by Lex Martin
A smirk tickles the corner of my mouth, and I can’t resist thrusting a sword through the one spot where I know he’s weak.
“Oh, you and I both know I can do much better, Caleb.” Butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth when I smile.
Seeing the smirk fall apart on his face is small comfort, but any comfort is better than nothing. I won’t be seeking out August anytime soon. I can’t. Not feeling stained and smudged and shamed the way I do. Rationally, I know what happened to me was not my fault, but shame doesn’t reason.
Where I’ll go, I don’t know yet. Caleb’s a demon constrained to hell with chains of gossamer. It’s a fragile exile I’m making for myself, but I’ll l take it and run for shelter while I can. And if he breaks free, I’ll run again, maybe for my life.
I slip on oversized sunglasses and a hat to cover my bruises, looking like a Lifetime movie cliché, I’m sure.
In the lobby, Lo holds Sarai in her lap. She looks chic, her long braids tucked into a snood. She wears skinny jeans, a leather blazer, and ballet flats. Caleb rushes past me, headed for Sarai. Before I can put myself between them, Lo points a slim finger at Caleb and squints one eye, as if she’s peering through a telescope. I wonder if she still sees the shadow on his soul because I may not have seen it then, but I can attest that it’s there. There’s latent power in her eyes, in the strong, slender arrow of her arm aimed at him.
“You’ll have to pay,” Lo says.
Caleb breaks stride, like her voice sprouted tentacles that slithered through the air and locked around his ankles. Something ominous hangs around Lo, and goosebumps pepper my skin.
“What the hell are you talking about?” he mumbles but doesn’t step closer.
A knowing grin blooms on Lo’s pretty face, and she opens her fist, revealing her gris-gris ring.
“These are your days.” She blows over the ring, eyes clinging to his face. “Scattered, and lost, and falling to the ground like dust.”
“Are you threatening me?” he asks, only half-laughing. I bet if I peeled his sleeve back, his arms would be covered in gooseflesh, too.
“No. A threat you see coming.” The smile drops from Lo’s face. “It’s not a threat. It’s real justice, and by the time it reaches you, it’ll be too late.”
Caleb pales under his tan, but while he stands there, no doubt considering the cryptic message Lo delivered, I rush past him and scoop Sarai into my arms. He approaches, but Lo interjects herself.
“Walk while you can, Caleb,” she says, her words in a lower register that sounds laced with danger.
With one frustrated look at me and Sarai, he moves on. The breath trapped in my lungs releases in a rush. His father and Maury emerge from the conference room, their heads bent together. They glance at me, and I don’t know if it’s pity or respect in Maury’s eyes, but I’ll take either as long as it means he executes the papers and keeps Caleb away from me.
“So what now?” Lo asks.
“What was that all about?” I ignore her question.
“What was what all about?”
“Um, the powerful voodoo priestess act.”
“I don’t act,” Lo says with a humorless curve to her full lips. “I am.”
Twilight Zone.
“Where will you go?” Lotus asks, redirecting me, distracting me.
“I need to go somewhere far from Caleb,” I answer in a rush. “Somewhere he doesn’t know about and can’t get to. I need some time without him in my life at all. Time to heal, I guess, because right now I just feel so . . .”
I can’t articulate how I feel. Hurt, but numb. Lost. What do I do now? Next? Where should I go? I have to find my place.
Center.
I’d play you at the five. If you were mine, you’d be at the center of my life.
August’s words filter through tiny gaps in the barbed-wire fence surrounding my heart. That could be my place. Instinctively, I know August would put me at the center, but one could argue I was Caleb’s center, too. A dark, twisted center with the sides closing in and choking, but the center nonetheless. What if I’ve misjudged August as badly as I misjudged Caleb? Hell, as badly as I misjudged myself?
I need time to find my place in this world without anyone else at the helm. As much as I feel for August, I need to stand on my own. I need to do what’s best for my daughter and savor life and freedom and everything we almost lost.
“I know where you need to go,” Lo says as we step outside the hotel and onto the sidewalk.
