by L. J. Woods
“Thanks, Jo,” she says. “Where are you staying? We should hang out.”
I hesitate, not having an answer for her.
Okay, so I didn't think this through. The plan was to get back to The Grove and I did that. But now that I’m here…“Oh you know,” I respond. “Around.”
Shauna raises a skinny eyebrow. “You don’t have a place to stay do you?”
I laugh, surprised at how easy she can still read me. “No. No, I don’t.”
She lets out a hand. “Well, I have a sofa with your name on it if you’re down. Or we can slumber party in my bed like old times.”
“You live on your own?”
“Hell yeah! I mean, it’s no Eden Gardens but it's a hell of a lot better than Mr. Murphy’s basement. Where’s Willow? I can set up something for her too.”
“She’s in better hands without me." Reality sinks in. "It’s just me, on my own, no home to call my—”
“That’s a load of crap,” she interrupts, bangles dangling when she pulls me up from my seat. “You are home!”
“Mi casa es su casa!” Shauna kicks open the door to her studio.
She ushers me in from the hallway that smells like spicy chicken before giving me a tour.
It’s more like a twirl around the main room. Parquet floors, dusty windows. It’s no bigger than my bathroom back at The Archibalds' but she’s got everything she needs.
“Shower’s through that door, I don’t have a clean towel but you can use mine or an old t-shirt." She shrugs before flopping down on a stained beige sofa.
Shauna has a couple of R&B singers I recognize posted on brownish-white walls. Above her bed is a purple tapestry with a hypnotizing design.
Turning on a music video on the old boxy television, she sits up. “You hungry?”
I look over at the pile of dishes in the sink, empty takeout containers next to it. “Nah it's cool,” I say. “My appetite’s nonexistent.”
She nods before a smile spreads across her face, “Whiskey it is.”
Shauna heads to the ground of her four-storey walk-up to grab a bottle from the convenience store. It doesn’t take long for us to get a couple of shots in and on the third, it already starts to feel like old times.
"What?" Shauna snorts, her back against the sofa's armrest, a slice of pizza in her hand. “What’s that face?”
A mouthful of whiskey sits on my tongue. Placing the glass on the wobbly coffee table, I reach for a slice of pizza to wash it down. “What face?”
“Is there something in the glass?” She leans over, checking.
“No!” I laugh. “It’s just harsher than the stuff I was drinking in Eden.”
“Well excuse me.” Shauna makes a haughty face, her pinky finger in the air. “Too good for some ol' Jack Daniels?”
I take a bite before I pick up the glass with my free hand. “Never.” I take another sip and let the alcohol blur my memories of Eden some more.
“What’s the dick like over there?”
I almost spit out my drink, but I don’t know why I’m surprised by Shauna’s crassness. As soon as I get over her question, Damien settles into my mind. His body. His smooth skin. His devious smile.
“Alright, spill,” she says, reading my face again. “Who is he?”
“It’s no one." I did not come back to The Grove to talk about Damien King.
“Jo, don’t bullshit a bullshitter.” She sits up, refilling my glass with some more straight whiskey. “You can tell me.”
I roll my eyes before I let his name fall out of my mouth, “Damien King.”
“Damien King?” she repeats. “Like, son of Sebastien King?”
“Yep.” I pop the ‘p’ and go for the bottle instead of the glass. “That Damien King.”
“Damn girl.” She takes a sip of her drink. “So? How was it?”
I laugh, Shauna poking my leg with her painted blue toe. “Good,” I confess. “Really good.”
Shauna presses for details and I only skim the surface before her eyes are bugging out of her head. “Fuck. He sounds even hotter than Zane.”
“You mean the Zane you couldn’t wait for me to break up with? Oh wait, you didn’t,” the words escape my mouth without me taking a second. But it’s true.
Like most of the guys I dated, Shauna always had a crush on Zane. She even acted on it the minute we fought. I’m surprised she didn’t sink her claws into him the minute I left The Grove.
She laughs, “What? The hot ones always went for you. I had to play the game the best way I knew how. Seems the hot ones still got a thing for Jo Row.”
