“What do you think you’re doing, Lucas?” Nate asks as I tighten my bootlaces, double-knotting the last.
“I’m going to see Cassandra. You remember her, right? The beautiful redhead in the purple dress you were trying to choke with your tongue earlier tonight. She’s about this tall…” I pull my hand out of my pocket and flatten it to my chest. “I can’t believe you acted like you didn’t know who she was, after everything I’ve told you. You know how I feel about her…you douchebag. Now, move!” I trip over my shoelace, but manage to remain standing. I take a step forward and trip over Dartanya’s duffle bag, which causes me to fall sideways into the table beside the door. Our mom’s vase shatters onto the floor seconds after I do. “This is all her fault!” I yell after kicking Dartanya’s bag once I get to my feet.
Dartanya sits up from the couch, and all the hate she holds for me at the moment is clear by the disgusted snarl on her face. “Lucas, I’ve pretended to be asleep throughout your entire hissy fit, but this is going to stop!” She rubs her face with her hands, as her voice gets louder. “You have managed to break my best friend’s heart by having that whore Lacey take you to The Hot Spot. And, now, you’re blaming me?” She stands on the couch and glares at me. “Look, I kept my mouth shut and didn’t tell Cass about Amelia because you asked me not to. Hell! She doesn’t even know Hunter lived with you, and I’ve been staying here!” She jumps off the couch and comes at me, pointing her finger in my face.
Nate takes a few steps backward to get out of her path. He puts up his hands, trying to show he has nothing to do with this. We both know Dartayna can be a bit brash. Johnny and the two of us returned to their house one evening, only to find most of his belongings on the lawn with a sign that read: Free. She only succeeded to give away a few of his CD’s before we got there. She said she did it to get even with him for him calling her a ‘brat’.
Dartanya pushes me in the chest with her hands, but I barely move. “I told you before I even introduced you to her that if you hurt her, you were dead to me! She has been through too much, Lucas. Do you understand me?” Tears begin to stream down her face as she yells. I lower my head and nod in defeat.
“I wasn’t talking about you,” I mumble, keeping my eyes on the shards of glass surrounding my feet. “I was blaming Lacey. It’s her fault. I know it was stupid of me to have her come get me, but for fuck’s sake, she wouldn’t give the phone to Cassandra.” I scoot the broken pieces of the vase to the wall with my boot. “If I could change how tonight unfolded, I would, but that isn’t possible.” Nate clears his throat and wraps his arms around Dartanya from behind. “Please, you just have to believe me. My intentions were never to harm her. I want to see her to make sure she’s okay,” I say in a monotone voice, accepting that is not going to happen tonight. Not if Dartanya has anything to do with it, that is.
She wiggles out of Nate’s arms. “Fine.” She pulls out her phone and pushes it in my direction. “Call that gutter-trolling, scum-sucking whore and tell her to leave you the fuck alone!” I look up as she shrugs her shoulders and inches the phone closer to my face. “What? I want to listen to you tell Lacey to go to hell.” Her voice cracks, and she sniffs, just trying to hold back tears. “Well, go on.” She grits her teeth. “If you want to see Cass again, you repeat that verbatim.” She turns on the speakerphone and dials Lacey.
Lacey answers after the second ring. “Look, Lace…” Dartanya glares at me and impatiently taps her bare foot against the floor. “Leave me the fuck alone, you…” I can’t remember exactly what Dartanya said moments ago. She spoke so quickly. “Gutter-sucking troll scum.” Dartanya and Nate stifle a giggle at my misuse of words.
“But, Lucas,” Lacey whines. “We had a good thing going, baby. Until that girl, Cassandra, that is.” I bite my lip, trying not to scream at her, infuriated she even talks about Cass.
Dartanya mouths, “And.” I sigh and choose to ignore what Lacey said.
“Go to hell, Lacey.” Before I listen to what she has to say, I hang up on her. The look on Dartayna’s face is smug. She brings out her hand, and I give back her phone. She arches a brow and then giggles.
“What the hell, woman?” I question her, and she mumbles an inaudible reply, grabbing her boots.
