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Dirty Power

Page 2

by Ashley Bartlett


  “I guess someone had to,” I said.

  “Yeah, you made enough chicks lose their shit. Someone had to break your heart, I guess.”

  I shrugged. That was enough analysis for one day.

  “So you want me to put some of that antibacterial shit on that cut?” Ryan pointed at my split lip. Smooth subject change.

  “After my shower.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m going to need you to change my dressings anyway.”

  “Dressings?”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot to tell you.” I hadn’t shown them the full extent of my injuries. It hadn’t seemed expedient when we were on the run from Vito. And right then, explaining seemed like a lot of work. So I just stripped off the henley I was wearing.

  “What the fuck?” Ryan traced a fingertip over the bandage on my bicep. It was stiff in the center from dried blood. Then he trailed down to my elbow. That one only had a Band-Aid. “Where else are you hurt?” Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed my tank top and pulled it over my head so I was shirtless. I’d never seen Ryan look so mad.

  “It’s not that bad,” I said.

  “What the fuck did they do to you?” Ryan lifted my arm to look at the still healing scar on my ribcage.

  “It’s a bullet wound.”

  “I can see that. What happened?”

  “Shit,” I said.

  “And what’s this one?” He peeled the tape back to look at my arm.

  “Knife.”

  “And this?” He pointed to the lame-in-comparison Band-Aid.

  “That one was my idea. We needed blood.”

  “What?”

  “To fake Christopher’s death. It’s a long story,” I said.

  “Is he the one who stabbed you?”

  “No. The guy who did that is dead.”

  “Who shot you?”

  “He’s dead too.”

  “Jesus. Fuck. I’m sorry.” He looked at me with the most anguished eyes ever. Which was weird. Ryan didn’t do anguished. He did goofy and stoned. “We never should have left you.” He looked away, but not before I saw the tears gathering. It kinda pissed me off.

  “You’ve got to kidding.”

  “What?” He kept his face turned away. As if I’d never seen him cry like a bitch.

  “You don’t get to cry for me.”

  “Huh?”

  “You left me. I mean, I get it. She’s your sister and all that, but you left me. It was fucking shitty. And I still dragged my ass through hell to fucking find you. So, no, you don’t get to cry.”

  “But, Coop.” He shook his head like that would make thinking easier. “That’s why I’m sad. ’Cause we shouldn’t have left you.”

  “Fine. But don’t expect comfort from me.” I was disgusted with him, but I didn’t know why.

  “I don’t.” He was lying. I could tell. “Fuck, Coop. Look what they did to you.” And then he started sobbing.

  “Shit.” I’d made my best friend cry. I was an asshole. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” He didn’t say anything. “Really. I didn’t mean it.” I kinda did. But I didn’t want to see Ryan cry.

  “Ryan.” He wouldn’t face me. “Ryan.” I grabbed his long hair to force him to look at me. “I’m fine. We found each other again. It was worth getting shot and stabbed and beaten and hit with that baseball bat and whatever the hell else. If I got you, I’m good.” It was only half a lie. He was only half of what I wanted. But that was okay. Maybe the rest would just go away. Maybe I could forget what I’d seen. Maybe I’d forget that I loved Reese and she didn’t love me.

  “You know all those platitudes and shit?” Ryan asked.

  “Huh?”

  “If I could go back. If we could trade places. If whatever. I don’t know.” Ryan swiped at his damp cheeks with the back of his hand. “If I could make you whole again, I would. That’s all.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ll try to—”

  We both turned our heads as the water shut off. I grabbed my tank top out of his hand and pulled it on.

  “Don’t tell her, ’kay?”

  “Why?”

  “Please, just don’t.”

  “Fine.” He looked not happy.

  When Reese emerged from the bathroom, we very carefully didn’t make eye contact, or any kind of contact. I went in and shut the door behind me, relieved to be alone for a moment. I’d never before felt the need to get away from them. Except for running from Reese my whole life, but I hadn’t really meant that. Ironic, considering how hard I’d worked to find them, that once we were together I wanted to get away.

