by B. B. Hamel
“That’s what set him off?”
She nods once, glancing away. “Told me not to talk to my mom that way. Told me I’m ungrateful, I’m a bitch, all that.”
“And he hit you?”
“After I told him to go fuck himself.” She grins a little bit.
I laugh and squeeze her hand again. “Good for you, little rose.”
“Yeah, well, got me punched. My mom freaked and started slapping him and I left, but it didn’t change anything. She’s still pregnant and he’s still…”
“Breathing,” I finish for her.
“Unfortunately.”
“I’m sorry. That’s fucked up on so many levels I can barely follow it all.”
“Yeah, well, welcome to my life. Poor, damaged Lizzie.”
“You’re not damaged,” I say to her seriously. “We’re going in there, facing that dickhead, and then going home. Okay?”
She nods once, face pulling together into a determined expression. “Okay.” She hesitates a second. “And that baby my mom has? I’m going to make sure it has a good life, and Royal never hurts it.”
“I know you will.” I grin at her as she turns and knocks on the door before pushing it open.
Royal’s lying in bed, looking tired but otherwise alive, his face a little red and ruddy, his thick shoulders rising and falling with every breath. Lizzie’s mom is on the chair next to Royal’s bed and looks up with an exhausted smile as we step into the room, but her smile falters when she notices me.
“Honey,” she says, coming up to Lizzie. “I’m so happy you’re here. Right, Royal?”
“Lizzie,” he grunts. “And who did you drag along with you?”
“Mom, Royal, you remember Jonas, right?”
“Hello, Mrs. Andrews,” I say. “Royal, I’m glad you’re still above ground.”
He grunts and chuckles, a pained expression. “No, you’re not. How’s that useless bastard of a stepson doing?”
“Above ground, too,” I say vaguely.
“Why’s he here?” Lizzie’s mom whispers loudly as she steers Lizzie away from me. I lean up against the wall, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold.
“He’s my friend,” Lizzie says loudly. “And he’s standing right there. He can hear you.”
She glances back at me with a little awkward smile before going back to Lizzie. “Honey, Royal had a serious medical situation. I don’t think it’s appropriate to bring…. Non-family.”
“Too bad,” Lizzie says, and turns to Royal. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit,” he says. “But I’m not dead.” Lizzie’s mom steps closer but Royal waves her away. “Let it go, Grace,” he says to her. “Lizzie here’s just expressing her rebellious side.” He looks back at Lizzie. “Still mad about the other night?”
“When you hit me?” she asks, cocking her head. “Yeah, I’m still mad.”
Royal chuckles. I want to go over there and strangle him, finish what nature started, that fucking bastard. He thinks it’s funny that he punched her in the eye? It takes everything I have not to hurt him in that moment.
“Barely touched you,” he says, grimacing a little. “Honestly, Lizzie, keep this up and you’ll turn into your brother.”
“Is that so bad?” she asks.
“Royal, Lizzie, please,” her mom says, looking worried. I can see the wrinkles on her face, starting to show through all the Botox and facelifts she’s had. It’s easy to get surgery, but it’s hard to really hide the truth about yourself. Never understood why people opt for looking like a monster instead of embracing old age.
“It’s okay, mother,” Lizzie says. “I know how Royal can be.”
“How I can be?” He grunts a little bit. “Girl, you got no clue. Your mother’s going to have more babies and you’re off running around with this guy.” He gestures in my direction. “I mean, what’s wrong with you, kid? You need to be at home helping your mom.”
“My mom made her choice,” Lizzie grates. “And I’m not her fucking nanny.”
“Lizzie,” her mother chides her.
Royal chokes out a chuckle. “No, but you’re her daughter. I guess it doesn’t matter, though. Your whole damn family is all about running away. Like your older brother and his father and your damn father, too.”
Lizzie’s eyes go wide and Grace Andrews actually gasps, taking a step back away from Royal. I stand up straight and watch as Lizzie’s hands clench and unclench into fists, and for a second, I’m positive she’s going to hit him.
