterday," Rae's voice wraps around me like a warm blanket, but I still shiver a little under the weight of it. "It's not fair that you went to that fight without us."

  She could've stomped her feet, thrown anything she wanted at me, sworn at me, threatened to castrate me, and there was still no way she was getting anywhere near that fight.

  "It wasn't safe," I tell her simply. That's all the explanation she needs.

  "None of this is safe," she crosses her arms over her chest in defiance. "But we're still doing it."

  "And I don't see the point in arguing over something that already happened."

  That doesn't seem to sit well with her because her lips set in a firm line. "Next time you meet with them, Benn and I better be there too."

  "Ah. No."

  "Yes."

  One of my hands starts to work the growing ache between my temples and I set my beer bottle down on the railing to give myself better access. "You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

  Rae just lifts a shoulder. "Tell me something I don't know. Now explain why it's totally fine for you and Brennan to go to that fight, but not Benn and me."

  A heavy sigh works its way through my throat and my thumbs massage my temples a little bit longer before I finally answer. How do I admit that the real reason I didn't want her at that fight, or at the club two nights ago for that matter, is because she was a distraction? Because I spent most of the time worried about her? Because I didn't want her to get close enough to the Gianottis and risk something happening to her again?

  Yeah. The answers to all those questions are simple: I'm not admitting any of that.

  "Because if one of the Gianottis recognized you, our cover would be blown. That's why."

  There. She doesn't really have a leg to stand on. Sometimes, I really wonder about her sanity—you know, the fact that she just doesn't seem to care about her own well-being or the fact that all this fire we're playing with could burn us at a moment's notice. She's reckless and careless in a way that reminds me a little too much of Sean, which by extension, also means she reminds me a little too much of my dad.

  Never one to be put in a corner, Rae finds ground that I figured she wouldn't be able to stand on. Turns out she can stand pretty firm even with a bum knee.

  "Our cover could've easily been blown two nights ago at that club, but I was still there and nothing happened."

  "We got lucky," I shoot back. "Next time, we mi
ght not be so lucky. That's exactly why there won't be a next time. You just have to let me and Brennan handle it—I know you hate that, but you just gotta let it be."

  Even in the moonlight, her eyes flash like furious jades. "You said yourself that nobody goes anywhere without one of us coming along too. You already broke your own rules once, Jack. You could get hurt and I—"

  The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. "So could you. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you."

  And there it is. There's no taking it back now—for either of us. Her eyes widen and her lips part, but she doesn't speak. I don't know what else there is to say because I've already said too much. Felt too much. Wanted too much. She's gotten me to admit just about all I've been able to admit to myself and I can't handle anymore revelations tonight.

  Blowing off steam, my ass.

  It's that exact moment that some movement from inside the apartment catches our attention at the same time. Are we looking for a distraction? Absolutely. And Bennett's served up the perfect one as he dances some kind of sloppy, half-drunk two-step in Rae's living room, sloshing back gulps of wine in between singing, "Don't call my name, don't call my name, Alejandro."

  Laughter bursts through our self-imposed silence and I realize that I'm laughing right along with her. It's a welcome change from all this awkwardness and all this...whatever it is.

  "Ugh," she laughs. "He's impossible to take seriously."

  Of course, she says this right as Bennett belts out, "I'm not your babe, I'm not your babe, Fernando."

  All I can do is just shake my head and grin. He certainly has a way of monopolizing people's attention and in this case, that's a beautiful thing.

  "I already got hurt, you know," Rae tells me with a soft smile and points down to her knee. "That's your fault."

  I point to myself, a grin spreading across my face that I can't stop. "My fault?"

  "Yeah," she laughs. "You were the one who made me jump off that terrace and you were the one who was supposed to catch me."

  "Uh, I'm pretty sure I did catch you. And correct me if I'm wrong, but if we hadn't jumped, we both would've gotten a helluva lot more hurt than you just having a banged-up knee."

  I don't want to talk about the suit who showed up at the mayor's house tonight. There's nothing we can do about it anyway. Like I told her earlier, there's no point in arguing, or worrying, about something that happened already.

  "I guess that's true," she sighs. She winces a little as she shifts some weight to the topic of conversation as if to test it out, thinks better of it, and rebalances back to her other knee. "I think the only way you can make this up to me is if you let me come with you next time."

  I bark out a laugh. "Oh, I see how it is. So you're gonna guilt me into it?"

  "Absolutely," she nods with a sly grin. "If that's what it takes."

  My eyes shoot her a sideways glance and I guess I really shouldn't be surprised at how difficult it is to tell her no. So I relent. Just a little. "I'll think about it."

  That seems to diffuse my predicament for the time being because her lips curve up and she shifts her weight again until I swear I almost feel her hip brush against mine.

  "So, do you think you can beat him?"

  "Hmm?"

  Rae laughs and the sound of it just tugs my brain further underwater. "That fighter you watched last night. Can you beat him?"

  "Are you kidding me?" I scoff. Even the suggestion of Angelo DiMarco getting anywhere close to knocking me out is ridiculous. "The guy's good. I'll give them that. They obviously put some time and money into his training, too, if his footwork is any indication. But he's not better than me and he won't beat me."

  Her eyebrows lift in amusement. "Okay then."

  "I'm serious, Rae," I tell her firmly, but that only makes her bite down on her lip to keep from laughing. "When that fight happens in a few weeks, I bet those pricks will have some serious regrets about me fighting their guy because all their business will still flock to Na Soilse just to see me—the guy who knocked out Angelo DiMarco in their fancy new arena."

