by L. J. Woods
Settling back into the floor, there’s peace. Serenity.
Then everything goes black.
Five
Gabriel
“Hammer?”
A smack to my face pulls me out of the dark abyss of my nightmare.
“Gabe?”
Shit. I know that voice.
Turning my head to the right, Mariam’s looking at me with a fresh face of makeup on. Pink lips. Pink cheeks. But I know she’s far from an angel despite what her golden hair and doll-like features make you think. She’s a leech. And she’s in my bed.
“Hey, it’s time to get up. First day back at Saint Angels, right?” Her hand comes to my chest and I push it off, an earthquake in my head. Any memories beyond the burgers we had last night are nonexistent.
Shit …
My eyes widen before I look under the covers to see the same clothes I had on yesterday still in place. White tee and jeans. Mariam found one of my collared shirts reserved for church, her body swimming in it. With a groan, I rise out of bed, my stomach’s in knots. Legs and arms feel like they’ve been through a grinder. “What are you doing here, Mariam?”
She sits up, thick eyebrows furrowing. “When I came in, you were on the floor. Asleep. Adam and Milo just left you li—”
“Jet lag.” Cutting her off, I turn around, a blanket of hot crap on my skin. Sounds like a hell of a party. Sounds like I needed it. “Go home. Get ready for school.”
Beige pants and a white shirt hang off my closet door. Behind it hangs a red sweater with the SAA logo to the side, embroidered in gold. While I hate this town, I hate this school more. What the fuck kind of college makes their students wear uniforms? Unfortunately for me, it’s my only ticket out of this mess. Freedom hangs on the other side of this school year and if I make it through, everything will be better.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
“You aren’t jetlagged, are you?”
“Go home, Mariam.” Walking into the stone and marble bathroom, I wince, light shining in through floor-to-ceiling windows. This open bathroom overlooking the lake never did anything for my hangovers.
Mariam storms towards the bathroom and it already feels like things are back to how they were before. Hell. She crosses her arms, her hair perfect on her head. “When are you going to get your stuff together, Gabe?” she asks. “Really? After all this, you went right back to where you start—”
Sliding the white door closed gets the noise to stop.
The judgment.
The guilt.
The shame.
This is gonna be a hell of a year. There’s a knock on the door before I lock it. She’s not getting the picture. “I did all this stuff for you and this is how you treat me? This isn’t God’s way Gabriel.”
“Go! Away!” My fist slams into the door, not that I want to hurt her, I just need her to lay off. She only did that shit so I can repay her the same way my parents want me to repay them. Being who I’m not. I only get a few moments of silence before there’s a familiar tap on the door.
“Hammer?” A stern, deep voice comes through.
“Dad?” I groan.
“Come for breakfast, please.”
“In a—”
“Now.”
My head hits the back of the door, grip tight around the edges before the lightbulb hits. Reaching under the sink, I move my hand around for that little baggie taped to the underside. When I don’t feel it, I look underneath to find it empty. “Fuck!” My fist goes through the mirror. The part with the TV. Only a day back in Clementine and I don’t know if I can make it through.
A shard of the mirror sticks out of my knuckle. Pulling it out, the pain isn’t enough to take this feeling away.
After a long shower, I throw my hoodie on top of my uniform, buttoning the shirt all the way so my tats on my neck and chest stay hidden. It’s one of my parents’ requests added to their growing list. It’s never enough, no matter how long it is.
The sunlight damn near kills me when I get into the bright kitchen. Mariam sits next to my mom on one of the green velvet and gold stools in front of the marble island. She’s laughing, glass mug in her hand like she’s already part of this family. Dad sits at the end, talking about his last outing with Conway East. That’s the famous rapper with the infamous sex tape gone Christian.
My eyes settle on the coffee pot. Dragging my feet over, I’m trying to tune everyone out but my mom doesn’t let me. “Disgusting!” Her shrieking voice makes me want to push my fist through another mirror. “Unacceptable! What kind of children are we raising in this town? You’d think with the church and the academy, this stuff wouldn’t be happening in Clementine!” With a loud sigh, she changes the topic. “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming in a day early, Hammer?”
