Her face was answer enough.
“Looks like we got a winner there, buddy,” I said to the driver, straightening long enough to retrieve a few hefty bills from my wallet and tuck them into his breast pocket. “And thanks again.”
The driver regarded his “tip” with a slack jaw and a pair of gaping eyes before offering me a beaming smile and a vigorous nod that had me feeling dizzy for him. “No, sir. Thank you!”
Then, waiting until I’d taken my place in the backseat with Mia before closing the door, the newly ecstatic young man circled the limo—double-time—took his place behind the wheel, and escorted us off onto our first night together since we’d nearly burned to death in her old apartment.
FIVE
~Mia~
I still couldn’t believe how perfect everything had been since Jace’s recovery. In only a few short hours he’d brought back that sensation that anything was possible with him—that magic—and dashed away all the worries and fears that had started to take root while he’d been “out,” as he’d called it.
“Did I miss anything good while I was out?”
“Have any startling revelations while I was out?”
“Did Danny take over the Crows and change our gang’s colors to a rainbow while I was out?”
In that short interval—between us sitting in a fancy auditorium that neither of us were dressed for and him being “out”—things had turned around so completely that I had a hard time not believing it was all some vivid dream that would turn my life sour the moment I awoke to realize it was all a lie. But I didn’t wake. Instead, things just kept getting better and better. That Jace was awake would have been enough for me, but then he was taking me out—Already breaking the rules—and we were together. Then we were splurging. And then he was surprising me. All in that short interval. I thought back on it, on that divide, and remembered the inverse—that imaginary line I’d drawn back in the hospital’s waiting room that divided him from us—and felt an overwhelming sense that everything had been inverted for the better. Fear turned to hope; hate to love; and terrible imaginary barriers between life and death becoming lines of impossible enchantment that Jace leapt over with careless abandon, my hand clasped in his every step along the way.
It was the sort of thing that fairy tales were built on.
But wasn’t that just the story of us in a nutshell already?
The fanciful yarn of an imprisoned whore and an outlaw prince and how they’d come to save one another from one awful drug-peddling ogre pimp.
Certainly sounds like something the Grimms would have spun, I thought reflectively as the lights in the auditorium dimmed and the scarlet curtain dividing the audience from the actors—dividing us from them—began to part and rise. There was applause, and a whimsical, convoluted logic told me it was for us. This, of course, was foolish, but I accepted the praise all the same as I cozied up beside Jace all the same.
In just a few short hours Jace had gone from being “out” to taking me on a surprise ride in a stretch limo to see The Phantom of the Opera. In just a few short hours he’d not only fixed all that was broken but set a new level of enchantment. In just a few short hours…
It had all felt so surreal even then. And now, two days later, that sensation had only been amplified. The events of that evening divided the events that came before it with such an aggressive and definitive line that it felt in retrospect no different in memory than the difference between sleeping and waking. As such, it felt like everything before had been some sort of twisted nightmare. It seemed so easy to think of my brother’s sudden appearance and just as rapid disappearance as nothing more than some walking night terror that I’d played out that afternoon.
Could it have been my imagination?
Morbid visions of a Christmas Carol—of me as some modern Ebenezer Scrooge and Mack playing the part of the ghost of Christmas past—came to mind. I replayed the memory and imagined myself reciting modified excerpts:
“You’re nothing more a wisp of whore’s guilt: a John I cheated out of twenty extra dollars, a faked orgasm, a little white lie to a big black man. There’s more of ‘his story’ than history to you, Mack!”
“Bah!” I whispered to myself with a smirk, “Humbug!”
All a dream. All just a very bad dream.
And all of it behind me now.
I really wanted to believe that.
And so I did.
I leaned back against the couch, listening to the sound of Jace’s voice as he finished up a phone call with Danny. From what I could hear, it sounded like business was doing well. The Crow’s routine had picked up and, according to Jace, was as it should be. From the sounds of things, everything was once more as it had been. With a few decidedly golden differences, of course. Things were going so well, in fact, that I caught myself wondering if the Carrion Crew would just back off entirely; fade into darkness and then, maybe, fade away into history. I chewed my lip, knowing that it never would be that simple. Hell, I already knew that it wasn’t that simple. Jace’s laid-back demeanor was proof enough that he was still unaware of some details, and I wondered why Danny had chosen not to bring up what his intel had found about the Crew and their activities.
Not that it would take a genius to come to the same conclusion. I mean, hell, we’d have to be idiots not to know that they’d be sore about losing T-Built and two of their biggest cashflows overnight. Sex and drugs had basically been the wings keeping the Carrion Crew aloft, and Jace and I had clipped both in one fell swoop. I was sure that Jace knew that they’d be up to something after that. But he didn’t speak a word of it to me and, from the looks of things, Danny wasn’t speaking a word of it to him.
Was it that there just wasn’t enough information to go on? That everything at this point was speculation and theory and he wanted something more substantial before going to their gang’s leader?
Or maybe Danny was just letting things get back on track—letting a pleasant moment come to pass—before letting reality come back into play to muck it all up again.