  I’d already taken one shower since the twins and I had fled the DiGiovannis. It was cursory. Intended to remove the blood from my hair. But my hair was still stained. It was the kind of filth that couldn’t simply be washed out. Not alone at least. I’d either need to wash it about twenty times—and considering the open wound on the back of my head, I wouldn’t be doing that—or I’d need one of the twins to do it for me.

  As it was, I only got half a shower. I hadn’t seen a real doctor for any of my wounds, but I was pretty sure that I wasn’t supposed to get them wet. Or soapy. I needed to ask Breno. He would know.

  Too soon, I was finished with my shower and just standing there knowing I didn’t want to go back out into that room. They would be there waiting for me. Or worse, maybe they wouldn’t. They’d left me before. Why not round it out to a nice even four abandonments?

  Ennui didn’t look cute on me.

  Chapter Two

  “Just to be clear,” Reese stopped laughing long enough to say. “You went with some guy named Esau to torture and kill Christopher, but stopped when you realized our biological father was there.”

  “Yes.” I was studying the elevator lights as if that would make the damn thing come to our floor faster.

  “This Breno.” Again, I imagined her doing air quotes. “Looks identical to Ryan so you had some inherent knowledge when you saw him. Which made you decide to kill Esau and fake Christopher’s death.”

  The elevator finally arrived. Reese kept talking as we got in.

  “And you had a long, bonding type forty-eight hours where you discovered that our esteemed stepfather, Christopher, is gay.” Ryan started laughing. “And he, twenty years ago, faked Breno’s death. Oh, because they were best friends. Am I getting all this right?” Reese joined Ryan in his laughter.

  Ryan cut in. “And they convinced you that they both deeply love me and Reese. Even though they abandoned us to varying degrees.” He stopped to catch his breath. “Better yet, they abandoned us because they loved us and each other and our mom so fuckin’ much.”

  I really didn’t get why all this was so damn funny.

  “Do the part where Coop beats Christopher and they fake his death.” Reese smacked Ryan’s stomach with the back of her hand. They both escalated to howling.

  Thankfully, I didn’t hear that part of the story I’d just told them in the hotel room repeated back to me because the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. I walked out, assuming they would follow. They did. I could hear them giggling behind me.

  The laughter followed me through the lobby, past the front desk, and into the small restaurant that looked out onto the snow covered Denver streets. They managed to stop laughing out loud, but I imagined they were grinning behind me, waiting for a punch line that would never come. I rounded one of the large pillars and spotted Christopher and Breno sitting by one of the wide windows. The twins stopped when I did, one standing on either side of me.

  Reese saw them first. She gasped. One hand lifted as if to touch the surreal scene of her two fathers sitting twenty feet away.

  On my other side, I heard Ryan swallow, cough. I turned to look at him and saw that he had gone pale, or as pale as Ryan ever went.

  “Fuck that.” Ryan spun to walk away, but I grabbed him by the arm and held him in place.

  Christopher and Breno hadn’t noticed us yet so I pulled Reese and Ry
an behind the pillar. They needed a moment before Breno saw them.

  “No, this isn’t happening,” Reese said. Except it was happening.

  “I know they have a lot to answer for. And they know they have a lot of explaining to do.”

  “No fucking shit.” Reese glared at me.

  “This can’t be explained away. Why did you bring us here?” Ryan asked.

  I thought about that. Because he was right. It was a little fucked up to spring it on them like this. Okay, I had tried to warn them, but still. I could only think of one reason that wasn’t a bullshit platitude.

  “Because I thought you would want to know your father.”

  “Shit just got real.” Only Ryan.

  “You in?” I asked.

  “If you are.” He directed it at Reese.

  “Damn it.” Reese stared Ryan down, but then she nodded.

  I could have celebrated my minor victory or gloated or pointed out that I hadn’t been lying. But I didn’t. I just walked over and sat next to Breno. He spared me a glance. Fear and kindness and relief all in a split second.