“Give me your keys, Lucas. I’ll drive you to her. Seeing a grown-ass man act like a two-year-old is pitiful.” She zips them up over her pajama pants as she pulls her hair into a messy ball and secures it on top of her head with a holder. “Actually, I believe you two need to be locked in a room, so you can work out your problems. Either fuck it out or fight it out. I don’t care which.” She holds up her hand. “But, so help me, Lucas Daniels, if she tells you to leave…you will!” Her seriousness is clear by the gruffness in her voice. Seeing how I’m not in a position to bargain, I nod my head in silent agreement.
The thing that baffles me about Dartanya is she is so protective when it comes to Cassandra. There aren’t too many things she seems to give two shits about. Her cooking and Hunter are the only two I’ve noticed. However, recently, Hunter hasn’t made that cut either, so I guess it’s Cassandra and cooking.
Nate clears his throat. “Bro, I hate to burst y’all’s bubble, but you aren’t leaving without sobering up some.” He shoves a mug of coffee toward me and ushers me to the couch. “You all can hate me if you want, but if you’re serious about this chick, you should be a little more sober when you do whatever in the hell you’re going to.” Dartanya glares at him and puts her hands on her hips. Regardless of how much he pisses me off, he is right, but you won’t catch me admitting that aloud. As much as I would like to forget the beginning of the night, I would like to remember the remainder. He pours Dartanya and himself a cup, and they join me on the couch.
Dartanya spits out her coffee after taking a sip. “Blah! Adams, I think this could walk by itself.” She looks at him and sticks out her tongue, causing him to laugh.
“If you don’t like it, make some yourself, Abby.” He winks at her and grabs a big swig of his drink. He coughs, trying to hide a laugh. “Drink up, Lucas.”
I sigh, putting the cup to my lips and taking a drink. “What’s this Abby and Adams shit?” They both look like they have no idea what I’m talking about. Maybe they think I’m too inebriated to notice, but something is up with them. “Seriously, I’m not dropping this. What’s going on?” I down the rest of what is in my mug and gag. Dartanya wasn’t lying about it being in a position to walk.
Dartanya’s phone beeps from the coffee table in front of the couch. “It’s nothing, dude. Just drop it, please.”
“Aren’t you wanting to get that?” he asks, glaring at her cell.
She bites her lower lip and looks at him through her lashes. “Nah, it’s probably not that important.” He picks it up and gives it to her without looking at the screen.
Her face flushes, and she smiles as she replies to the message. “Eh, nobody good.”
“Mmm…hmm…I bet.” He snorts and then shakes his head, as he stands from the couch and walks to the kitchen. When I look at Dartanya, she moves her head back, and her eyes widen.
“What’s up his ass?” I nod my head toward the kitchen after setting my mug onto the table. She shrugs her shoulders while putting her hands up into the air and making a squeaking noise.
She squeaks again. “Maybe he found the stick that Cass is always looking for,” she intentionally says loud enough for him to hear her and then opens her mouth, immediately covering it with her hand afterward. “At least I wasn’t trying to strangle somebody’s girlfriend and my best friend with my tongue,” she says, sticking out her tongue in his general direction.
“Just drop it, Dartanya. I…Was…Drunk. Don’t get all judgmental on me. She turned me down, just like somebody else I know!” he yells from the kitchen, causing her to pout.
“Speaking of her… you ready to go, drunk ass?” Finally, I can get out of this house. Being in a room with the two of them is torture. Their banter makes me suspect there is
more going on between them than they are letting on. I’d ask, but I know they would deny every bit of it.
After putting my hands into my pockets and finding nothing but a wad of cash, I smack my forehead and sigh. “You’re going to be pissed, but Lacey still has my keys.” Dartanya licks her teeth and closes her eyes.
“You’re trying my patience, and trust me, right now…” She grits her teeth before speaking again and looks toward the kitchen. “That is definitely something you shouldn’t do.” She elongates the word ‘you’.