“How do you even know about Damien? I didn’t know about him until I met him."
Her phone rings but she ignores it. “How can I not? King Financial is all through this town. They want to buy up Nelly’s Records, The Blue Spot, the library and everything between.”
“Of course they do.” I take another big glug. “They seem to think the entire world belongs to them.” Shauna’s phone rings again. I gesture to it. “You can take that.”
She’s quick to flip it over and wave it off. “Thirsty fuckboys.”
I laugh and we continue the rest of the night like we used to. Drunk, laughing about boys. I don’t even realize how late it is.
Shauna’s the one to cut things short, “Okay, it’s almost two and I have work.”
“Where do you work anyway?”
She hesitates but I blame it on the whiskey. “Just a small errand job.” Shauna takes the blanket from her legs and puts it over my shoulders before getting up.
I hear her flop in the bed in the corner.
“Shauna?” I call, cozying up on her sofa.
“No, we can’t go to The Blue Room.” Her pillow muffles her tired voice and I laugh.
“No, I wanted to thank you.” I smile, letting the whiskey calm my body as I snuggle further into the cushions.
"Yeah and I bet you'll be thanking me when you wake up with a headache."
Laughing again, I close my eyes. Body tired from our drinks.
So Shauna’s not perfect. But it seems that I do have people who care after all.
I don't know what tomorrow will bring but for now, I'm back home. In The Grove.
“Where’s the money, Little Mama?”
Zane's voice is in my head when I wake up.
When I open my eyes, his hazel eyes meet mine. "Jo? Where's the money?"
My heart is pumping and the room is still a blur. “Zane? Wh…” Shauna's room and the memories of yesterday start to move in like clouds. When my vision clears, there's a wad of cash in Zane's hands.
Zane is here. In Shauna's apartment.
He's in a green sweater, hoodie over his head. I recognize the money clip in his hand from the Acres party. His voice is gruff, impatient, “This all you got?”
My head is pounding, streams of light coming in through Shauna’s broken blinds. “Where’s Shauna?”
“Looks like she happened to be in the right place at the right time last night.” He smirks, gripping me by my shirt. “I’m not going to ask you again.”
I'm too confused to give him what he wants. "Right place? Where's Shauna?
“Just give him the fucking money, babe,” Shauna’s voice comes from behind him. “If you’ve been fucking Damien King I know you got it.”
“Tell me where it is, Jo." Zane’s hands come to my cheeks, making me stare into those lost eyes. His pupils are massive, eyes glossy. “Tell me where it is and you can go back to your rich boyfriend."
“He’s not my boyfriend.” I try to pull away but that only makes Zane get on top of me. “Get the fuck off me!”
His hand comes flying across my face and I don’t even hear the smack. I just feel the hard sting. “Is that how you talk to the people you love? The people that love you?”
“You don’t love me!” I spit, my hand on my face.
“Don’t you say that!” He smacks me again before his hands are around my throat. They’re tight. Careless and I
can’t breathe.
I try to call Shauna but I can’t, so I move my eyes, pleading for her help. She takes a cautious step forward. She sounds nervous, “Zane, you said you only wanted to talk to her—”
He snaps, “Get the fuck away from me if you want any part of what I get!”
Shauna puts her hands in the air before she grabs her purse and heads for the door. With a slam, she leaves me alone in her apartment with Zane.
“Now that we’re alone,” he says, loosening his grip. “I can take what’s mine.”
His eyes drop to my chest and I use that moment to try to push him away, kicking my foot against his stomach. I scream before I’m tossed to the ground. My back hits the unpolished wood, my head banging against something hard. The place goes fuzzy and the knock on my head doesn’t do anything for the hangover I have.
I try to crawl towards the door but his hands grip my ankles, pulling me back to the middle of the room. He flips me over like a ragdoll before he’s on top of me again, a menacing look on his square face. He unbuckles his belt, his brown brow sweaty.
