Fuck! Four o’clock. We should’ve been out of here already. I jumped off the bed, readjusted my clothing—the same clothes I’d worn all day yesterday—and started for my bag. “Where’s L—”
“Loverboy?” he interrupted, singing.
“He’s not my—never mind. That’s him in the shower, right?”
He stood and nodded, walking toward me with a look all too familiar and extremely unsettling. “We’ve got a few minutes to rekindle, sugar. You didn’t give me much play time last night. I’ve missed your sweet p—”
“Don’t, Denver.” My palm met his face, smooshing his nose against my hand and stopping any advances he thought he could get away with. He took the hint with a sly smirk, but we remained a breath’s width apart. “Listen, we appreciate your help, but I’m not here for that. There’s no time for any more fun than we’ve already gotten ourselves into.”
“You make it sound like a bad thing that you had a good time.” He licked his lips, a move that used to make my panties wet, but that gave me the heebeegeebees now. The way he cooed the statement worried me, though. I prayed his idea of a good time was merely related to the drugs and nothing more. “Too much of anything isn’t a good thing, D. We both know that.” My eyes pierced his with a knowing look, but he didn’t flinch. Like all smart dealers who dabbled in the merch, Denver knew about moderation. That’s what kept him in business.
We were at a standoff, our noses inches apart, his hands at his sides but visibly twitching to grope me. Never in the time we’d been together had he forced himself on me, but I also couldn’t remember a time I’d told him no. That realization had to cross his mind as I held my ground, refusing to allow his nearness to concern me.
“You know you’ll be back before you know it, right?” He play-slapped my cheek, his thumb caressing my bottom lip. I should’ve bitten it off, but you don’t bite the hand that feeds you.
“What makes you so sure about that?” I backed away and busied myself in the mirror, combing my fingers through the snarls in my hair.
“Your boy’s got quite the problem. Never predicted number ten would be needing my services.”
That sparked my attention. “You know who he is?”
Denver laughed, making himself comfortable in an arm chair. “Who around here doesn’t, sugar? You’d have to live under a rock not to. I’m not exactly a fan of football, but it’s a sin what happened to him. How’s your prissy sister handling it? Or is she not in the picture, seeing as he’s here with you?”
Bile assaulted my throat at the mention of Eden. She was an innocent bystander in this whole mess and the thought of her name on his lips made me sick to my stomach. “None of this is any of your business.”
Examining his well-kempt nails, Denver crossed his legs and said, “You made it my business last night and you know how involved I am in my business.”
What did we do?
I knew this was a mistake, but it was too late to turn back now. Lennox had packed an extra bag in his duffel for the sole purpose of stocking up on enough painkillers and recreational shit to keep him loaded for God knew how long. He paid his dues—a pretty hefty bill, might I add—but Denver was good at what he did and always followed up with his clients. It was precisely how I wound up back here in this predicament in the first place. He was a good business man, even if there was nothing good about the business he was in.
“THANK YOU,” LENNOX MUMBLED FROM the passenger seat of the Ford he rented to take us and his stash back to Philly. He was nodding off, in an oxy coma, but trying his best to keep me company for the more than fifteen-hour ride.
“Go to sleep, Lennox. I’ve got the radio to keep me occupied.” I cranked it up, tuning to the country station and drowning out my thoughts. Truth was, I didn’t have much to say to him right now. I was sober, my mind hung up on what we’d just done. Lied, committed a crime, and basically sold our souls to the devil.
I signaled left, crossed into the fast lane, and accelerated. Lyrics and melodies swam in my head, and I instinctually hummed the harmony of a song I’d heard a time or two. I was pretty sure I was left alone to contemplate when Lennox’s hand landed on my knee.
“I’m serious, Vi. Thank you.”
His touch surprised me. He’d never been this bold. And even if it was only a friendly pat on the leg, it sparked a fire within me that needed to be extinguished before I went up in flames. I did my best to ignore the heat that traveled from his lingering fingers to the apex of my thighs. “What exactly are you thanking me for, huh? Believe me, that’s not the choice of words you should be using.”