“Sorry.” That’s all I can muster.
I know what you’re thinking. “Your parents call you Hammer?” But it’s not the same reason the guys call me that.
I give a firm nod, just as Dad taught me but his attention isn’t on me for long before he’s back to Mariam. “Don’t worry, Mariam. Whoever is in that video will get their consequences. God is not pleased.”
“What about whoever took the video?” she asks as I pray this caffeine gives me the energy I need to make it through the day. Through this breakfast. My parents act like I want to be here, pancakes and fruit on the table like we’re a functioning family. We’re not. Not to me anyway. “It looks like it was at the church, right?”
My eyes narrow at my dad as his jaw clenches. He looks good for his age like his powerful stature keeps the wrinkles away. He’s chiselled, in his late forties, with the style of a businessman in Gentlemen’s Weekly. His eyes narrow as if something Mariam’s saying hits a nerve. But I’d be mad if I found out people were fucking in my church too. Pulling his mug to his lips he glares at Mariam, Mariam looking down at her food. “Let’s pray it’s not.”
Once I sit down at the island, my parents start us in grace. Pentacatholics don’t just say grace. They say a five-minute story before food can even touch our mouths. Knowing this will take some time, especially with news of that video, I pull out my phone so I can shit on the guys for their carelessness last night. But there’s already a text waiting.
Adam: Heard from Delilah?
My thumbs freeze above my screen, nausea building before it all comes flooding back.
The flames.
The fire.
Delilah.
“Delilah Daniels is back.” Dad’s voice breaks me out of my panic, the pang in my head getting louder as I slip the phone back in the pocket. When I look up, everyone’s eyes are on me, like they’re waiting for me to say something. Instead, I take another sip of coffee, grabbing a pancake from the stack and slapping it on my plate.
“Just as our store catches fire.” My mom sits up in her seat, bringing the cup to her red-painted lips. She’s a classic beauty. Thin. Shiny brown locks and a mole above a wide grin that hides lies, secrets, and pain. She might be less miserable if she hadn’t fallen for my dad. “We can cover it but it’s no surprise. I swear that girl is the devil. The evil seductress her mother named her after. She doesn’t belong here.”
“You think she did it?” Mariam asks. “On purpose?”
My mom leans in like she’s telling a big secret, my dad’s phone already to his face. “It wouldn’t surprise me. She comes from a broken home.”
Shaking my head, I push the pancake through some syrup before reaching for an ear-pod in my pocket.
Pushing it in my ear, the beat hardly drops before my mom interrupts. “Do you have something to say, Gabriel?”
“She wouldn’t do that,” I respond, my voice tired and croaky. She did. But she wouldn’t do it on purpose. “You’re full of shit.”
“Gabriel Genesis Godfrey!” My father slams his phone on the table, making Mariam flinch. “That language will not be tolerated here, do you understand?” His voice booms over the choir playing in the background and I�
�m way too fucking hungover for this shit.
“I’m going to get my uniform then I’ll meet you out front.” Mariam pushes away from the table. “Can I be excused?” She heads for the door after my dad nods.
I’m done with this too. I haven’t had an appetite in months and this morning is no different. But the minute my stool scratches against the floor, my mom clears her throat before my dad gives another command. “Sit.”
“I gotta—”
“Gabriel,” my mom sighs. “Please, listen to your father.”
It’s not even nine in the morning and they’re already ganging up on me. So I do. Like the fucking dog they wish they had. The sound of the front door closing rings into the room before my dad checks, leaning around so he can see the path to the front door. “If you want to keep a girl like that, you need to smarten up, Son.”
Here it comes. The welcome-back lecture.
“Do I get my card back so I can buy her an apology?” And a re-stock from Adam.
