Silver Edge

by Ciara Knight

  I loosened the seat belt and angled my body so I could watch him drive instead of the bright lights and sounds outside that were distracting me. This conversation seemed too important not to focus. “Why would I tell someone?”

  “You wouldn’t, would you?” Drake took my hand and pressed a kiss to it. “Is that okay? Are you comfortable with me kissing your hand?”

  My concentration wavered to the brush of sensation he’d left behind. “As long as you don’t want my full attention on the conversation, I don’t mind. I like it.”

  “Okay, good to know. I want to propose something, but if it’ll make you uncomfortable, or if you’re not ready, I totally understand.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Spend the night with me tonight.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Drake took the exit ramp off the interstate and stopped at the light. “Okay, you’ve been silent for almost an hour after I had to practically beg for a reply. If this isn’t all right with you, it’s okay. I’ll just grab my sleeping bag and park it on your floor again.”

  The question had hung on my tongue the entire time, but something held me back. “You know I can take care of myself. You don’t have to spend the night with me, or sleep on my floor. I’ve been able to handle things on my own for a long time.”

  “Scarlet, I’m not asking you to give up your independence, but have you ever thought that I might want to take care of you? Not control you in any way, not that I could if I tried, but just be there for you. You staying alone in a dark warehouse in a bad section of town isn’t something I can sleep at night knowing. I care about you. When you care about someone, you want to make sure the other person is taken care of. You want them to be happy.”

  The light changed and the car rolled forward then took a sharp left to cross over the interstate.

  “I don’t know how to handle someone caring about me,” I muttered. “I’m scared I’ll screw it up. That I won’t give you what you need because I don’t know what that is. Or what if I freak out and punch your lights out because you touched me wrong?”

  He maneuvered the car over the broken curb and parked near the rear entrance to Bands. “Didn’t you just meet my grandmother even though you didn’t want to?”

  He was right. I didn’t want to face meeting his grandmother, but I did. “I’m glad I met her. She’s amazing.”

  “Yes, but you didn’t know that at the time. You did it, I hope, because you care enough about me to do something I wanted.”

  I shrugged. “I guess. I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  Drake turned off the engine and sat there for a moment. “Tonight, I want to do something to make you happy. I want to hold you all night.”

  My hands trembled and my heart sped up. “All night? I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I thought…”

  He quirked his head to the side then sighed. “That I wanted to have sex? No. Well, yes, but not tonight. Did you not listen to anything I told you?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know what you’re saying half the time. I’m trying, but it’s not something I know or intrinsically feel.” Zaps of anxiety surfaced and I shoved the car door open, needing to get out and walk, or run, or something.

  Drake appeared at the back of the car, his hands raised. “Please, don’t run away. I won’t pressure you. Calm down, and we can talk.”

  “All this talking is uncomfortable. I don’t know how to tell you how I feel, or understand what you need. You deserve someone who isn’t a freak or so fucked up in the head.”

  “Scarlet, then you do care about me.” Drake ducked so I’d have to look at him. His gaze dragged my head up as if he tied us together with some invisible string. “If you didn’t care, it wouldn’t bother you so much. Listen, if you want to go back to your warehouse, I’ll take you. But please, don’t run away from me.” His voice cracked and something inside told me there was more behind his words, but I didn’t want to ask.

  “I can’t promise that I’ll even be able to lie next to you. It’s been a decade since anyone has slept with me. And I’ve never spent the night with a guy before.”

  “You can sleep on my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch. We’ll start there. After that, maybe we can slide the couch closer to the bed. And someday, maybe we can share the bed.”

  “In the meantime, are you willing to have sex with a girl who can’t stand to be held afterward? A girl who wants it over with quick?” I fought to catch my breath, but everything inside me warned me to run. That all of this was too much. It would never work out.

  “No. I’m not.”

  For a moment, I didn’t want to believe what I heard. I wanted to run, but hearing his rejection pierced my heart and pinned me in place. “Well, there’s nothing more to say, then. Good night.”

  Drake blocked my path. “I’m not willing to have a quickie with you, but I’m willing to take a lot of cold showers waiting for you to be able to be with me the way we both want. I can see it in your eyes, Scarlet. You want to make love to me, not just have sex. I know you do. If you won’t admit it to me, admit it to yourself.”

  I took two long breaths and waited for the pounding in my ears to subside before I spoke. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Drake shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back on his ankles. “Okay, you’ll try?”

  I nodded. “I’ll try, but don’t hate me if I can’t do it.”

  “I told you already that I could never hate you.” He tilted my chin up with his finger and kissed my forehead. “But I know you can do it. Even now, your shoulders aren’t up to your ears when I touch you like that first time. And it’s only been a day or two. Imagine in a week, or a month.”

  “You’d wait that long?” I held my breath.

  “I’d wait years.” He offered me his hand and I took it.

  We entered the club and Drake ordered a pizza while I went to the piano, knowing the music and the feel of the smooth, cool keys would soothe me. I didn’t have an idea what I would play, I never did, but somehow the music just oozed from my pores.

