by Cari Quinn
“Oh my God.”
Both Kizzy and I glanced sharply at Mia. Eyes wide, she clutched her throat. “Kiz, you said you were going to make her a cake.”
“I—I did.” Kizzy took a deep breath and pushed her fingers through the ends of her hair. She’d tied it back with a scarf and it still sprung in every direction. “It’s delicious.”
“Oh my God,” Mia said again.
I slung my arm around her waist. “What’s wrong, babe?”
“Look at this cake!”
At first glance, I couldn’t see the problem. Yes, it was a little long, but Carly was inviting over her friends and I’d invited Slater and Emerson too so we’d need a bigger than average one. Two little round ball things topped one end, crusted with those bejeweled sprinkles Kizzy had mentioned. More of the sparkly things rimmed the round part at the other end.
“It’s a freaking penis.” Mia shook her head. “With supersized nuts.”
“Huh.” I angled my head, studying it some more. The balls were definitely out of proportion to the shaft, but yeah, I guess I could see it.
Mia ground her palms into her eyes. “Dammit, Kizzy. I wonder if I can get a pre-made cake somewhere this late? Maybe the bakery down the street?”
“My cake is fine.” Kizzy sounded indignant. “I ate a piece off the tip to be sure it tasted good. She’ll love it.”
Mia bowed her head, shoulders shaking. For a second, I thought she was crying. Then her laughter rang out, clear and bright.
“You ate the tip of your own penis cake. That’s why it’s so stubby.”
“It is not stubby. They’re not all the same, you know.” Kizzy looked to me for confirmation. “Tell her, Foxy. They come in all shapes and dimensions, right?”
I cleared my throat to keep from laughing. “Sorry, I can’t claim to have looked at a big selection.”
“I have.” Mia pointed at the cake. “And none of them looked like that.”
Yet again an instant of silence reigned. Then we were all laughing, and Mia moved into my arms of her own free will. I actually believed it might be okay. That we’d be okay.
Then, I still believed.
Chapter Thirty-One
Mia
My sister loved her bedazzled penis cake.
Carly lopped off the balls with glee, declaring them hers as the birthday girl. Watching her as she filled her mouth with cake, I felt every day of the three years that separated us. Had I ever been that young?
I would die to protect her innocence, because mine had been stolen from me more times than I could count. First by the man who’d imprisoned and raped me. Then by the news media that turned my daily life into a spectacle. They’d made running my only choice. I changed my first name and I’d dreamed of changing my face, until I settled for people pounding on it until I didn’t recognize the features greeting me in the mirror every morning.
That was my reality, and sitting in center of a party in my crappy apartment didn’t change it. I looked from face to face, even familiar ones, and I saw strangers. My face belonged to a stranger.
I shifted and relaxed as warm arms tightened around me. Tray had pulled me on his lap an hour ago and he hadn’t let me go yet. A few others had gotten up to dance, Carly among them, and he’d just lifted my hand and separated my fingers, examining them as if they were the most fascinating things he’d ever seen. I sensed in him what I couldn’t bring myself to mention aloud.
Tomorrow, after the fight, he thought I was going to run. And he had some misguided idea that he could stop it, that he could love me through the inner torment that compelled me to keep hurting myself, over and over again.
I’d found him out of blind luck, when I was searching for a way to get enough money to leave. Or looking for an opportunity to die. I’d latched onto his Greek God face with the zeal of a missionary in church. It was his ilk that made fun of me, that rightfully shut me out of their world. Perfect, clean, proper people with pristine lives. I was dirty, damaged goods. His parents had known that right away and had acted accordingly. By the playbook in my head, he should have shunned me as a worthless tramp, not given me his jacket and kept coming back for more like a golden puppy who craved the steel-toed boot breaking apart his ribs.
The memory came with devastating swiftness, taking me back against my will.
“Do you know why I picked you? Why I followed you when you walked home from school? I knew you weren’t happy, Amelia. But I could change that. I could share my money with you, and my lavish home, and my body. I could offer you pleasure. I saved you.”