“Trust needs to be re-earned, Gabriel,” Dad responds, pushing fingers through a thick head of grey hair. “Not until you regain our trust. So remember, no drugs or it’s back to rehab. No skipping school or it’s back to rehab. No lies, or it’s—”
“Back to rehab,” I finish. “No spot on the team, I get it.”
He nods. “I can have a bouquet sent to her in time for her class. Speaking of trust, why didn’t you tell us you were home a day early?”
I shrug.
“Were you with the Daniels girl?” he asks.
“No.”
Looking up at my mom, her faint crow’s feet soften. “That family is no good,” she says, dropping her fork in her plate. “Especially after what happened with Elijah. God bless her grandmother but please, stay away, Gabriel. You’re behind a year but you can still make it up.” That gut punch in my stomach gets tighter and it threatens to spew all over the table so I grab hold of the glass of water, taking slow sips to calm my nausea.
“They’ll be scouts around this season,” Dad reminds me. “You don’t want to mess this up. You’re on the best junior hockey team this side of the country. No scandals. No drama. You hear me?”
“Yes sir,” I respond like a fucking military robot. It appeases them, the both of them relaxing some more.
The Daniels family is the best thing that ever happened to me but there’s no doubt.
No one really knows what happened that night except me and another person and that other person is dead.
I need to stay focused if I’m going to make it out of this town and besides killing it this hockey season, there’s only one thing I need to do.
Stay far away from Delilah Daniels.
Six
Delilah
“Harlot!”
Sammy’s shoulder pushes into mine as a girl walks by in uniform.
“Nope, I can’t do this,” Sammy says, turning around.
“Yes! You can,” I reassure her. With an arm out, I pinch the soft knit of her red sweater. It stops her from getting any further across the very green lawn. “Don’t let them walk over you.” Ever.
“Let her leave!” The girl calls from the top of the steps and this is starting to feel more like a high school than a private college. I can hardly see the other side of the growing campus, construction off to one side. I almost got lost when the girls took me through the stone-pathed quad. “She’ll be cast out anyway!”
I chop my crotch at her, telling her to “suck it” and that gets me a confused stare, her mouth wide open. Hazel sighs, slapping my arm. After she picked me up this morning, all Sammy could talk about was how she didn’t want to go to class because of the video. I told her they’d forget about it, it’s college after all. People fuck. So what? But I was wrong. She got comments all the way here.
“I didn’t even want to take that video,” Sammy groans. She won’t say who’s in it. According to rumours, it’s someone older. She wants to protect his identity but so much for protecting hers. “And now everyone hates me for it. Guys, I can’t. I’m going to class. The long way.” Pulling away from my hold, she takes off behind us, plaid skirt catching the late-summer breeze.
When I turn around to call after her, one of the guys from last night beckons her. Adam. The sunlight catches his long wavy hair. When the breeze blows a strand in his face, he shakes it off like a model, foot pressed into the tree trunk. His red blazer hanging over his shoulder only completes this douchey picture. We’ve met a couple of times. British royalty in the sense that his dad owns one of the biggest media companies in the world.
He says something in Sammy’s ear before Sammy looks up with widened eyes.
“Oh my gosh,” Hazel whispers. “It’s happening.”
“What’s happening?” I whisper back, though I’m not sure why.
“He’s casting her out.”
Right. This whole “god” thing.
Sammy looks around before she tries to say something else but he snaps his finger, pointing away like she’s a dog. Her shoulders slumped, she heads for a building on the far end.
That’s when I almost drop my board.
“Woah,” Hazel says.
Gabe approaches Adam, black duffel bag over his shoulder, hockey sticks in his hands and last night comes rolling back.
That kiss.
Those lips.
The way my knees almost buckled. The way the entire universe swallowed me whole. Kissing Gabriel was everything I ever thought it would be. More.
And he’s not getting away with it.
“Gabriel looks great!” Hazel swoons.
And goddamnit, he totally does. Minus the bags under his eyes. The muscles popping through his white-collared shirt remind me Godfrey isn’t a boy anymore. No. He looks like a fucking god. The god Hazel tells me he is. But I slap her arm anyway.