Instead, she shakes her head. “I’m done with you, Royal,” she says. “I’m done letting you bully me. I’m glad you didn’t die, but I won’t be upset when you finally do.” She turns away and walks to the door.
“You slut,” he grunts after her. “Come home to your mother, don’t follow this fucking thug.”
“Go to hell,” Lizzie says.
“Honey, wait.” Lizzie’s mom follows her, half-hearted and eyes wide.
“You can go to hell too, mom. You’ve taken his side enough now. I know what you really care about.” Lizzie grabs the door and throws it wide, stepping into the hall.
I smile sweetly at Royal. “Nice to see you again,” I say. “Hopefully it’s the last time.”
He grunts at me and looks away. I smile at Lizzie’s mom before following Lizzie out into the hallway. I catch up with her as she makes it to the elevators, practically shaking with rage.
“That asshole,” she says. “I want to kill him, Jonas. I really fucking do.” She steps toward me, her whole body on fire with pure anger.
I pull her into my arms and hug her tight. “I’m proud of you.”
That makes her pause. “Proud? Of that?”
“Absolutely,” I say softly. “You stood up to him.”
“I had a tantrum.”
I shake my head, pulling her away so that I can look her in the eye. “No, Lizzie. Royal’s a bully and he always will be. You realized what he is and you told him to go fuck himself. I’m proud of you.”
She stares back at me and starts crying. Deep, chest-rattling sobs. I pull her tight again and hold her tight, letting her get it all out as the sobs wrack her for a few minutes.
I reflect that I’ve never held a crying girl before like this. I’ve seen women cry, hell, I’ve made them cry. Never wanted to hug one before, though. Never told one I was proud of her. What’s happening to me?
Lizzie finally calms enough to look up at me, a stupid smile on her face. “I probably look insane.”
“Nah,” I say. “It’s a hospital. People cry here all the time.”
She laughs a little bit. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
“Yeah.” I hit the button to call the elevator. The whole way back, I don’t let go of her hand, not once.
18
Lizzie
Jonas makes me breakfast when we get back to the apartment, eggs Benedict and French toast. Well, it’s more like brunch, but that doesn’t matter. He brews a pour-over coffee for me and makes me sit down on the porch to eat and drink.
He leans up against the wall, smoking weed from a vape pen. The food’s good, but I can tell his mind’s elsewhere. “You don’t have to stick around, you know,” I say.
He raises an eyebrow. “I’m not going to leave you along here, little rose.”
“Honestly, I’m okay.” I take another bite of the French toast. “Seriously, if you have work to do at Half Pipe, you should go.”
He hesitates, and I can tell he’s doing some mental arithmetic. “I just need to check in,” he says. “Make sure Ezra didn’t steal anything else.”
“I get it.” I smile at him, gesturing with my fork. “Seriously, you don’t have to stay. You did more than enough already.”
He hesitates. I can see him warring with himself, but honestly, I wish he’d go. I know he’s trying to be good right now and to do right by me, but I just want to be alone. I’m still angry and trying to process what just happened, and Jonas is making me feel guilty by kee
ping him here.
Finally, after a few more minutes of prodding, he relents. “I’ll be back soon, I promise,” he says. “And call me if you need anything.”
“Okay, okay.” I smile at him and practically shove him out the door. “Go away now.”
He nods and heads off. I shut the door behind him and go back out onto the porch, stretching my legs out with a sigh, sipping the coffee and ignoring the rest of the food.
Seeing Royal like that made me figure something. He’s not going to last forever, and at the end of the day, he’s just a man. He has control over my mother, but that’s her choice. She wants that for herself, and I can’t do anything about it. All I can do is live my own life and try to be happy.
I don’t know what makes me happy yet, but I’m starting to figure it out. Sex with Jonas in the morning makes me happy. Holding his hand makes me happy. Riding my bike, working at Half Pipe, laughing with Lane. My little nest on the couch. Having my own damn life.