Months ago I wanted the broken boy inside to love me, but I don’t know if that same person exists anymore. “Zane.” I try to reason with him again. My cheek, back and head stinging, the pressure of his body almost unbearable. “Just take the money you got. There’s over two-thousand dollars in that envelope in my backpack. But that’s all I have.”
“The deal was five thousand.” He’s breathing heavily like his airway is blocked. “You fucked up my business and you broke my heart.”
“You fucked my best friend!” I yell. “And by the looks of it, you still are. I'll never forgive you for how you treat me. Not then. Not that night. Not now."
He takes a minute to look at me, pinned under him with what I'm sure are marks on my face. Thanks to him. His eyes narrow before his fingers trace a mark on my shoulder. A mark that Damien left.
I hear the zip of his jeans before his face comes closer. “Better make this worth it. You remember us together Little Mama? Remember how good it was?” I try to push him again but his fist is in my hair. He bangs my head against the floor, “Don’t worry, I’ll remind you.”
“Zane, stop,” I’m pleading but I’m not getting through, a wisp of air passing between my legs.
“You’re not who I thought you were Jo,” he says. “And I’m going to treat you like who you’ve proven to be. I asked you for the money, and you said you don’t have it. That’s fine. But like I said Jo, gas or ass.”
SLAM!
“Zane Khan." I’m hearing his voice but I don’t know if he’s real. "If you know what's good for you, you'll get the fuck off her."
Zane looks towards the door, his arm pressed against my chest. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Zane looks at me. “Really? Did you bring this rich prick to The Grove? You really are stupid.”
When Zane gets off me I’m finally able to look towards the door. Damien’s standing there with the mark of the beast plastered on his face. He's in all black except for his white v-neck, leather jacket on his shoulders. He’s raging raw anger and it’s pointed at Zane. Though Zane’s looking at him the same way.
I push myself off the floor, too hurt and sore to move all the hair out of my face. Damien notices and starts coming towards me but Zane stops him. “And where do you think you’re going?”
Damien’s fists clench and he’s approaching Zane without a care in the world. It’s like a showdown. High noon. And I don’t know who’s going to be the one to walk away.
Sure Damien can fight with his tactics and manipulation back in Eden. But he’s in The Grove now.
“How about you settle this like a man, Khan. I’ll give you whatever it is Jo owes you and I'll triple it.” Damien takes another step closer. “I’ll even give the keys to a brand new loft. Furnished. Need a car? I got the tab. All you have to do is walk away."
Zane laughs, keeping his eyes on Damien. “The bitch had her chance to buy herself out of this one. Besides, it’s not your debt to pay, King. Now go close down a daycare or something.”
“Maybe I’ll make it my debt.” Damien takes one step further and they’re almost chest to chest.
They're locked on each other for what feels like minutes before Zane reaches for his waist.
He pulls out his gun. Metal. Black. He's pointing it at Damien’s chest, cocking it. The room blurs.
“I’ve had enough of your silly little rich boy bullshit!” he yells. “Maybe I need to send a message to all the other guys in the Fucked Up Gardens!”
“D-Damien,” I call.
“Ssh, Little Mama. I’ll handle this." Zane looks over his shoulder, tilting the gun to the side. "He won’t be able to hear anything where he’s going."
Damien’s smirk turns into devilish laughter like he's welcoming death, Zane’s finger on the trigger. “Do it,” he says. “Pull the fucking trigger you lowlife fuck.”
When Damien glances my way something in me changes. Pushing myself off the floor, I don't register where I'm going until I'm in front of that gun.
BANG!
Zane’s eyes go wide the minute a slap of cold lands on my side. I fall to the floor, Damien’s hand under my arm.
“Jo?” Damien calls. “Jo!”
There’s blood on his hand.
There’s blood on the floor.
“Fuck. No,” I hear Zane’s voice. “No. No. No...”
“Get the fuck out of here!” Damien’s voice is the loudest I’ve ever heard but the room is a blur. It’s fuzzy. And I’m cold. So cold. “Hang in there. I have you. I'm right here.” His hand lands on my face, but he feels distant. Hardly there, “Fuck. Jo? Jo!”