“Ow! What?” she asks, rubbing her hand along her skinny forearm. “You were the one with your tongue down his throat, not me.”
“He had his tongue down mine.” My grip tightens on the metal truck of my board as I fight the twist on my insides. I hate that he still has this effect on me. Even after what he did. Was that kiss an apology? Did he think he could make this all go away? That fire builds inside and before I know it, his name barks out my mouth, “Godfrey!”
He’s about to walk away before he stops, his back straightening. My eyes narrow, glaring at the back of his head, a silky fade that shows off the handiwork of a professional. One only a rich prick can afford.
“Gabriel!” I call again.
Adam looks back, those fox eyes moving from me to Hazel. He taps Gabe, throwing a thumb our way but Gabe keeps going.
Slamming my board on the smooth stone makes me quicker than my short legs. “Hey!” Rolling along the path, I follow them all the way to the side of a red-bricked building. A line of boys in uniform greets them, one I recognize from last night. The smell of grass mixes with the scent of flowers as my Chucks make their way across the pristine lawn. There’s something else still lingering on my nose. Tobacco and cinnamon. The same scent from the store. The same scent from that kiss.
I’m halfway to them when finally, Gabe’s eyes hit mine.
Dark.
Deadly.
A shock runs down my spine as Gabe straightens up, my heart pounding as I get closer. That chiselled jaw works and I’m about to speak before he growls, “Go away, Delilah.”
I’m almost too stunned to respond. Almost. “The fuck?” Dropping my board on the grass, I fold my arms. “Dude, we gotta talk.”
“No. We don’t.”
Tobacco and cinnamon fill my nose again except this time, there’s a hint of expensive cologne. It’s an intoxicating smell. One that sends a pang right to my core.
“Delilah, go,” Gabe repeats, his eyes moving behind me. “The both of you.”
Looking over my shoulder, Hazel tugs on her long ponytail. “Okay,” she’s quick to turn and walk away but I’m not that obedient.
“No. Not a
fter what happened. Not after last night. What the fuck was that?” Staring into those eyes, I’m noticing how tired they look. How distant he is.
He takes a step forward. My heart thuds. Keeping a foot between us, he lowers his mouth to my ear, his voice deep and growling. Harder than I remember but it stirs my insides all the same. “You’re gonna want to do what I say, Daniels.”
“Gentlemen!” A man in a suit swings a whistle around his arm as he walks to the boys. There’s a younger boy behind him hauling a cart filled with hockey gear and jerseys. “Welcome back to the team! Especially you, Godfrey.” He points his whistle at Gabe. “There will be no slowing down this year, but God is on our side. Amen?”
Gabe smirks before he barks in my face, “Amen!” It makes me jump, his voice loud over the others. When I look to my right, twenty guys stand lined up in front of me. Some with their eyes on my outfit.
I’m not in a prissy little skirt. Fuck that. Grandma had a pair of beige slacks in her closet that matched the school colours. It’s a little baggy but this stupid blouse looks better tied at the front with it. Hazel warned me it’s not to code, but like, whatever. What the fuck do I care? I’m only here for one reason and he’s standing right in front of me.
“Don’t fuck with me Delilah,” Gabe spits through gritted teeth.
The coach continues, “Yes, this is a Pentacatholic school but there will be drug tests. We want to ensure no scouts of ours are going astray. That includes cannabis. It’s legal but like alcohol, it is not of God.”
“The fuck happened to you?” I’m searching his eyes for the boy I know but he’s long gone. That’s when I realize how big his pupils are.
“I swear to God, Delilah,” he growls. My eyes drop to his fist, knuckles white on his olive skin.
I don’t back down, narrowing my eyes right into his. “What’re you gonna do, Gabe?” I shoot him a smirk. “Kill me?”
“And who might this be?” When I turn to my right, Coach towers over me with the mouth of a muppet.