“Wanna dance?” Tray laced his fingers with mine and brought them to his lips. “You’ve never seen me do the Macarena.”
My heart wasn’t in it, but I needed to keep up the charade. It was all we had. “You were a little kid when that was popular.”
“So? I still remember how to do it.” He winced. “It’s actually the only dance I know.”
“Wait a second. Sexy, swaggering Fox Knox doesn’t know how to dance? How can this be?”
“I fight and I fence and I fuck. Those are the only coordinated movements that interest me.” He shrugged, his sulky mouth forming that pout that always made me want to kiss him.
Everything did. I wanted to curl up inside him and never leave. He’d keep me safe. He’d love me until he willed me whole again.
And if someday he grew tired of patching together the holey quilt that was my psyche, if he decided he’d screwed up by getting involved with me, he would take what was left of me with him.
Darren hadn’t killed me, but Tray surely would.
There were calculated risks in life. Odds to be played. If I’d been a different woman, I could’ve taken the chance. But the girl who was barely clinging to the shreds of sanity couldn’t put the bullet in the chamber one more time.
I’d tried to keep him at arm’s length. I’d fought with all my being, but he’d simply strong-armed me into giving in, much as he had in Kurt’s Superette this morning. I was still a challenge for him. Still that unknown variable. When he pegged me for sure and saw that all my numbers were crazy eights, he’d move on in that affable way he had, and I wouldn’t hold it against him because he simply hadn’t understood what he was getting into.
I’d hold it against me, because I’d never wanted someone so much and never been more certain that I had no right to keep him.
“Hey, bitches, it’s time for presents.” Kizzy hopped up on the coffee table and waved the bottle of champagne she held in one hand and the gift-wrapped box she clutched in the other. “If you didn’t bring a gift for the birthday girl, get your ass out and find your free eats somewhere else.”
I couldn’t help laughing. Thank God Kizzy had taken over most of the party planning. I sucked at this kind of thing. My dark mood wasn’t exactly helping either. The fight was tomorrow, and then Tray had surgery, and I had to start making some serious decisions. I couldn’t keep playing happy couple or whatever the hell I’d been doing with Tray much longer. The rent increase notice I’d received that morning had put the exclamation point on that.
But that wasn’t for tonight. I’d spent enough of my sister’s day wrapped up in myself. The rest of the night was for Carly—and then for Tray and me.
I faced him, feeling the familiar quiver beneath my breastbone. “You don’t have to leave if you didn’t get Carly a gift,” I said under my breath.
He arched a brow. “Think I’m a cheap date?”
“No, of course not. But you haven’t known her that long and you’ve already done enough.” He’d helped pay for today’s shopping trip, though I’d practically begged him not to. I didn’t want to take advantage of him, ever.
“It feels like I’ve known you both forever.”
I didn’t argue, because I agreed. My life before he’d strolled into it seemed colorless and indistinct. My past was a dark, endless void I feared getting sucked back into more with every passing moment.
“Not only did I get her a gift, I
got you one too.”
“Oh no. No more. Tray,” I protested softly.
“I missed your birthday.”
“Yeah, like three months ago.”
Shrugging, he drew me closer as Carly grabbed Kizzy’s gift and ripped open the wrapping paper. She had a wine glass in her other hand, and I’d seen her sipping a lot over the last couple of hours. I didn’t want her to get drunk, but I also didn’t have the heart to ruin her good time.
Some guardian I was, contributing to the delinquency of an underage drinker.
“Oh yes. Just what I wanted.” Carly giggled and brandished a silver pan. “Penis cakes for everyone.”
“Jesus,” Tray muttered.
“They belong in every kitchen,” Kizzy announced, earning a round of laughter from Carly’s new gym friends and even Slater and Emerson.
Slater had been dancing with Carly all night, but they had a brother-and-sister vibe going. Besides, Tray said Slater had a live-in girlfriend. And he absolutely hadn’t looked at her like he wanted to swallow her whole, unlike some other people who were not at this party and wouldn’t be allowed near Carly for the next fifty years.