“I could never go to Eden with this. You know what I need, so thank you.” His voice was lulled and groggy, but the sentiment was loud and clear.
I cleared my throat and focused on the stretch of endless highway ahead of me. “You’re welcome.”
He closed his eyes after that, but his hand remained on my thigh. I gazed at him, peaceful and still in the midst of what would surely turn into a shit storm, and placed my own hand over his. My smooth, dainty fingers tunneled between his rough, much larger ones. I savored the feel of my skin grazing against his. I imagined those hands on more delicate parts of my body; those fingers tracing a path up my bare thigh and into my panties. My heart pounded and my breathing became erratic from the erotic fantasy of me and Lennox together. I had to count to ten to calm myself, pay closer attention to the silly lyrics humming through the speakers. I came back down to reality—he did not belong to me—but kept my hand in place over his, unwilling to let go.
We drove that way for a good expanse of miles, the odometer marking the distance, the music measuring the time. It was a lonely drive even though my thoughts crowded me, but I deserved every second of the torment I was going through.
SOMEWHERE IN VIRGINIA, LENNOX WOKE up with a start when his cell phone rang. “Shit! Where are we?”
“West Bumble Fuck,” I answered with a smirk, nodding to his lap. “Better answer that. It’s probably Eden.”
He fingered the phone in his hands, possibly contemplating whether or not to answer it, and then quickly swiped the screen. “Hello.”
We’d come up with more lies in the event Eden asked what either of us were doing, but if we stuck to asking the questions, we could pull this off with no problem. “Oh, nothing much. Just woke up, actually.”
Mindless conversation filled the car as I focused on the road, my grip on the wheel tightening with every notch of softness added to Lennox’s voice. Through all the turmoil, the accident, the irritability, the addiction, the lies, it was obvious that one thing remained of the old Lennox. He loved my sister. He always would.
“How’s it going in New York? The interview’s tomorrow, right?” He nibbled on his nails as he spoke, his leg bouncing up and down. The effects of the pills were probably wearing off. Or maybe his nerves were getting the best of him. Sometimes when you lie, your body reacts, almost rejecting the fabrication. Eden had no way of knowing we weren’t safe and sound back in Rittenhouse Square, but the truth was most likely eating at Lennox. It ate at me enough to feel as if a bomb was about to detonate inside my stomach.
I tuned out their conversation to keep my head on straight, but at the sound of my name, my ears perked. “Yeah, she’s good.” He looked at me. “No, she’s not home right now.” He gave me a tight smile. “Not sure. Probably at work.” His eyes left mine and returned to the view of cars whizzing by through the passenger window.
Guilt was a hard thing to live with. Especially if the act was committed against someone so underserving. I knew when we set out to do this—hell, I knew the first time I helped Lennox get high—that guilt would be a permanent part of me from that day forward. It was now an ingrained trait the same way my physical characteristics were. I had chocolate brown eyes. I had long dark hair. I had gut-twisting guilt. This was me and I either had to deal with it or come clean. And by the looks of the state Lennox was in, the latter wasn’t an option. He needed me to continue this ru
se or he’d lose the last thing that meant anything to him. He wouldn’t survive that at such a vulnerable time. It would ruin him more than the accident did. So even though I could taste the guilt on the tip of my tongue, enough to make my stomach roil in disgust, I had to live with this part of me for Lennox’s sake. Talk about taking one for the team.
When Lennox hung up, his I love you lingering throughout the car—between us—I glanced to my right to take a peek. He was rummaging through the new bag of goodies he’d scored from Denver. Pills rattled inside bottles; bottles knocked together. It was a treasure trove fit for a doped up Peter Pan and his lost boys. He certainly is a lost boy.
“What’s your pleasure?” he asked, fisting a bottle in one hand and a bag of powder in the other.
My eyes ping-ponged between the two, my mouth watering. I thought better of indulging, even though it was killing me not to, but one of us had to get us home or we’d be spending the night in Virginia. Not a good idea. “I’m driving. I can’t.”