I could appreciate both of those scenarios, especially since it gave me more time to appreciate the fairy tale I was living in. Moreover, it wasn’t my place to ask. I certainly wasn’t ready to rush back into business.
Not when everything was going so perfect.
Besides, the doctors—who hadn’t been thrilled with Jace’s “vanishing act” but were, all the same, glad to hear that he was feeling better—did say to keep stress to a minimum. Danny probably had the right idea in keeping the news of the Carrions to himself due to that fact alone. I couldn’t imagine what kind of stress telling him that my brother was out of jail would put him through. I remembered the look in his eyes when I’d told him how I was working to pay off my brother’s debts. Even then—even before everything that had happened since—he’d made his feelings clear about how he had felt towards Mack. If I told him about my encounter there were two strong possible outcomes:
One—he’d relapse, wind up in the hospital again, and I’d be plunged back into that nightmare.
Or, two—he’d take to the streets with a vendetta, try to track down a man who very well had kept to his word and skipped town, and wind up stirring up more trouble for himself than Mack was worth.
With those two very real possibilities hanging over my head, I felt I was justified in choosing not to tell him.
And, for all I knew, Danny was making the same sort of decision on his end.
But it still meant I was keeping secrets from Jace—in essence lying to him—and there was a heavy, cold lump in my gut from that.
If I hadn’t hated my brother for everything before that moment, that he had me lying to the man I loved now was enough to carry me past that point. There was no denying it now: I hated Mack. Like a black cancer throbbing and writhing in my brain, even knowing I shared blood with that man—and I used that word lightly in my own head—was enough to make me hate myself a little more than I already had.
And t
hen there was that infernal argument he’d dredged up…
While, yes, I had met Jace because of my “work,” there was no retribution to be found for him there. He had ruined my life. Maybe he was blameless in the direct sense. Maybe it had all just been a big, ugly circumstantial mess. Maybe our being siblings was enough and the Carrion Crew were the sole architects of the hell I’d been plunged into. Or maybe not. Either Mack shared some of the blame for what had happened to me or he had none. Either way, I’d give him no credit for me finding Jace. I’d been working to make something of myself, was working for a career and all of that got thrown away one single night. The night T-Built and his lackeys had shown up at my door and threw the ultimate ultimatum at me:
Work for them and save my deadbeat loser of a brother or die.
Not much of a choice, was it?
I’d blamed my brother to a degree for letting his debt get out of control to such a heinous degree, but a part of me had held back. Like a mentally feeble person wandering into traffic and causing a pileup or an unknowing child manhandling a loaded gun and shooting his friend in the face, there was only so much blame one could lay down in such a circumstance. After all, the mentally feeble person didn’t know to look, the child didn’t know not to play, and Mack hadn’t known that his sister would have to sell herself to save him.
That’s what I’d thought, at least…
But the Mack who’d caught me off guard the other day had been so cold, so dark, so…
I remembered those eyes—our eyes—as they all-but caressed my body and I felt a shiver rocket across the divide of time and creep up my spine like an icy spider trailing stabbing legs along my back.
There’d been no sorrow in him—in those eyes—and there’d been no remorse. Just barbed words and a razorblade “warning.” And what had all those words and the warning amounted to? Go back? Get back on the corner; get back to selling your pussy if you know what’s good for you?
Mack had always been an awful person, I could admit at least that much, but how had I gone so long not seeing that level of darkness living just across the hall? And, just like it didn’t take a genius to know the Carrion Crew must be up to something after everything Jace and I had taken from them, it didn’t take a powerful mind to wonder if such an awful person might be capable of something more.
Was it possible that Mack had had more involvement in my abduction? Was there more than just our being siblings to blame for me being forced onto that street corner?
And, if so, what was I prepared to do about it?
I shook at the thought, looking down to see my hands clenched and took a deep breath, working to relax. I didn’t want to let Jace see me like that; couldn’t let him see me like that. He needed a stress-free life to recover from everything that had happened, and—dammit!—I was going to give it to him. I owed him that much.
I promised myself that there would be plenty of time to worry over these matters later, and that seemed enough for my subconscious to let go of the bitterness. For now. For now I wanted to just enjoy this moment of peace…
This moment of oblivion with Jace.
“Hey,” Jace called, “you okay?”
I looked up to see him standing over me. I blinked. How long had he been standing there? I hadn’t realized just how out of it I had been. I started to shake my head in an effort to shed off the lingering bits of the dark thoughts, thought better of it at the last moment—not wanting to imply that, no, I wasn’t okay—and forced myself to smile and nod instead.
Stupid! Stupid! I chastised myself. You just said how you didn’t want to worry him! Dummy!
“Y-yeah,” I lied, and cringed a little at that fact, hating Mack all the greater for it. “I’m fine. Just… out of it.”
“Mia?” Jace kneeled in front of me, moving his warm hands to my face.
I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes at the peace he brought me from just a small caress. “I’m fine,” I repeated as I opened my eyes, looking into his warm gaze. I felt a little better realizing that that gaze made the lie a little less of one.