I’d expected her to demand that I invite Giovanni, but she hadn’t. Maybe Tray’s speech about what kind of man Costas was had actually affected her.
“Here’s mine.” Tray dug a box out of his pocket and held it out to Carly. “If you hate them, Slater helped me pick them out.”
“I have no fuckin’ clue what he’s talking about.” Slater grinned.
“You’re such a sweetheart.” She leaned forward and kissed Tray on the cheek with an easy familiarity I envied. She tucked a glossy red nail under the wrapping paper and dug out the blue velvet box inside, popping it open with a gasp. “Diamond earrings?”
“Let me see.” I shot a narrow-eyed glance at Tray, who blinked with feigned innocence.
“Oh my God, these are so gorgeous and perfect. Thank you!” My sister gave Tray a one-armed hug and then did the same to Slater before plopping down in his lap to pry out the earrings.
She put them on and shook back her hair as she grinned at me. Though I hadn’t gotten a good look at them yet, they sparkled from even a few feet away. “Sis, your man has excellent taste.”
“My man is in trouble.” I elbowed Tray in the stomach.
He laughed. “Does that mean you need to punish me?” he asked loud enough for everyone to hear. Including Carly, who giggled like she was completely trashed.
I made a face at him, which he took as an invitation for a kiss. His lips were warm and flavored with the berry wine we’d had with dinner. More laughter spilled around us as he licked his way between my lips, spreading warmth through my chest. Not desire—well, not only desire. Not embarrassment. Plain ol’ happiness.
Carly sorted through the gifts from her friends, opening a couple of brightly colored boxes that contained fluffy sweaters, a pair of jeans, and even a rock band T-shirt from Slater. She dug through everything with a joyful smile until she held up a small box wrapped in ivory paper with a gilt-edged tag.
She frowned. “When did Aunt Patty send this?”
“Yesterday.”
Carly hadn’t spoken much to Aunt Patty after she’d fled her house with little warning, so I’d been surprised and pleased when I’d found her gift in the mail. I had a distant relationship with our dad’s sister, but I didn’t want the same for Carly. Hopefully they’d find their way back to each other.
She tore off the paper and unearthed a delicate cross on a gold chain. And stared.
“It’s pretty, Car,” I offered quietly. Unable to help thinking that for some of us, maybe it was too late to repent. Maybe our chances of reclaiming our inner purity and holiness were gone.
If I’d ever had any to begin with.
“Too late there, right?” One of her new friends elbowed Carly and they shared a grin. I didn’t particularly like the gleam in their eyes. Maybe these girls weren’t the best influence.
Carly tucked the necklace back in the box and set it aside. Then she grabbed my present and shook it, smiling. “Did you get something tiny and fill the box with newspaper like you did when we were kids?”
“Open it and see.”
She peeled off the paper, laughing as the tape stuck to her fingers. Then she pulled off the lid and went still. “Oh man. No way.” She pulled out the purple boots, her eyes filling. “God, Ame. I love you.” She shoved the box aside and ran over to me, dragging me off Tray’s lap with a sniffly laugh. “You’re the best sister ever.”
“If you so much as scuff them, I’ll kick your ass.” I grinned and hugged her back.
“Oooh, you got Uggs?” One of her friends squealed, drawing Carly back to her boots.
I perched on the arm of Tray’s chair for all of five seconds before he pulled me back down on his lap. “Fluffy purple boots,” he murmured. “Softie.”
“She wanted them.” I shrugged and fought not to squirm. Already the telltale flush had started heating my cheeks.
He toyed with the buttons on my shirt, his lips curving in that seductive way that practically incinerated my panties. “I want something too.”
“Uh-huh.” I gave in to the urge to cuddle against his chest and breathed in deep to savor his cologne and my plain Jane soap on his skin. Sometimes the rightness of being in his arms overwhelmed my fear and all I could do was thank God, even if all of this ended tomorrow. My terror over that very eventuality helped me to never take him—or us—for granted.