Being free of the memories that haunt me, even if the ghosts never really go away, just go quiet.
I head inside and take a shower. When I’m done, I feel strangely clean. I’m smiling, and I’m not thinking about my mother, I’m not thinking about Royal. I’m thinking about Half Pipe, my friends there, and Jonas. I’m thinking about everything I have in front of me.
I grab my helmet and pop it on my head. As I’m about to open the door and head out with my bike, the knob turns and Ezra stumbles inside.
I take a step back, staring at his red-rimmed eyes and messy hair. He looks back at me and grunts as he walks into the kitchen. He grabs a soda from the refrigerator, cracks it open, and drinks half of it down in one go, belching when he’s through.
“Uh, hi,” I say, following him. “Where have you been?”
He meets my gaze with a deadpan stare. “Been selling my drugs all night. Gonna lecture me about that?”
I flinch a little bit, surprised by how candid he’s being. “No, I’m not.”
“Good.” He grunts and sips his drink. “I’m fucking exhausted.”
“Are you…?” I don’t know how to say it without pissing him off.
“Am I high?” he supplies. “No, I’m not, but thanks for asking.”
“Ezra, I’m just worried.”
“Don’t be. I sold most of it tonight. I’ll be fine.”
“Really? You’re finishing?”
“Finishing?” He arches an eyebrow. “It’s not that simple, kid.”
“I think it is,” I say. “I mean, you can pay those people back and move on now, right?”
“Not that simple,” he repeats, more sternly this time.
“What about Jonas? And Half Pipe?”
He gestures vaguely, waving them away. “What about them?”
“I think you owe it to him to… I don’t know. Pay him back. Get it together.”
He grunts, shaking his head. “Fuck Jonas. Fuck Half Pipe. I’ve been following in his footsteps for too long now like a little puppy dog. It’s time for me to go on my own, make some real money. The kind of money he’s been keeping from me.”
I stare at him, at the way he’s wired and tired and broken all at once, and I realize that my brother’s truly dead and gone, left that night five years ago and never came back. This new guy is a total stranger to me, and he’s bitter, so bitter. I don’t know how he got here, but I can guess.
Living in Jonas’s shadow probably would do that to anyone. And Ezra never was all that strong to being with, it was just Jonas propping him up, keeping him going.
“So leave,” I say softly.
He blinks and then narrows his eyes. “This is my apartment, kid. You’re here because I’m letting you.”
“No, not here,” I say, shaking my head. “I mean, leave Half Pipe. Get out from under Jonas once and for all.”
He grunts a little bit. “The money’s good.”
“Better selling drugs.”
He watches me for a second, silently calculating. I can see it in his expression. “What did he do to you?” he asks finally. “Give you that good dick people are always talking about?”
I blush and jealousy flares up in me, but I shake it off. “No, asshole,” I say. “But you’re going to drag him down with you, so you might as well go away and drown all alone.”
He grins at me, but it’s vicious. There’s an edge to his voice that reminds me of Royal, and it’s like a dagger in the gut.
“Fuck Jonas. And fuck you if you want to be his little pet.”
I shake my head, slowly releasing a breath. I turn away from him. “Okay, Ezra. Make your choice.”
“Oh right, go running off to him,” Ezra calls out as I walk away. I grab my bike and open the door. “You’re here because I let you be here!” he shouts. “Don’t fucking forget that!”
I let the door shut behind me, shutting out Ezra, and I feel like I’m finally moving on. Royal is behind me, left in a hospital bed. My mother is behind me, chained to Royal’s side. Nathan is behind me, dead and buried. And now Ezra is fading away, just a memory of himself, an image that I built up in my mind after so long, finally revealing itself to be nothing more than a fantasy.
I head outside, into the sunlight. I strap down my helmet, get on my bike, and pedal. I pedal hard into the wind, smiling like a moron, feeling like I’ll never run out of breath, never run out of sun.
19
Jonas
I’m finishing up some paperwork when someone knocks at the door to my office. I hesitate a second, thinking about maybe pretending like I’m not here, but decide against it.