  I heard him stirring upstairs in a room over the stage by his office. I assumed he had some fancy apartment on Peachtree Street overlooking the city, but it seemed more like we were sleeping at the club. Was that out of consideration for me? I didn’t know. All I longed for at the moment was to release some of that built-up pressure in my body. It was either run or purge with music.

  I sat on the piano bench and closed my eyes. The keys joined my fingers as if they were an extension of my body, and I tentatively played a few notes in the higher range before my mood took over and a tale of fear started to ring through the building. It took me on a journey through a horrific past, with deep tones and slow-moving notes, until the piece changed, picking up into a fleeing tempo. The keys turned light as if the feet of this imaginary character never touched the ground until they fell into despair, loss, and hopelessness, then slowed to a stop. My fingers paused before they continued one note at a time, as if a new morning came and a flower opened to the sun. The beat took on a rhythmical, happy pace, full of hope and cheer. Yet, in the background, there was still one dark note, beating over and over until it all faded away.

  My breath came in great heaves as tears streamed down my face. I never knew why, but music released the caged monster from within, the angry beast that wanted to fight, do drugs, or admit defeat.

  “Scarlet?” Drake’s voice called from behind.

  I sniffled and wiped my nose with my sleeve before rising slowly and finding him standing behind me with glistening eyes.

  “I’ve never heard anything like it. Is there anything about you that isn’t exciting and beautiful?” He shuffled closer. “You might not be able to tell me how you feel, but I can hear your heart through your music.”

  I took a stuttered breath. My legs were wobbly underneath me. The anxiety of the day had fled, and I stumbled forward into his arms. He caught me, held me to his chest, and I hugged him back.

  “Isn�
��t this a sight?” Her voice shattered the moment.

  I shot from Drake’s arms. Margo’s voice tasered my flesh. The sound flipped my switch from tantalized to terrorized.

  Drake swung around. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

  A key on an Audi key chain dangled from her petite, rose-colored fingernail.

  I heard a growl come from Drake. He looked me up and down then sauntered toward me with sexuality oozing from every part of his body. “Scarlet, can you go to my office and wait for me, please?” He swallowed and his eyebrows rose on his face. “Please, don’t leave.”

  I looked at the tall model-esque woman with the power to have me fired once, and decided I wouldn’t let her take anything else from me.

  “Stay,” Drake said again.

  I nodded then sauntered past him with more courage than I felt. “I’ll be upstairs when you’re ready for bed.”

  Blondie’s mouth fell open. “Ah, taken on a homeless charity case for the night?”

  “Margo,” Drake said in a guttural tone.

  I didn’t reply, as I’d already made my point and anything further only gave her more power. The last thing my head wanted was to listen to that high-pitched screeching any longer. Although, once I reached the top of the stairs I stopped just beyond their view and listened. From the distance, I could manage to handle her voice.

  “I know I hurt you, but it’s time to get over it. What are you doing with your life, Drake?”

  “I don’t need to get over anything. I’m moving on.”

  “With that reject?” she huffed.

  I heard footsteps cross the stage. “Watch yourself.”

  “Watch myself? You should be down on your knees, begging for me to take you back after sleeping with that skank.”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t slept with her.”

  “Ah, maybe there’s hope for you yet.”

  “I respect Scarlet. I know that’s a foreign concept for a girl who slept with my business partner five minutes after leaving my office.” His voice sounded strained.

  I rubbed my forehead and tried to keep up with their conversation, but something warned me I shouldn’t be listening in.

  “Stop acting all high and mighty. You slept with your secretary, two girls in accounting, and God knows how many others.”

  “Not after I agreed to be together with you. Not after you stood by my side at my family’s funeral and told me you were there for me.” His voice cracked.

  “I tried, but you were so damn depressed I needed something to get me through it, too. It was just a one-nighter, a way to be happy for five minutes. But now I’m here and I’m ready to commit. All you have to do is give up this place and go back to your real job. Then everything will return to normal, and we can move on with our lives. It’s time to settle down and be grown-ups.” She spoke softer, with a sweeter tone. Her heels clicked twice against the concrete floor.

  “Don’t touch me,” Drake snapped.

  She sighed. “It’s time to let them go and stop punishing yourself.”

  “I’m not punishing myself…anymore. I’m finally letting myself live and enjoy life. You need to let go and move on,” Drake said.

  “No, you’ve lost it. You’re slumming here with white trash instead of where you belong, with me. It’s like you lost yourself and you don’t feel worthy anymore.”

  That low growl from Drake echoed again, then stomps sounded across the stage, down the steps. “You’ll never insult my club, friends, or the people I care about again. Get out.” The front door squealed open. “And I’ll take my key back.”

  Her heels clicked with aggressive speed. “No, you won’t. I’ll own this place when you can’t pay up at the end of this month.”

  “Don’t you mean Daddy will? And I have six weeks,” Drake retorted.