Lennox laughed, and tucked the pill bottle back into the bag, mesmerized by the large baggie of coke. “That’s never stopped you before. Come on. There’s enough here to paralyze an entire high school football team.”
Was that his aim? Total annihilation? How would he explain that to Eden? Hiding his habit was getting harder as it became more frequent and more compulsive. It wouldn’t be long before he had to tell her. Or I had to tell to her. Fuck that. She wasn’t stupid. She’d figure this shit out on her own in a matter of days once she got back.
“Lennox, what are we doing?” I finally asked. All this time I hadn’t thought to voice that one simple question.
“What do you mean?” He sounded innocent. Lost. The lost boy.
“What’s the point of all this?” I signaled right, made sure the lane was clear to merge, and slowed down a bit. This conversation surely needed more attention than I was giving it while speeding up I-95 in a race to the finish line.
Shaking his head, the baggie still in his hand, he narrowed his emerald eyes and they seared right through me. “You can’t be serious, Violet. You’ve been in my corner this whole time and now you want to play by some code of ethics? It’s too late for that, don’t you think?”
I blanched at his bluntness and swallowed hard. Sure, I’d crossed the line of all lines by helping Lennox with this plan and introducing him to this world in the first place, but I wasn’t about to let him treat me this way. I did have morals. They were just blurred by all the shit I’d endured in my life. “I don’t deserve that. I’ve done nothing but help you even though we both know how wrong this is. You do still know how wrong this is, Lennox, right? You know what this would do to Eden if she found out?”
By this time, I’d taken the first exit and stopped at a gas station. We needed to fuel up on gas and snacks, and besides, I couldn’t drive and do this at the same time. We needed to talk this out and formulate a plan before we crossed the Pennsylvania state line. I needed to know how to go forward because I was crumbling under the pressure and the shit hadn’t even begun to hit the fan.
“That’s why she can’t find out.” He said it with such conviction. Did he really have this much faith in me? In the lies we told? If so, he was more fucked up than I thought.
I spun around in my seat, and pulled his face to me so our eyes met, and roared. “Listen to me! We can’t keep doing this! We either have to tell her about your problem or you need to go for help. Maybe you can live with breaking her heart, but I can’t.”
I’d never screamed at him like this. Never so much as raised my voice to him. But something had to give. We were in too deep, and more lies would only bury us deeper. It was time for some truth, and the truth usually stung like a bitch.
With his face in my hands, Lennox closed his eyes. He didn’t respond to my lecture. I couldn’t even tell if he was breathing. But when he opened his eyes, full of tearful grief and despair, it was all over for me.
My sister was the only light in my world. My best friend, my mother figure, my savior. I loved her more than I knew a heart could love, but when Lennox cried, his tears dripping onto my hands as they cradled his face, I knew he needed me more than Eden ever could. I loved him, too. In a crazy, fucked up way, of course. But when you loved someone this way—irrationally—you’d do absolutely anything for them.
I was as lost and fucked up as Lennox, and my only hope was that together we could find ourselves in this mess.
Past
EDEN WAS DUE HOME TOMORROW. Things had gone swimmingly, if you considered Lennox raiding his stockpile of fun every hour on the hour the definition of swimmingly.
I didn’t partake, even when asked. I needed to keep a clear head because God knew my head was so jumbled right now it was a miracle I was still breathing. I was there for moral support, a shoulder to cry on, a handy helper, cleaning after the mess of clothes and food he left behind. It was all I could do. I kept reminding myself that I created this monster and now I had to love the monster for who he was. A junkie.
Lennox was zonked out on the couch, the game controller hanging from his still hand. The background music to Madden played on a loop, driving me mad. Walking over to the television with a huff, I shut it off and set out to shower my work day away and crawl into bed. Only, it seemed fate had other plans for me that night. That wicked bitch.
With one foot already on the stairs, my cell phone buzzed in my hand. I paused to look at it, expecting it to be Eden checking in, but my breath was stolen from me when his name appeared on the screen.
Daddy.