  "Okay, okay," she holds her hands up in defense. "Sounds like you've got it all figured out. You're really going to fight then?"

  "Ah," I lift a shoulder nonchalantly. "I think that all depends on what they think they can give me."

  Her eyes darken for just a second and it's possible the moonlight is just playing tricks on me. Any concern for my well-being is wasted, especially coming from her. Besides, the last thing I need to add to the list of things I shouldn't let her do is worry about me. Right at the top of that list? Moving any closer to me on this little patio, which feels really cramped right now.

  "It kinda feels like this is all just the calm before the storm, doesn't it?"

  My eyes flick her way to find her watching me carefully. There are so many questions we can't ask tonight: what happens if nothing is on that flash drive? What happens if everything is on that flash drive? Where do we even start? Where does it even end? What do we do about the way I want to reach out and touch her to see if her skin is as soft as it looks? What do we do about the way she keeps inching closer and closer until it feels like her head is practically on my shoulder?

  The answers to all those questions might easily set off a ticking time bomb, so we're better off handling this with kid gloves.

  "Hey, Jack?"

  Even if I wanted to keep myself from looking at her, it would just be a futile effort anyway. "Yeah?"

  She chews anxiously on her bottom lip, her face twisting a little in concentration, and I have to shove my hands in my pockets to keep them from doing something stupid.

  "I've been doing some thinking," Rae tells me, her voice barely above a whisper. "And I think I want to meet Brennan. Could you help me do that?"

  I blow out a deep breath and let all that settle for a little bit. I'd figured she'd ask me this at some point and I guess, if I were her, I'd want to meet him too. I wouldn't want to have anything to do with Roark Callahan either...I don't know how much I really want to have anything to do with Roark Callahan. But there are already a few snags in any plan we might make tonight and time is the biggest one.

  "Maybe you should think about it a little more, Rae," I sigh. "That's huge—"

  "I know," she interjects softly and for a moment, I think I feel her cheek brush against my shoulder. "And I have been thinking about it. I want to meet my brother, Jack, and you're the only one who can get us in the same room together. Will you help me?"

  She may be right about that, but I also have to figure out how to get them in the same together and figure out how to get Brennan to stay calm long enough to actually hear her out. I have no idea where to even start.

  "If you still feel this way in a week, I'll do it. I promise. I just...I just don't want you to rush into anything, okay?"

  And, I think bitterly, I have a feeling Brennan's not going to be as forgiving as Sean.

  I need more time and I don't want her feelings hurt. But at the end of the day, if she really wanted me to set it up tomorrow, I still don't know if I'd be able to tell her no. As if she can read my thoughts, she smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. It's really too bad because there's nothing quite like that view—shimmering emerald lights radiating back at me...I'd give anything to get a little bit of that light back.

  "Hey," I nudge her with my shoulder to get her to look at me again. "I don't think we've been properly introduced yet. My name is Fred Flintstone," I thrust my hand out to her with a sly wink, "and I bet I can make your bed rock."

  Rae's head falls back and her shoulders shake with laughter as one hand shoots to her mouth while the other shakes my outstretched palm.

  "Oh no," she shakes her head and covers her mouth again to muffle her laughter. "What about this one? Is your name Google? Because you're the answer to everything I've been searching for."

  I mull that one over, tossing my head back and forth before finally shrugging. "Ah. It's alright. I
like this one better: I must be hunting treasure because I'm digging your chest."

  Her nose crinkles up and her lips pull apart in a cute grimace. "Ugh. I hate it. Never repeat that. Ever."

  "So," I waves my hands toward my chest. "What else yah got?"

  "How about this?" she grins. "If I were a cat, I'd spend all nine lives with you."

  "Maybe if your cat wasn't so nuts, I might actually think that one was pretty good."

  She just lifts a shoulder and then rests an elbow on the railing to grin up at me. "I thought you'd come back with something like...as long as I have a face, you'll always have a seat."

  I bark out a laugh and wag a finger at her. "Now that's one I need to remember. I think you're giving me too much credit. Nah—I was thinking something like, did we have a class together? I could've sworn we had chemistry."

  "Aw," she bumps my shoulder and I shift just enough so that my left elbow is just a few inches away from her right. "That one's kinda sweet. How about this? The letter X scares me..."

  I cock an eyebrow, waiting for the rest of the line, but she twirls a finger in the air instead.

  "You're supposed to ask me why."

  "Alright, I'll bite," I laugh. Finally, the light seems to have crept back into her eyes. "Why?"

  Rae just grins. "Because I never want to be yours."

  I scratch at the scruff underneath my chin with a chuckle. "That one's pretty good too. I kinda like this one though—I love all your curves, but your smile is my favorite."

  There's no mistaking it now because her cheek is most definitely pressed up against my shoulder. I don't mind it at all.

  "I like that one," her voice calls out to me. I can't see her eyes now, but that's okay too. "How about this? I'm no organ donor, but I'd be happy to give you my heart."

  A smile works its way up the side of my mouth and before I can stop myself, my neck turns just enough so my chin can brush the top of her head. I let myself inhale—just once—and I wish I hadn't because now I want to do it again. She smells bright and airy like sunshine. Soft and sweet like sugar and caramel. I don't know how it's possible to smell like that all at once, but I give in and inhale one last time.