“You promise?” he asked, his gaze falling to the floor in concern. “You looked pretty upset a moment ago.”
“I’m okay, really!” I said. “It’s just, well, sometimes I still have flashbacks to the fire and everything, I guess. It was pretty scary, that’s all.”
“I understand,” he sighed, moving to sit next to me.
“So, what did Danny want?” I asked, quick to change the subject.
He raised an eyebrow and I wondered if he was going to question me more and I silently smacked myself. I couldn’t be any more obvious with wanting to change the subject. I looked down at my hands, looking anywhere but at Jace.
Though it felt painfully obvious—seemed like an absolute certainty that he’d see through the lies and press me further to confess—he seemed appeased by this and gave a subtle shrug. “He just was going over business,” Jace began as he placed his hand over my thigh. “Nothing too serious, honestly. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
I looked up at that and relaxed almost instantly at his words. It was dangerous just how much power he had on my emotions. But that’s the life I lived now, right? One of danger. And if I was going to give anyone complete control over me, it would be this man right here.
“So everything’s okay?” I asked.
“Everything’s A-okay, babes,” he answered.
I nodded, satisfied by the answer but for all the wrong reasons. After all, I’d asked the question more to make sure that the wool was still firmly pulled over his eyes than out of any hope of anything being okay.
Hadn’t I only moments ago been thinking of how much like a fairy tale my life seemed to be? I thought to myself.
Somewhere in the dark forests of my brain—where trolls huddled under bridges and witches lived in gingerbread houses—my depression loosed a cackle.
Two can play at that game, I thought-shouted into that forest. Depression may have loved raping my good moods, but I had a weapon against such things.
I leaned forward, pressing my lips to Jace’s. He kissed me back, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist and pulling me against him on the couch. Already I could feel the dark clouds in my head starting to break and disperse, but it wasn’t fast enough for my liking.
And, moreover, Jace’s kiss tasted so damn good; felt so damn good!
I needed more.
I needed this.
Right now.
I moved into his lap, wiggling a bit as I pushed him back against the couch. The skies in my mind turned blue—no hint of clouds in sight. I ground myself against him, gyrating knowingly, and the forests where Depression and all bad things lived suddenly felt a hundred miles away. I gasped, liberated at the freedom from my own thoughts this man’s touch bestowed upon me, and I grinned at the familiar feel of him between my thighs. Even through both of our pants, I still felt him awakening to my efforts. He groaned as I gently thrusted against his hips and I shivered as he moved his hands back to my waist, this time stopping me from moving any further.
I looked up, suddenly worried that my escape from all of that would be halted, and I felt a pout on my lips. “What?” I asked, suddenly aware of just how much I was craving him. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he chuckled. “Really. I just… I was actually going to ask if you wanted to go out before… well, before you started all this.”
“Well,” I paused for a moment and then grinned wickedly. “We can go out after this.”
He nodded, grinning at my answer and already beginning to work the buttons of my shirt open. “Alright,” he agreed, his breathing starting to come out in frantic pants. “After. I like after, too.”
With nothing more to stop us, we lost ourselves in the familiar passion we’d come to know so well already.
****
“So, where are we going?” I called over the roar of the engine as we sailed down the interstate on his motorcycle.
&n
bsp; “You’ll see,” he called back, moving his free hand to my two hands, which were wrapped around either side of him and clasped below his chest, and squeezing them gently before returning it to the handlebars.
I smiled, squeezing myself to him tighter. The sex earlier had worked to chase away all the darkness that had begun to creep into my core, and, still post-coital, the already invigorating process of riding with Jace took on an elevated sensation. Grinning into his back, I toyed with the idea of confessing that I was drawing dangerously close to having a “moment” but decided it was the sort of erotic distraction that might lead to an accident.
I’ll tell him later, I promised, letting myself get lost in the feel of the engine as Jace continued to weave through the streets.
After all, he needed this ride as much as I wanted it.
We hadn’t been out on a drive like this since before the incident with T-Built. I had worried that it was too soon and that Jace was technically still in recovery, but even then, it hadn’t taken much convincing on Jace’s behalf.
I had, admittedly, been a bit reluctant about going out on his bike after he’d suggested it.
“If I’m fine enough to make love to you,” he had countered with a grin, nodding towards my well-fucked naked body, “then riding my bike will be no issue at all.”
“I don’t think it works that way,” I had tried to argue, though if my resolve had sounded as weak as it had felt I couldn’t be surprised that I’d lost the fight as easily as I had.
“That’s just because you don’t ride,” he replied. “Don’t worry, though. I plan to fix that, too.”
“Oh?” I’d said, quirking a brow at him.
“Mmhm. You’ll see.”
And that, as they say, had been that.
He wouldn’t hear any more and honestly, now sitting behind him as we raced down the highway, I couldn’t think of any reason why I’d been against this. The sense of freedom was back and the familiar peaceful oblivion that came over me was too great to ever believed I’d not want it. Coming back from a beautiful oblivion, I looked up as he turned off the next exit and I looked around, recognizing the area as the art district. We were beginning to slow.
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