  And then he saw them. Really saw them for the first time. I wondered what he was feeling, but I didn’t know. All I could see were his trembling hands and the tears in his eyes. Ryan and Reese were easier to read.

  Reese was pissed. I watched as the anger was forced down, controlled, until nothing showed on her flawless face. That detachment told me more than the anger had. This would be a battle. Reese would win. Or she thought she would.

  Ryan’s reaction was more amusing than anything. Like the time he had gotten an ant farm as a kid. I thought it was boring as fuck and decided to dismember Reese’s Barbies. But Ryan sat there for weeks just watching. He was like that now. Staring at the inevitable and freakish result of nature. Fascinated. I knew in that drug-addled brain of his he was tracing the contours of Breno’s features, trying to find the differences, strangely drawn in.

  I’d done the same thing. Watched until I knew how they differed. Ryan’s mouth was wider, more sensual, than either of his parents’. His eyes, like Reese’s, went gray when he was scared or high or excited or angry or aroused. Well, I wasn’t sure about Ryan when he was turned on. But Reese’s went gray. So his probably did too. Ryan’s skin was a shade lighter than his father’s. It was smoother too. Though that might have been his surprisingly in-depth exfoliation routine.

  “This is Breno,” I told the twins. It was kind of obvious that this was Breno, but someone had to say something.

  “Hello,” Breno said. His smile was weak.

  “For real,” was all Ryan said. Reese said nothing. It was going to be hard to mediate this conversation.

  “We ordered coffee,” Christopher said. Good. Someone was going to help with this silence.

  They turned to look at him.

  “Fuck, man. What happened to your face?” Ryan asked even though he knew what had happened to Christopher’s face.

  “My God. Coop did that to you?” Reese looked back and forth between Christopher and me with her mouth open.

  “Yes,” Christopher said.

  “So everything you said was true?” Ryan asked me.

  “Yeah. Why would I make it up?”

  They didn’t have an answer for that.

  “What exactly are we doing here?” Reese asked.

  “For the moment, we are going to figure out a way to get the gold back,” Breno said. It was sort of the truth. He wanted to know his kids. But we all knew that was going to be a slow process. Probably best to hide behind the things that needed to be done.

  “And how will we manage that?” Reese’s tone suggested that she thought it was an impossible task. It was. But that didn’t deter Breno and Christopher.

  They launched into what they’d found out. And what their plan was. It still sounded insane to me. But I didn’t care anymore. I was just along for the ride.

  *

  “Have I told you recently that my ass is numb?” Ryan asked. He used his highbrow, imitating-Reese voice.

  “Indeed, Ryan, you have,” I said with the same intonation.

  “Oh, good. I wouldn’t want you to think that I was enjoying this.”

  “Now, now. Look at all of this scenery.” I sounded like my father.

  “Yes, the Rockies are so exciting.”

  “You gotta get more into nature, bro,” I said.

  “If you let me get stoned, I’ll totally get into nature.”

  “You really want to meet up with Breno and Christopher reeking of pot?”

  “How long is this drive again?”

  It was a non-sequitur. But he’d made his point.

  “Fine. Smoke away. But roll the window down. I’m driving and that doesn’t mix with weed.”

  “Love you,” he said.

  Ryan didn’t talk much when he lit his first joint of the day. He’d always told me it was a profound experience not to be muddied by speech. Just like that. Or sometimes it was a profound experience not to be diluted with the changing and fallible conception of reality. Once, he even looked at me and said ceci n’est pas une pipe. I never quite figured out what he meant by that.

  Besides, I always thought he just lost the power to speak for the first minute or so.

  He took his time that morning. First, smelling the unlit jay. Then, turning it, inspecting it for a flaw. When he found none, he lit it. I cranked up the heater when he cracked the window. He inhaled deeply. His closed eyes seemed to smile, but it didn’t reach his mouth. Like his muscles were taking orders from different brains.