Water begins to run in the kitchen. “Where is your soap? Never mind. I found it,” he calls in a fake happy tone, closing the cabinet door with a loud bang. “Don’t fret. You can drive my car, but I’m going along.” He comes into the living room with dishwashing liquid in one hand and his keys in the other. Once he places his keys into Dartanya’s hand, he squeezes the bottle and bubbles fly out the tip. “I’ll get your keys from Lacey tomorrow. I just hope she doesn’t trash your car after you called her ‘troll scum.’” Dartayna rolls her eyes and closes her fingers around the pink rabbit’s foot on the key chain. Lacey ruining my car didn’t cross my mind at all, until now. I hope she leaves it alone.
My brother keeps a penny in the toe of his shoe, and there are multiple four-leaf clovers stashed around his house, but I’ve always wondered about the pink rabbit’s foot hanging on his key ring. It’s been there since the summer he went down to the river with Dartanya’s brother, Johnny. Instead of inviting me along, he sent me off to spend a week with our uncle, and when he returned, he was an absolute dick for several months afterward. When I asked him from where the new addition to his key chain had come, he refused to give me a real answer. He only said something about him being a superstitious freak and went on with his day.
We walk outside, and I notice my car parked beside Nate’s. I rush over and search for any proof of Lacey’s anger. However, it doesn’t appear to have suffered her wrath. If possible, the paint seems to shine more than it did before, even in the moonlight. I run my fingers through my hair after seeing the keys in the ignition. Dartanya opens the door and grabs the keys. “I still want to drive his car. It is a p-magnet!” she bubbles as she sticks out her tongue, nodding her head while shaking her ass. I tilt my head in pure confusion. Her mood swings are better than a whole psych ward’s tonight.
Even though I don’t trust that Lacey didn’t do anything to my car, I decide to forget it for the moment. There are more important things I need to think about, like what I’m going to say to Cassandra. It did look bad coming to my bar with Lacey, but that thought hadn’t crossed my mind when I told her to come get me. My palms begin to sweat, and I wipe them onto my shirt, leaving a dampened trail behind.
We get to Nate’s car, and he motions for me to get into the back. I stop before sliding into the front and peer at him. His eyebrows pull together. “Don’t think you’re riding shotgun. It’s my car,” he points out and again motions for me to climb into the back.
I push the passenger seat forward and get inside, moving the seatbelt behind my back, so it doesn’t choke me. “Okay, sweetheart, take it easy on her. She’s a newbie,” Nate cautions in a low voice after he and Dartanya take their seats.
“This isn’t my first time driving,” Dartanya sneers over the ignition as it comes to life. “Besides, this hunk of metal is hardly new,” she barks, adjusting the seat and steering wheel.
“I wasn’t talking to you, Abigail. I was talking to her.” He rubs the dashboard as he laughs. “She’s a ‘79 Pontiac Firebird.”
“Oh, I guess that would explain the bird on the hood, huh?” She glares at him, buckling her seatbelt and putting the car into drive. She shakes her head. “I’m surprised you’re not outside on your hands and knees blowing the fucking tail pipe.”
“Maybe I should,” he scowls back at her. “At least she would give me the time of day.”
“Maybe you should. At least she doesn’t have a best friend you’ll try to maul,” Dartanya hatefully says, pulling out of the parking lot and stopping at the stop sign.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think the two of you were fucking,” I voice my observations, which earns them both to look angrily at me over their shoulder.
Chapter 13
These strings attached to my body need to be cut
With each animated movement and every planned step
I can feel the world suffocating me
But a marionette’s heart is hollow and can’t be broken
So from now on, I’ll hide under Geppetto’s hand.
Cassandra
Lucas passed out almost instantly after he leaned his head on my shoulder in the cab. I tried to wake him by elbowing him, but that only caused him to snore louder. Once, as he repositioned himself like a snake to my side, he murmured, “I’m sorry, love you…” He paused and then finished his sentence, “Awake?” After he spoke, he sat straight up, and one somber glance in my general vicinity, he was out again.
Despite how brief the pause had been, the use of those two words in the same sentence caused my heart to pound against my chest and my breathing to hitch. Every bit of uncertainty and self-doubt I had ever felt began to seep from my pores, causing me to question why Lucas is sticking around.
He didn’t say he loved me, and in a way, it was a relief. Yet, in the very same moment, I could feel my hope dwindle, uncertain as to what it is I want him to feel. Not that my life had a sense of direction before him, but now there definitely wasn’t one. When it comes to Lucas, I don’t know which way is up.
