Under the Influence

by L. B. Simmons

  Juan nods and I lean forward, speaking through gritted teeth. “The rules, my rules, need to be effectively communicated to everyone we do business with and more importantly, to those we may potentially do business with.” My palm burns as it slams flat against the wood of my desk and my voice is emphatic as I state, “You do not fuck with me. You do not fuck with my crew. Or you will pay the consequences.”

  Juan says nothing, but dips his head in understanding. I adjust my tie while attempting to gather my composure and once calm, I rise from my seat and move to stand in front of him. Ignoring the flinch of his muscles, I settle against the desk behind me, crossing my arms over my chest before I continue. “That being said, this will not be your job to complete.”

  His brows furrow in confusion and he opens his mouth to speak, but I quickly silence him with my hand. “The time has also come for the boys’ initiation into the higher levels of this organization. Before they can advance, I need to know that their loyalties lie with me, and only me. So this will be Rat’s kill. We both know the first one tends to be the most challenging. If we find he cannot complete the job, we will need to persuade him, which means we will need to have someone in our pocket to sway his decision. He will have to choose. Watch them die. Or kill for me.”

  Juan’s eyes light up with recognition. “His sister.”

  “Yes. I need you to tag her as soon as we get Jamieson.”

  Another dip of his head as he rises. “On it, Boss.”

  “Thank you, Juan.” I offer him a firm handshake before he turns to leave. Just as his hand curls around the knob, I add, “And keep an eye on Greer. His time is coming soon, and with no family, I need to find the person who means the most to him. It’s the only way I can be certain that his devotion to me and my empire comes before everything and everyone else. And judging by his unusually distracted demeanor as of late, I’m willing to bet it won’t be hard to find that certain special someone.”

  Juan’s eyes meet mine, cruel mischief lining his features as a wicked smile forms. “Yes, sir,” he responds, grinning fully before closing the door behind him.

  I, however, remain perched against my desk, lost in thought as I watch him leave.

  Do I feel guilty that I have to force my allegiances? No. Not at all.

  I rescue them. I nurture them. I teach them.

  And then I force their hand.

  Because once they kill for me, they’re mine. I will always have death by their hand to hold over their head. They will forever remain beholden to me and in return, I offer them absolution.

  Plus if they can’t perform that one simple function, they display nothing but weakness. And if that’s the case, honestly…

  They deserve to fucking die anyway.

  “YOU TWO ARE TOTALLY doing it tonight, you realize that, right?” Cassie’s dark brown eyes are charged with anticipation as she lies on my bed with her head propped up on her elbow. Her burgundy off-the-shoulder Henley falls to the side, revealing a black bra-strap, expertly coordinated with the black tights on her legs.

  “You realize you say that every time we go out, right?”

  She narrows her gaze and I grin, tugging on a light blue Aerosmith tank top and pulling it over my dark blue flares. “What? You do. It’s been weeks of constant speculation regarding which date with Dalton will result in the loss of my virginity.”

  And it has.

  She presses off the bed to sit up, features resolute. “Tonight’s the night. I can feel it. You guys are all over each other every time I see you together, obviously incapable of keeping your hands to yourselves. Plus…” She bends at the waist and searches under my bed before finally rising. Within her grasp is a large chocolate brown and light pink polka dot hat box with a huge light pink bow in the center of the lid.

  Her face breaks into a playful grin. “It’s your birthday.”

  “Cassie…” I draw, stuck somewhere between thanks for her kindness, and wonder at how long that box has been underneath my bed.

  “I brought it up while you were in the shower.”

  I bite my bottom lip to curb my smile, but laughter works its way through my throat. You know you’re truly best friends when you share a brain. Not even your innermost thoughts are safe.

  With my smile breaking free, I take a seat next to her on the bed, graciously accepting the gift. Her eyes widen and her cheeks flush with excitement. “Open it, hooker!”