I’d never stop being grateful that I’d been part of an us. That I’d known the pleasure of a first date where we had a fancy dinner in a place with real linen tablecloths and candlelight. That I’d held his hand while we waited in line to see a Sandra Bullock movie, and I’d noticed people staring at me with envy. I’d snagged the hottest guy. One who looked at me as if he lo—
No. That wasn’t the point. Cherishing the moment was. Just soaking myself in it until I couldn’t breathe from the fullness between my breasts.
I closed my eyes, relishing the solid, strong feel of his long body under mine. Another snapshot for my memory banks. More fodder to keep me warm…after.
I’d grown to hate that word with a passion.
“Go ahead. I’m here,” he breathed against my temple.
For the first time in forever, I could trust someone to keep me safe. I didn’t have to keep watch, because he would. He’d never let me fall.
“Ame.” Carly nudged my shoulder. “Wake up.”
I blinked and lifted my head from Tray’s shoulder, glancing around at the party still in progress. “I fell asleep?” That never happened so easily. I was the type to toss and turn all night. Guess it depended what kind of pillow I had beneath me.
Speaking of pillows, I glanced at Tray, who was having a hushed conversation with Slater about whatever his buddy was doing on his phone.
“Apparently. You haven’t even been drinking much.” Carly hiccupped and held out her cell. “Aunt Patty wants to talk to you.”
I started to shake my head, but then I remembered I was supposed to be a responsible adult, not a rebellious kid who hid from any sort of parental interference. I accepted the phone and rose to take the call down the hall, away from the music and drunken laughter. Kizzy sounded like she’d inhaled her entire bottle of champagne singlehandedly.
“Okay. Thanks. Be right back,” I said to Tray.
He gave me a distracted nod and a smile.
Once I’d entered my dark bedroom, I sucked in a breath and leaned against the wall. “Hi, Aunt Patty. How are you?”
“Is Carly drunk?” she demanded.
So much for a pleasant conversation starter. “Uh, I let her have a little because it was her birthday.”
“A little? That girl sounds wasted. She’s eighteen, Amelia, not twenty-one like you.”
“I know that. It was a one-time thing.”
“What else are you letting her do? The noises around her sounded like an orgy.”
/> “She has a few friends over, that’s all. They’re all fully dressed, I swear.” At least they had been before I fell asleep.
“Oh really?” Never the most understanding person, Aunt Patty must’ve been OD’ing on her judgmental wine tonight. “What about you? She said you were cuddling in your boyfriend’s lap. Some example you’re setting for her, Amelia. I thought you of all people would realize how damaging the wrong influences can be on a young person.”
“I was asleep in his lap, not having sex.” I swallowed the rest of the retorts that wanted to spring out of my mouth. She’d ignored me and Carly for years, content to get money from the state for our care, until she found Jesus and began pretending she lived a pious life. I could deal with anyone but a hypocrite. “Is there a reason you wanted to talk to me besides accusing me of things that aren’t true?”
“Yes. You’re the wrong person to be guiding Carly’s life, and I want her to come home.”
My chest and my throat iced over in tandem. But my heart still pounded frantically even through the frost. “She’s eighteen. She’s an adult.”
“She’s too young to be in a wild place like New York City. If she were here, she could enroll in that culinary school she talked about. She’d be in a small town, with people who have small town sensibilities. She’d be with family.”
Culinary school? Why hadn’t Carly mentioned that to me? I rubbed the dull ache spreading through my forehead. “I am her family. I’m her sister. She wants to be with me—”
“She thinks you’re on the verge of a mental breakdown,” Aunt Patty interrupted. “That’s why she hurried up to finish school and raced down there to be with you. She feels responsible for you. Now she’s telling me that you’ve brought her into a world of illegal fighting and dangerous people. That even your boyfriend is one of them.”
“It’s not like that. He’s not even fighting anymore. He’s in college.” Or he would be soon. Besides, why had Carly told her about MMA and Fox? Must be the alcohol talking, because my sister was smart enough not to tell Aunt Patty that kind of thing.