“Where?”
Lo hooks her arm around my neck like she did when we were kids.
Hopscotch.
Gratitude overtakes me, and I blink tears away. She came. I called, and Lo came. She hasn’t condemned me or called me a fool for not calling sooner. The closeness between us didn’t fade when she moved to the bayou. It didn’t wash away when Katrina came, and I moved and Lo stayed. And it didn’t budge when Caleb came between us. Not really. The closeness never moved. I did. I hid behind my anger and shame, and now it’s all exposed. The light breathes grace on me.
“It’s so obvious where you should go,” Lo says.
“If it’s so obvious, then why don’t you enlighten me?”
Lo kisses Sarai’s forehead and then mine. I swear when she looks up, I feel a hot, sultry breeze tease my hair, hear the distant sound of jazz, and taste a harvest of rich flavors on my tongue.
“Where you belong, Iris,” Lo insists softly, “is home.”
August
“Did she say anything else?” I ask, carefully molding my mouth into a normal-looking, I’m-not-a-stalker smile. “Tell me again what Iris said.”
Sylvia sends me a long-suffering look over the clipboard pressed to her chest. The same look she’s been giving me the last few days. When Iris didn’t show the day after Caleb came, I was worried but didn’t have a way to reach her. I started bugging Sylvia then, and have been bugging her ever since, but it’s only today that she has any answers.
“She called to apologize for missing the last two days of camp but said she had to leave town unexpectedly and wouldn’t be back.”
“It was her?” I demand. “Or was it Caleb delivering the message?
“Like I told you the first three times you asked, it was Iris,” she says impatiently.
My harmless smile slips a millimeter. That was not the answer I wanted to hear.
“Isn’t that unusual?” I lean against the wall in the community center hall, my attempt at looking casual. “I mean, Iris shows up every day to volunteer and then just calls to say she’s leaving town and won’t be back. Are you concerned?”
“No.” Sylvia knits her brows. “Why would I be concerned? Concerned how?”
“Well, that she’s okay.” I rein my frustration, remembering how Caleb swept in and ruined everything. The rage in his eyes.
“The woman had a bodyguard.” Sylvia’s wry smile does nothing to ease my concern.
“Yeah, well the bodyguard’s creepy as fuck,” I say bluntly, abandoning any semblance of calm. “And Caleb looked . . .”
Unhinged. Enraged. Dangerous.
The thought of him hurting Iris somehow is driving me crazy. Why did I not get her damn number . . . again?
“Look, I’ve seen where she lives,” Sylvia says, her voice dry and void of sympathy. “I’ve seen the car she drives, her ring, her clothes. She was being very well taken care of, let me tell you.”
“What the hell does that have to do with her safety?” I demand, through gritted teeth.
“Safety?” Sylvia asks with a wry smile. “Really, August? You think Caleb did what? Hit her? Hurt her? He can be arrogant, high-handed, but he’s crazy about her. If anything, I feel sorry for him if she’s left. He’s probably devastated.”
Someone up the hall calls Sylvia’s name, and she turns away from me briefly to answer before giving me her attention once more. “I have to go,” she says, sighing heavily. “Thank you for helping us. The kids loved it.”
“Yeah, I l
oved working with them, too.” It’s the truth, but right now I can’t focus on it.
“She’s gone, but she’s fine, August.” Sylvia pats my arm as if I’m a cat who should drink the milk set in front of me and leans in to whisper, “There are lots of other girls out there.”
After delivering that humiliating pearl of wisdom, Sylvia scoots down the hall without a backward glance.
Outside, I spot Jared parked on the street. When I ease into the passenger seat, he watches me warily . . . wearily? Maybe both. He’s handling me with caution and also tired of my ass.
“No answers?” He taps his thumbs against the leather-wrapped steering wheel.
“The wrong answers.” I shake my head, still trying to make sense of it. “Sylvia says Iris called to say she was leaving town and wouldn’t be back.”
“Well then that’s that,” Jared says. “Hooters for lunch?”