The room goes black.
Twenty-Seven
“This is tap water. Do you have anything bottled? Preferably from Fiji?"
The drawl of Damien’s voice is the first thing I hear when I’m stirred awake. There’s beeping around me. The bed underneath me is stiff, and there’s an IV in my arm.
“No kid,” a woman’s voice responds. “We don’t.”
“Jo?” I look to my right as a cold hand reaches for mine. His shirt is still bloody, dark hair a mess. I've seen Damien look rumpled and crumpled but never like this. The circles under his eyes are darker than ever and his hair looks like a bird's nest. But I kinda like him like this. He must see my smile because he smiles back. “You’re awake.”
“There she is!” A nurse comes in wheeling a tray of equipment. “Doctor will be right in. We have to run some tests. How are you feeling?” She turns to Damien. “Do you mind waiting outside?”
“I can wait right here.” Damien folds his arms and I can’t help but roll my eyes.
“It’s okay, I'll be fine,” my voice is a hoarse whisper.
He glances at the nurse before he drops his arms, rising from his seat pushed against the bed. “She needs anything you come to me.”
The nurse smirks, curly hair on her head kept in place by a pencil. “Yes sir.”
Damien disappears through the door and that’s when I realize I’m in my own room. It's teeny and reminds me of the cell I was in, brick walls painted white and pink.
“Your boyfriend is quite the protector.” The nurse wraps a velcro sleeve around my arm.
I want to tell her that he’s not my boyfriend. But I’m too hoarse and exhausted to. Instead, I let my head hit the pillow, looking up at the blinding fluorescent lights. The room smells like disinfectant, beeping coming from the machine to my right.
He’s not my boyfriend but he did show up for me. Damien was right there the minute I opened my eyes. That’s worth something, right? He followed me to The Grove and for an ERA elite, that’s not easy.
The nurse runs the tests and when the doctor comes in, he tells me that the bullet wasn’t in deep. They were able to retrieve it. He tells me I’ll be fine but notifies me of the recovery time and to take it easy. I ask him to reiterate that to the guy outside and he says he was already demanded to tell him.
>
On cue, Damien comes back in, leaning on the door with folded arms. The doctor looks at Damien then back at me before he nods. “I’ll be back to check on you in a couple of hours.”
“Hours?” Damien asks. “Then can you move her to a bigger room? On the top floor actually?”
The doctor looks at him, raises an eyebrow and then laughs. It’s loud enough that it echoes down the hall. “Thanks, kid,” he says between his chuckles. “I haven’t laughed all day.” The doctor continues his laughter as he gets outside the door.
Damien doesn’t take his eyes off me when he sits back in his chair. He stares at my eyes, my throat closing in again.
“Jo, I thought…” He looks down at my hand before I see him inhale, sitting up straight. “I thought I lost you.” He brings his finger along the trunk of the tree on my arm.
"You know it's not that easy to lose me.” My lips upturn. "It takes more than a bullet."
His eyes study my face like he's committing it to memory. “You mean the bullet you took for me?”
I meet his stare. He already knows the answer but I’m not sure if I'm ready to digest what happened. To consider the real reason I’m in this hospital bed. Closing my eyes, I hang on to the truth. “I—I don’t know why I did that.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Jo look at me.” He grips my hand. When I open my eyes, his grey eye is a cool, chilling silver. “I know you know.”
“Are we really doing this now?”
“Yeah. We are.”
“You’re unbelievable.” I pull my hand back. “You know, you’re the reason I came back here in the first place. To The Grove. You’re the reason I got bullied during my first couple of weeks at The Academy. You’re the reason Lea Huang is out to get me and you’re the reason I got my darkest secret spilled at the assembly.”
“I thought you were…” his voice breaks and it's startling. But he clears his throat, eyes narrowing. “Are you serious? You almost died and you’re thinking about some high school bullshit?”
“Yes, Damien! Because like all the above, you’re the reason I jumped in front of that gun!”