  “No, actually I mean me. You didn’t think my father really loaned you that money. I took it out of my trust fund. This is commercial real estate, I only need to give you thirty days. I’ve already filed to foreclose due to payment delinquency. There won’t be an extension this time. I’ll foreclose and sell this place to my father at a profit. So if I were you, I’d go get whatever that is out of your system and come crawling back. Otherwise, you’ll lose everything, including me.”

  “You’re not getting it. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I don’t want you. I’ll never want you again. I’ll save this place one way or another and repay the loan in full.”

  “Fine, if that’s how you want it, I’ll see you at the end of the month with a bulldozer and an eviction notice.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  I hurried back to the office and sat in the ripped vinyl chair near his desk with my arms crossed over my chest. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that woman was possessed by the Goddess of Bitchdom.

  Drake entered with that crooked, uneasy smile on his face.

  “Can she really shut this place down?”

  Drake gave a long, heavy sigh. “You heard that?”

  I nodded but averted my gaze to the long white thread pulled from the tear in the black vinyl.

  “She can and she will.” He sat by my side and held his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. “I don’t see a way out of this.”

  “There has to be something we can do. What about the Battle of the Bands?”

  Drake dropped his hands and lifted his head. “There’s no way I can get it together in time. One of the producers is out of the country until two days before I’d planned the event and the other is in the studio out in L.A. and can’t get away.”

  “Where’s the loan contract? What’s the payment schedule?”

  He pointed to his desk. “Over there. Stack at the end of the desk.”

  I retrieved the file and sat at his oversize desk chair that threatened to swallow me into the leather. Thumbing through the documents, I found the loan amount and payment schedule. I scanned the number items and the total. It didn’t add up.

  “The loan is for sixty thousand with a five-year term at four-point-nine percent interest. You’ve paid two thousand a month during the first six months.”

  “Yes, I was doing well in the beginning.”

  “You overpaid. You’re only delinquent $425 on top of this month’s payment of $1,129.53. The due notice states you owe $6,777.18 by close of business on the thirtieth, but you only owe $1,554.53 to be up to date on the loan. We can make that by the end of the week.”

  “Even if you’re right—”

  I dropped the folder on the desk. “Really? Do you want a calculator?”

  His slumped shoulders rose a half inch. “No, I trust you, but it’s not just that one bill. Thirty days after that, I’ll owe a large balloon payment, plus electricity, water, trash, not to mention the booze and insurance. There are so many other things it takes to run this place as well. I can’t have you, Walter, and the other employees work for free.”

  “I’ve had worse jobs. Come on. Trust me. We can do this. You’ve got a good band booked this Friday night, right? I’ll help plaster posters around town and get some people in here. Don’t give up on me now. We haven’t even started yet. You said you’ve half-assed it this long. It’s time for you to use your fancy degree and market the hell out of Friday night and then the Battle of the Bands.”

  He stood and picked up the picture of his grandmother and him. “She wouldn’t give up. She once saved a theater from being torn down.” After gently placing the picture frame back on the desk, he offered me a hand. “We can do this.”

  “Good, I didn’t want to have to get Hawaiian in here to kick your ass.”

  “I don’t want that.” Drake sat on the corner of the desk and toyed with my fingers. “Have you ever thought of performing? You’d pack the house.”

  My spine went ridged, as if metal rods were shoved from my neck to my tailbone.

  “What is it?” Drake asked.

  “That’s not an option.” I stu
mbled back and returned to the vinyl chair. It was as if the air inside me froze and wouldn’t thaw.

  “Calm down. It’s okay. I just thought I’d ask.”

  “Can’t. People would…look at me,” I heaved between frosty breaths.

  “Okay, not an option. Got it. Now, breathe. Listen, no matter what happens you’re going to be okay. No more panic attacks or running away. You’re safe with me and that’s not going to change. I just think your music is wonderful and I wanted to share it with everyone.” He brushed the hair back from my eyes and placed my palm to his chest. “Concentrate on my breathing, my heartbeat.”

  After a few beats, I began to relax and join the pacing of his inhale and exhale. His heart beat slightly slower, but I was close.

  “Wow. How’d you know to do that?” I asked, not wanting to move from his perfect, soothing rhythm.

  He caressed my upper arm and I stood in front of him. “Don’t know. It just seems like you relate to certain sounds and avoid others. I hoped my heart would be one of the ones you connected with. Also, I did a little research.”

  “Research about what?” I asked.

  “I wanted to know why you didn’t like to be touched. At first, I thought you were abused, but then with what happened in the club, your mad mathematical skills, and you saying certain sounds bothered you, I discovered something called Asperger’s. Has anyone ever mentioned that to you before?”

  “I’ve been teased that I’m a retard, or autistic. The boys at the center called me Autistic Girl sometimes. The only official diagnosis was from a doctor at juvenile hall who said I had a behavioral disorder with violent tendencies and reported that I should be institutionalized.” I moved closer into Drake’s side and lifted my head to his shoulder. He tucked me into the crook of his arm and kissed my head. That delicious tingling ran down my neck through my spine, all the way to my toes. “What’s Asperger’s?”