“Dude, this is serious.”
“Maybe she’s left Caleb. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
It’s only half of what I wanted. I also wanted her to come to me. And Sylvia may be satisfied with this incomplete picture, but I’m not. I won’t be until I hear it from someone who does know what the hell is going on.
I flop my head back against the seat and side-eye Jared. “I need a favor.”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m gonna ask.”
“Oh, I don’t?” He shoots me a look that is both disgusted with me and satisfied with himself. “Then why’d I already call the Stingers’ training facility to see if Caleb’s scheduled to work out today?”
I grin and pull on my seat belt. “This is why I keep you around.”
“And because I chauffeur your ass everywhere.” He pulls away from the curb and glances at my leg. “At least temporarily. How’s the leg?”
“Good.” It’s actually hurting like a motherfucker today, but I don’t want any lip from Jared about me overdoing it. I need my brother right now, not an agent.
“I’m taking you because I knew you wouldn’t rest until you got some answers,” Jared says, looking away from the interstate only long enough to catch my eyes. “But don’t get into shit with him, Gus.”
“I’m not,” I say defensively. “I’m just gonna make sure Iris is okay.”
“Oh, yeah. That won’t infuriate him at all.”
“Ask me how many fucks I got for that,” I snap. “Sylvia made Iris seem like some gold-digger who should just be happy she has a roof over her head.”
“Well . . .” Jared shrugs. “I mean, he did take care of her.”
I boil in scorching silence. Is Caleb some kind of warlock? Does he cast a spell so everyone misses what a complete asshole he is? He just skates through life without consequences. I saw it while we were growing up over and over. Son of a bitch breaks my fucking leg in front of the whole world, and he doesn’t even get fined.
And I’m not just saying that because he has Iris and Sarai.
Had Iris and Sarai. Maybe.
“In and out,” Jared says, breaking into my hostile thoughts.
“Huh?” I look over at him questioningly. “What’d you say?”
“We’re here.” He points through the window to the building where the Stingers train. “Find him, ask your questions, and get out. No fights. No scenes, bro.”
“I really hate it when you call me ‘bro,’” I say, matter-of-factly.
“I know. Why do you think I do it?” He studies me closely, the little bit of humor on his face fading. “You need me to come with you?”
“No, I needed a chauffeur, not a chaperone,” I say, climbing carefully out of the car. “Be right back.”
It doesn’t take me long to find Caleb. He’s pressing weights, spotted by a tall, lean man wearing a Stingers T-shirt. The guy looks up, his eyes widening when his eyes lock on me. Everyone in the league knows how bad the blood is between Caleb and me.
“Hey, you can’t be in here bec—”
I wedge myself between the trainer and the bench where Caleb is lying down. I grab the bar from Caleb’s hands and place it on his neck enough to cause discomfort but keeping the full weight from pressing down.
I bend over so he sees me upside down.
“I’m only asking you once, Caleb,” I say calmly, while his eyes bug and he starts to turn red. “Where is she?”
“He can’t breathe!” the trainer guy says, sputtering and pointing.
“That’s kind of the point.” I nod to the exit. “Get out. We got shit to settle. I promise he’ll still be in one piece as long as he cooperates.”
Caleb manages to shake his head, his eyes latched onto the trainer dude’s as he puffs air and claws at the bar I hold over his throat.
“I said, get out!” I yell at the indecisive trainer. He’s still looking back over his shoulder until he disappears through the exit.
I lift the bar just enough for Caleb to breathe and talk, but not enough that I can’t drop the full weight on his throat if he doesn’t give me what I want: answers.
“Fuck you,” he hisses, the blood vessels sprouting around his eyes.
“Wrong answer.” I drop the bar a little more, and he immediately starts gasping again. “I will break your fucking windpipe, Caleb, so I suggest you answer the question I already told you I would not ask twice.”
I lift the bar an inch, and his arms fly up, trying to dislodge me. I can hear Jared now if I actually fight this dude with my leg in its current state. Not to mention the insurance the San Diego Waves have on my body. I’m pretty sure there’s not a brawl clause in the multi-million-dollar policy. I step away and let him breathe while I compose himself.