Maybe I had been a little overdramatic about Lacey, but at least Lucas was safe. Even if the status of our relationship may be non-existent in the morning, it is the least of my worries at this point. My heart feels like it is breaking in half for them and for their loss of Amelia and whatever is happening between Lucas and me. Although I had only met her briefly, in that short amount of time, I could tell the world had become a colder place the moment she took her last breath.
As soon as I walk through my bedroom door, I close it behind me, not wanting to risk Dar coming home and insisting we talk. Tears begin to pool in my eyes and flow down my face. No one is here with me, but it makes me feel safer closing off myself from everyone else. I change into an oversized t-shirt and lean against the door. Anguish consumes me as I slide down to the floor. Everything that happened today makes my head feel like it is spinning. Crying isn’t something in which I take pride. Every time it happens, I feel like he’s won again. Yet, in this moment, I feel more alone than I ever have in my life. Dar is with Hunter. Lucas is with Nathan and quite possibly Lacey, but I shouldn’t think about that. This is not the time to display self-pity; I’m not the one who just lost a sister, a mother, a wife, or a friend. However, I feel like everything I once cared for is gone.
Maybe Lucas and I were never intended to be together and doomed from the start. Maybe if I had not fought him as much? If I had let him in? Each new thought causes me to sob harder than the previous one, bringing new pain to my soul. I should have given him the benefit of the doubt, but trust doesn’t come easily to me. Most people can trust. Most normal people, that is, but I’m broken, damaged goods.
The last time I felt this overwhelmed was the night my trust in humanity died. When someone touches me, I can still feel Harold’s calloused hands against my bare skin as he ripped my clothes from my body. His wicked smile as I tried to fight him off still haunts my dreams.
It is ironic that the very words he uttered are the words that now encircle my left ankle. “Fidarsi di nessuno” means “Trust no one” in Italian. “Niente paura,” meaning “Fear nothing,” around my right, reminds me I survived and always will be a survivor. I run my fingertips along the black ink outlining each letter. Dar and the tattoo artist are the only two people who know what they mean. I chose Italian because I admire how exotic and enticing the language is rolling off the tongue.
The placement of my tattoos was actually Dar’s idea. T
he rope Harold used to secure me to the bedposts caused severe scaring. They were a constant reminder of him, so she convinced me to get tattoos to hide them. “A new beginning,” she referred to it, leaving the past behind. She got her sparrow tattoo on her ankle at the same time I got mine, even though we had barely known each other.
The moment we met in the therapist’s waiting room, I instantly felt like I could trust her. There was something innocent about her smile that broke down every wall I had built, which was weird, considering I hadn’t trusted anyone in years. She had also been raped, but she didn’t know her attacker. She was sixteen, and I was nineteen at the time, and the rest is history.
*****
The tears that previously plagued me now only appear as smeared mascara left behind, staining my cheeks. Lightly, I smudge the skin beneath my eyelids to wipe away the black smear and exhale deeply. After sitting in the same position for so long, my legs cramp. I guess it’s my body’s way of asking me to get up off my ass and quit feeling sorry for myself. “Okay,” I groan, as I push off the floor and roll my eyes, feeling silly for talking to myself.
Pins and needles immediately erupt in my left leg and foot as I stand, causing me to curse myself for sitting so long. I open the doors and drag my limbs behind me as I walk to the kitchen. I giggle, thinking of how I must look like a zombie and wonder if I’m still drunk.
I tap my front tooth with my fingertip to see if it is numb. I can feel it, so I must not be as drunk as I had been. Honestly, I’m not sure if that’s a myth or not, but it seems to be pretty accurate when gauging my drunken state of mind.
Following a low growl from my stomach, I decide to rummage through the fridge for something to eat. The glare from the light illuminates our apartment, nearly blinding me. I shield my pained eyes, resting my sights on a cup of yogurt, peaches, and cream that is setting on the bottom shelf.
The front door creaks, and I freeze mid-reach like a raccoon caught in a trash can once the living room light comes on. “Hello?” I croak after wetting my lips with my tongue.
Just Breathe (The Blue Series Book 1) Page 17