  More laughter bubbles through my nose, and I slowly remove the lid to dig through the tissue paper until my fingers find what lies at the bottom. Lifting it carefully, my heart catches as I see what must have taken her days to complete.

  A framed collage of hand trimmed pictures in the shape of a heart captures every single one of my favorite moments spent with Cassie over our twelve year friendship.

  The time my mom took us to the zoo when we were eight, smiling widely in front of the orangutan mother and baby, right before bird poop from above landed in her hair. I don’t think I’d ever laughed so hard until that day. A much younger version of ourselves at our very first campout in my backyard, tent and tiny fire in the background as we each bite into homemade s’mores. Chocolate oozes out the sides of our mouths while we’re caught in a candid moment of the giggles. Last year at the science fair, when Cassie almost deafened the entire student body with some whacked out version of a volcano eruption. Toilet cleaner and aluminum foil mixed in a two liter bottle is a small bomb. Not an eruption. Just in case you were wondering.

  Each memory displayed in front of me brings laughter and joy to my eyes, but when I read the inscription lining the bottom of the scrapbook paper below the collage, only tears are yielded.

  I turn to face her, only to see her own eyes brimming with moisture. A modest smile plays on her lips as she states, “Thank you, Spencer. For accepting and loving me, no matter the choices I make. For your willingness to look past the bad and seek out the good. You have a way of making people actually believe they can become what you see in them. It’s a gift you have given to me so many times over the course of our friendship, one which I will never be able to fully repay. I just … well, I wanted to capture all those moments that made a difference in my life and give those to you as a way of thanks for just being you.”

  I set the collage to the side and with both of us a blubbering mess, we lean and wrap our arms around each other tightly. “I love you, Cassie,” I whisper through my tears.

  She sniffles. “Love you, times a million.”

  Giggles fill the air until we’re finally broken apart by a knock at my door. Quickly, we wipe away all evidence of our emotion, only red puffy eyes left behind to give us away.

  Mom pokes her towel-covered head into my room and smiles knowingly as she looks between the two of us. Cassie pops off the bed, her black, patterned tights and Doc covered legs hitting the floor as she tugs the frayed jean shorts down onto her hips. The Henley remains askew as she smiles brightly back at my mother.

  “What a coincidence. I was just on my way out.”

  In typical Cassie fashion, she heads over to the window, unlatching it before pressing it upward. Warm April air rushes my bedroom as she climbs out, but as soon as she’s outside she turns and pokes her head into my room with her index finger pointed in my direction.

  “I expect a call and full report this evening.”

  Her brow rises with stern warning and I stifle another giggle before saluting her in return. “Sir yes sir!”

  She waggles her eyebrows, blows a kiss, then she’s gone.

  I twist to face Mom, who has taken Cassie’s seat on my bed, her pink terrycloth bathrobe still damp from a recent shower.

  With her face still smiling, she states, “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

  Whipping out a small box from behind her back, her grin broadens as she sets it on top of my lap. My gaze falls on the square black box before rising again. I know for a fact we don’t have a lot of extra money and I really hate the idea of her spending anything on me.


  She laughs as she shakes her head. “It’s nothing extravagant. I promise.”

  Relieved, I release a breath and return my attention to the box. Slowly, I pull the white ribbon tying it closed and lift off the top to find a brass, circular object lying at the bottom.

  Reaching my hand inside, I pick it up, noting its weight as it’s extracted. A large letter “J” and a smaller “W” and “L” on either side are engraved in fancy script in the center of an antique brass pocket compass. Somewhat recognizing the initials, tears once again fill my eyes.

  “Is this…”

  She nods. “It was, yes.” She smiles and pushes in the knob at the top, releasing the cover as it flips open to reveal the exquisitely designed face hidden inside. The needle sits in the center of what looks like a copper-colored sun and the circular casing is lined in what looks to be tiny garnets, giving it a sophisticated brilliance. She runs her finger delicately over the glass.

  “It was Jim’s great-grandfather’s and has been passed down throughout the years. It’s over 100 years old.” Her glistening eyes return to mine. “And it’s your first official family heirloom.”