“Answer the question,” I snap.
“What business is it of yours?” he rasps, sitting up and grabbing his water bottle to guzzle.
“I’m making it my business. Iris didn’t show up at the center, but Sylvia says she called to say she wouldn’t be coming back.”
He pauses mid-sip, narrowing his eyes at me. “Really concerned about finding another man’s girl, huh?”
“Not here for games, dude. Tell me what’s going on.”
He stands, mopping the sweat from his face with a nearby towel. “What is ‘going on’ is that she’s gone.” Bitterness corrupts the line of his mouth. “Iris left. Didn’t take her phone, so good luck calling it.”
I’ve seen Caleb with Iris—the way his eyes track her every move like he might miss something if he looks away. He would not just let her go. He’s as obsessed with her as I am.
Almost.
“Left and went where?” I persist, irritation pinching the muscles in my face.
“No idea,” he mutters, watching me down the length of his water bottle while he gulps. “She wouldn’t tell me.”
“And Sarai? You don’t know where your own daughter is? How to reach her? Them?”
Caleb turns away from me, shrugging while he sorts through the items in his duffle bag. He’s avoiding looking at me. This is some shit, but I can’t get to the truth. It’s like a puzzle with all the pieces on the table, but I can’t see how they fit together. I know I’m missing something. There’s a question I should ask or something I don’t know, and somehow, he’s hiding from me. Caleb is covering his ass, I’m sure, but why would she go along with him all this time? And he’s fine with her just leaving him?
Leaving him.
“You two broke up?” I ask, keeping my voice steady.
The way to Iris is actually clear for the first time since we met. He throws a piercing look over his shoulder at me, his smirk a forced lift of his lips when his eyes don’t smile at all.
“We’re not together anymore,” he replies. “But she doesn’t want to be found by anyone.” He turns to face me now and crosses his arm over his chest. “And that includes you, West. Did you think because she gave you a few minutes in the closet you meant something to her? You didn’t.”
A practiced smirk lifts one corner of his mouth.
�
��She has my money and my kid, so I guess she doesn’t need me anymore.” He shakes his head. “Who would’ve thought I’d let some swamp whore from Louisiana trap me? I suspect that Creole bitch even gave it up to my bodyguard while I was gone.”
I lunge for him, ignoring the twitch in my knee and slam him to the wall, then pin him by the throat.
“You’re a liar,” I grit out, tightening my fingers around his neck. “Say it again and I’ll break more than a leg, you entitled son of a bitch. You’re not good enough to touch her.”
“But I did touch her.” A demon’s smile teases the corners of his mouth. “Oh, I’ve touched her everywhere you’ve never gotten to. Fucked her in all the ways you’ve only dreamt about, and to top it all off? She had my baby.”
He cocks a brow, regaining his arrogance by the second. I hate his handsome face, his blond hair and blue eyes and tan skin. I hate everything outwardly appealing about him because inside he’s crawling with worms.
“Write her off, West,” he says. “She’s gone. She got what she needed, and now she’s gone.”
Iris is not like that. I know she’s not, but why didn’t she try to get in touch with me? If she’s gone . . . after what happened in the closet? Would she just leave without even saying goodbye? Without telling me how to find her? Was I that wrong about what we had? Maybe I’ve been misreading this woman since the night we met. I just knew that what I felt, she was feeling, too.
You’re not fooling yourself.
She told me that. Her whispered words spark again in my memory, and all the feelings, the sensations, the perfection of those moments in the closet with her flood my mind. I wasn’t fooling myself. I don’t know everything that’s going on, but there’s one thing I hold onto even as I exit the training facility and Jared and I pull out of the parking lot.
I’ll see her again.
That thread that connects us, glowing neon, it’s still there. I may not be able to see it, but I feel it. It’s still wrapped around me.
Wherever Iris is, I hope it’s wrapped around her, too.
HALFTIME
“She remembered who she was and the game changed.”