  I ignored him and looked back to the road. It was beginning to snow. I’d volunteered to drive first, but now I was regretting that. Whatever. I was probably better than Reese. Girl drove at like half the speed limit. Add snow, and we would never get to Vegas. And the only other option was Ryan. Who currently had his nose and one hand pressed to the window. His breath fogged the glass.

  “It’s crazy isn’t it?” Ryan whispered.

  “For real.” I didn’t know what I was agreeing to. But I also didn’t know the potency of the weed I’d given him. For all I knew it was laced with acid. That would suck.

  “I mean, look at it. I saw a picture once, but I never really realized, you know?”

  “You’ve only seen a picture of the Rockies once?”

  “No, man. Of his face. It’s like mine. Or mine is like his. Crazy, right?”

  Oh, now it made sense. He was looking at his reflection. “Yeah, it’s weird.”

  Ryan turned from the window. “Did you freak when you saw him?”

  “Totally. Dropped my gun. Almost shot myself in the foot.”

  “Dude. Guns aren’t toys. You gotta be careful.”

  No shit.

  “He really loves you guys,” I said.

  “Yeah, you’ve said that like a bajillion times. But he doesn’t know us. So it’s like he loves us in theory, you know?”

  “I guess. Christopher has kept him pretty updated on what you guys are doing and who you are and shit.”

  “So?”

  “So he knows you as well as he can,” I said. Ryan stared at me blankly. “Plus he almost kicked my ass.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “’Cause he found out Reese and I had been…” There it was again. The relationship that had no word. “Dating or whatever. He said I’d corrupted Reese or something.”

  “Hmmm,” was all Ryan said.

  “And there was that thing with that chick and Breno tried to strangle me.”

  “Oh, that,” Ryan said.

  I didn’t have anything else to say about that so I didn’t.

  “Why’d you do it?” he finally asked.

  I glanced in my rearview mirror. Reese was still asleep.

  “I don’t know. I was mad at her.” We both knew that was how I rolled.

  “But you fucked some other chick. You cheated on my sister, man.” Ryan wasn’t mad anymore. Not like he’d been at first. He just seemed sad.

&nbs
p; “I didn’t fuck her.”

  “Dude, I saw the picture.” Good point. That picture had been pretty damning.

  “That was as far as it went. I was kissing her and I just couldn’t get Reese outta my head. The chick smelled different. Felt different. She wasn’t Reese so I bailed.”

  “Why haven’t you told Reese that you didn’t sleep with her?”

  “Why would I?” I shrugged.

  “Serious?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Because you didn’t cheat on her,” Ryan said like I was stupid.

  “I didn’t fuck someone else. But I still made out with someone else. That’s cheating.”

  “Ehhh.” He shrugged. “Less cheaty.”

  “Less cheaty?”

  “Less cheaty.”

  Lessons in morality from a stoner.

  “She’ll hate me either way. Why fixate on what I can’t change?” I asked.

  “You love her.”

  “Are you asking?”

  “No. I know you love her.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “I was answering your question. Don’t lay down and take it like a bitch. Fight. Tool.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Not that he was right. But he wasn’t entirely wrong, either.

  After that, we really didn’t have anything to say. So we listened to music until we switched drivers at Grand Junction.

  *

  When I woke up, it was dark. I’d been spread across the backseat when I fell asleep, but now I was half falling off it. Because Ryan was shoving me off in his sleep. And his feet were on my stomach. It was a less than comfortable position. I wriggled out from under him and climbed up front.

  “I thought Ryan was going to keep you company.”

  “I got coffee, so I told him he could sleep,” Reese said.

  “Oh. Got it.”

  “It’s still warm, if you want some.” She waved her hand at the coffee cup sitting between us.

  “Thanks.” I took a sip. Coffee ruled. Also, Reese being relatively nice was good.

  “Where are we?”

  “Almost to Vegas. We crossed the state line about forty-five minutes ago.”

  “And then another hour to the gold?”

 

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