  I hold it tenderly in the palm of my hand and shift it slowly to watch the needle dance with the movement, awed by its beauty. After a few seconds, Mom cups her hand over mine, covering the compass and expertly redirecting my attention back to her.

  “You’re eighteen now, Spencer, and as you begin this exciting new journey, there will be times during your travels when life seems to come at you from every direction possible. It’s very easy to lose your way when trying to discover your own path into adulthood. This…” Her gaze falls to our hands as she lifts hers away to reveal the compass. “Well, if you ever find yourself lost, I hope this can help you find your way as it serves to remind you of the importance of family, of love, of laughter, and most importantly, of second chances.”

  The tears finally escape her eyes. “A second chance is a gift that many, many people long to receive, yet sadly, few are given. Never forget that, sweetie. Be appreciative, return kindness, forgive openly, and love completely. Practice these traits which flourish inside of you because of your second chance, and you’ll always find yourself pointed in the right direction.”

  I nod, unable to speak as I find myself overwhelmed with emotion. I look to the compass in my hand.

  James and Deborah Locke. My saviors as they took me in and gave me a life I never believed possible. And even though I didn’t have nearly enough time with him, held safely inside my grip is the one thing that will forever tie me to my father.

  Warm arms envelop me as tears stream down my face and the scent of apples surrounding us marks what will forever be one of my most treasured memories. With both of my parents.

  The doorbell rings and my heart seizes momentarily with the sound. My mother’s laughter fills my ears as she squeezes me one more time before finally releasing her arms, wiping her cheeks as she rises from the bed.

  “Happy birthday, Spencer. I love you more than you will ever know.”

  I smile and run my fingers underneath my eyes. “I love you too, Mom.”

  She gives me a wink and turns on her heel, announcing over her shoulder. “I’ll grab the door. You grab a jacket.”

  My gaze falls to my tank top and I chuckle as she closes the door behind her. Following her footsteps, I make my way to the closet and grab my favorite vintage army jacket, shrugging it on as I exit my room. As soon as my feet hit the hall, I slow, the familiar response to seeing Dalton stalling my movement and warming my cheeks. My teeth rake across my bottom lip as I tuck a loose strand of my tousled blonde hair behind my ear, sighing internally as he grins back at me.

  As always, his shaggy blond hair is covered by a Yankees baseball cap, which matches the blue thermal stretching across his chest. My eyes fall to his jeans, my absolute favorite of his, worn and frayed along the bottoms as they cover the tops of his booted feet. I breathe in deeply as the familiar sweet smell that always accompanies his presence blankets me with his approach.

  “Happy birthday, beautiful.”

  His light blue eyes crinkle at the sides as he offers me a genuine smile, reminding me of how at ease he seems to be these days. No longer do I feel the burn of anger that has afflicted him for so long. It’s long since been replaced by soothing warmth that now exudes from within him. My Dalton as he was meant to be.

  My mouth kicks up at the corners as he leans and brushes his lips lightly against my cheek before pressing them against my forehead. My body shivers involuntarily and I feel his smile against my skin before he rises to address my mother, who watches us with a cup of coffee in her hand and a goofy grin on her face.

  “I’ll have her back by ten, Ms. Locke.”

  She shakes her head. “No need. It’s Friday night, she’s eighteen, and most importantly, I trust you implicitly with the safety of my daughter.”

  Dalton’s cheeks flush at her admission, prompting a light chuckle from my mother as she strides to us and presses up on her toes. After giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek, she does the same to me. I curb my laughter as Dalton’s face reddens even more but allow my smile to break free as I watch her leave the room.

  Just as the bedroom door shuts behind her, I glance up at Dalton’s blush. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”

  His brows rise along with the corner of his mouth. “Cute?”