It was almost as if he was calling from beyond. I hadn’t spoken to him in over a year, and even then it was me who did the reaching out. I wasn’t even sure he had my number. He never had a reason to. We didn’t have that kind of relationship. I wasn’t his favorite person, and Eden wrote him off well before we settled in Philly. I followed suit and did the same, even if part of me felt like a horrible daughter for leaving him behind so helplessly. Regardless of the way he treated me and my sister growing up, I was the reason for his grief and anger, and the guilt that came along with that made me feel sorry for him.
But what did he want? My heart whacked against my rib cage at the thought that someone could be calling with the news that he was . . . Why should I care, anyway? Crazy thing, though—I did.
“Daddy?” I answered frantically, pummeling up the stairs two at a time as not to wake Lennox.
When I reached my room, I closed the door behind me and asked again, “Daddy? You there? Is that you?” I sounded like a desperate child, in urgent need of love from the one person who never showed it to me.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the high and mighty mistress of Mr. Crippled QB.” His voice was scratchy, marbled, full of condescension, but he had my undivided attention. How did he know about me and Lennox? I should’ve hung up right there, not given him the satisfaction of ruffling my feathers, but that desperate child begged me to listen to what he had to say. He called for a reason. He actually knew I existed. What did he want?
The better part of me remembered he was probably drunk and looking to take his frustrations out on his favorite punching bag. I went along with the old routine and warily waved off his arrogance. “What’s up, Daddy? I haven’t heard from you in a while. Everything okay?”
“Don’t play snide with me, you good for nothing piece of—”
“Okay, that’s enough. It’s been a long day and I’ve gotta get go—”
“Just like you hadda jet outta here like a bat outta hell a few days ago? What? You’re too good to come see your daddy? Ya think I wouldn’t know you came in with that loser and left without so much as a visit to see if your old man’s dead or alive?”
How did he know any of this? And the better question—why did he care? “Who told you?”
Agnes, the mean old bag, was tucked away in some run-down nursing home after dementia got the best of her and no one cared to carry that burden. William and his daughters did not
have friends in common. I’d made sure to stay as far away from my old home as possible for this purpose exactly. There was no way he could have known. Unless . . .
“You made time for your good pal, Denver. Isn’t that so?”
Dad knew Denver? This wasn’t good. I had to get off the phone. I couldn’t do this right now. My brain was frazzled from all the Lennox bullshit I’d withstood the last few days. I was already a mess of tattered yarn, disentangling bit by bit. There was no way I’d survive this type of conversation with my father without totally coming undone in a heap of useless string. “Daddy, why don’t I call you later. When you’ve got some sleep in you. You sound really . . . tired.” He sounded nothing of the sort. He sounded drunk and raring to go. I’d been on the opposite end of that dangerous combination one too many times, and I had no desire to step back into that time warp.
“No, you listen here, little girl. Next time you come whoring around here with some rich has-been on your arm, searching for a good time with your old flame, you best be sure to make a visit to your old man. You owe me. You and that hoity-toity sister of yours.”
“What do we owe you, Daddy?” I was curious. Tears tingled my eyes, my nose, the back of my throat.
“Enough!” He hollered into the phone. I could hear his hand slam against something hard. Mechanically, my body tensed and I closed my eyes. Just hang up, Violet. Just hang up. He has no power over you. But even with miles and years separating us, he did.
Tears finally broke through the pitiful force field I tried to create as my father continued to threaten me. “Don’t think I don’t know how much money that fancy football asshole dropped down here a few days ago. I have ears, girl. I know everything that’s anything when it comes to my kin. Especially now that you’re both prancin’ ’round like some royalty up there in your land of make believe.
“Well, you can put lipstick on a pig, sweet pea, but you and your sister are still just good for nothing white trash, and you left me here for dead after I provided for you, gave you a roof to sleep under, and fed your ungrateful mouths. All the good it did me—” He mumbled more nonsense, all the while ripping open old wounds that I was sure had finally started to heal. I tried to tune him out. I did my best to chalk his words up to the hateful outburst of a sore loser. But what he said next could not be ignored.
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