“Yeah?” I call out.
The door pushes open and Lizzie steps inside. She’s breathing deep, still a bit out of breath, skin damp with sweat and hair plastered back like she just went on a long ride. None of that really catches my eye, although she looks goddamn gorgeous, practically glowing. No, what catches my eye is the smile.
“What are you doing right now?” she asks me without any preamble.
“Nothing,” I say, trying not to return that grin. It’s damn infectious. “Got something in mind?”
“Nope.” She sits down in the chair across from my desk with a huff. “But I’m in a good mood. Just rode for like, two hours.”
I laugh a little bit. “It’s hot as hell outside.”
“I know. Kicked my ass.” Her grin just gets bigger. “So what do you think, got something fun to do?”
I purse my lips at her, smiling despite myself. I don’t know where this infectious enthusiasm is coming from, but I really like it. I think it’s a glimpse of the girl she was before her accident, before Royal punched her in the face and forced her to leave the only home she’s ever known. I know that Lizzie’s changed, probably for good, but I think she’s still in there somewhere, just locked down deep. I want to see more of her, or at least as much as Lizzie’s willing to show.
“Okay, little rose,” I say, standing up. “Let’s go have some fun.”
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” She grins bigger, gets up, and follows me from the office.
I plan on taking her to the skate park after some lunch, but we don’t get that far. I have good intentions, I really do, but. When she gives me this look in the hall outside my office, I know I can’t help myself.
That’s all it takes from her, one fucking look. Between that and the way her shirt’s clinging to her gorgeous breasts and her shorts are just short enough to cover that thick ass, I can’t help myself. She bites her lower lip, eyebrows raised, and I grab her hand to pull her back into the grow room.
Fortunately, nobody’s there. I shut the door, lock it from the inside, and shove a bunch of crap off a nearby table before hoisting her up. She wraps her legs around my hips, smiling as she kisses me, and this feels different. It’s the way she seems to be laughing more, smiling more, like she’s not afraid of whatever we have and she’s not going to pretend like she doesn’t want it. I feel the same way too, smiling along with her as I pull
her shirt off and kiss her neck, hands pulling off her bra and teasing her breasts. I laugh along too as I bite her shoulder and she unbuckles my belt and undoes my fly.
It’s like we’re finally accessing that thing that’s been building up between us, or maybe we’re giving in to it. I can’t really tell. All I know is, we’re racing to get undressed first, and I don’t care who wins as she hops down off the table, wiggling her ass to pull her shorts over her hips, grinning the whole time.
I pull her naked skin against mine and kiss her deep. I love the tinge of salty sweat on her lips, and I know I want to taste it all, every inch of her. I get her back up on the table and push her back, kissing down her chest and stomach, lingering for a moment on her belly button before plunging down between her legs. She’s wet already, like I knew she would be. I lick her top to bottom, getting her taste in my mouth as she wraps her fingers in my hair. Her tight little body tenses as I press two fingers inside of her and lick her clit in little circles.
“Oh, shit,” she gasps. “Wait, wait. Can someone come in here?”
I smirk at her and fuck her slowly with my fingers. I love the way she looks at me, mouth open in pleasure, eyes half-glazed and half-intense.
“Maybe,” I say, shrugging.
“Jonas. We can’t do this. If someone walks in…”
“So what?” I smirk and kiss her softly. “But don’t worry. I locked it from the inside. Even if someone tries to come in, they can’t, not until I undo the bolt.”
She sighs, grinning again. “You asshole.” She pulls me against her, sliding my fingers inside her pussy. I kiss her slow and deep, tongue exploring her mouth as I move my fingers in and out, letting her rock her hips along with me.
I pull back and drop down between her legs again, sucking and licking her clit. I’m not done with her, not by a long shot. Her breath’s coming faster as I do my work, sucking and licking, fingers buried inside of her. The little breathy gasps make my cock even harder than it already is, and her fingers in my hair tighten to pull just enough to make me grunt in response.