  I nod my answer just before he hooks his thumbs through my belt loops and pulls me into him, lowering his face and crushing his mouth against mine. His tongue parts my lips and I willingly concede, giving him the access he seeks. My legs weaken and I sink into him as he tenderly explores my mouth, sweeping deeply before caressing my tongue with his own. I inhale him, enjoying the soft touch of his fingers as they work their way under my tank top to sweep lightly along the skin of my lower back. Goosebumps rise in their wake, prompting his grin against my lips.

  Finishing the kiss with a quick peck, he presses his forehead against mine. “How’s that for cute?”

  My breathing is heavy as I state, “That wasn’t cute. That was sexy. Do it again.” My lips curve into a playful smile.

  He chuckles under his breath, placing a quick peck on my cheek before stepping away and stating, “Later, Pencil.”

  He laces his fingers with mine and leads me to the door with an easy grin on his face while I give him my best pout in return. It doesn’t last long because mere seconds after we’re shut into his Camaro, my mouth betrays me, forming an eager grin. “Where are we going?”

  He shrugs playfully, reaching down and turning on the radio as he revs his engine. “It’s a surprise.”

  As he backs out of my driveway, Stevie Nick’s rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s Crystal filters through the speakers. After shifting into drive, Dalton reaches across the console to take my hand and I smile as the chorus hits my ears. No song could be more perfect than this one to describe the way I feel. The magnetic pull which draws me to him, fueled by my innate need for this very feeling—the narcotic sensation of pure tranquility when he finally unleashes his love, creating a torrential downpour as it crashes down and drowns out everything except for us.

  I’m hopelessly addicted, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Giddiness floods me and my grin grows wide as we pick up speed with the windows down. Hand-in-hand, the breeze tugs my hair in every direction as he drives. His fingers tighten their grip and I turn to face him, my breath seizing at the magnificence of his candid smile. My mind wanders to how different he is now.

  No longer is his reaction harsh and cold.

  No longer is his demeanor nervous and reserved.

  His carefully guarded walls have disintegrated, and the sight of my Dalton completely uninhibited is nothing short of breathtaking.

  He notices my thoughtful gaze and lifts my hand, pressing his lips to my skin. I can do nothing other than lean my head against my headrest, helplessly enthralled in his beauty.

&nb
sp; In fact, my eyes are unable to leave him until about twenty minutes later when we turn into a secluded field. Only then do I survey the meadow in front of us. Wildflowers of every color scattered as far as my eyes can see. Purples, pinks, and yellows cover the ground in front of me and with the coral and blush sky tinted by the setting sun, the scene is picturesque.

  “Dalton, it’s beautiful,” I whisper, lost in admiration.

  He chuckles under his breath before leaning to press his mouth against my temple. His eyes are warm as they survey my face. “It’s nothing compared to my view.”

  I try to fight my reaction, but I’m helpless against it a heated flush creeps across my cheeks. His lips jerk upward and he shakes his head. After leaning to touch his lips tenderly against mine, he disengages the kiss then opens his door. Ridiculous grin still on my face, I step out onto the ground and close my eyes, inhaling deeply the floral scent of the wildflowers that surrounds us. I listen to his movements, and it’s not until I hear the trunk shut that I finally open my eyes.

  Oversized picnic basket in one hand, he tosses a huge blanket over his shoulder before making his way to where I stand. He offers me the crook of his elbow and I loop my arm around his, nestling into his shoulder as we begin to walk. Together, we tread to the top of the hill in front of us only for me to stop suddenly at its crest.

  My eyes land on a huge tree resting at the bottom, its trunk and branches illuminated by the twinkle of white lights as they dance and sway in the breeze. Peeling my gaze away, I glance sideways, met with yet another dazzling smile. I break into one of my own as I shake my head in disbelief.

  “How did you…”

  He tsks in response. “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

  A giggle escapes me before I glance back to the tree, smiling coyly and gesture with an open hand.

  “What is this sorcery you weave? There are no outlets in nature.”

  He breaks into laughter and takes a step forward, continuing our trek as he pulls me along with him. “Batteries.”