by JB Salsbury
It’s as if he’s been through this before, heard the alarm and knows the drill. And beyond my close call with death, that’s what saddens me most.
People hate what they don’t understand, shun those who are different. When my mom lost her ability to walk, stand on her own, when her hands were curled in on themselves like gnarled tree roots, the looks people gave her were unforgivable. They assumed her mind was gone, that she wouldn’t notice, but that’s the thing about ALS; her body fell apart and her mind was fully aware of every fucking second of it.
Lucas can’t help who he is, what he’s become, and yet he’s forced to live in exile, unable to form relationships, fall in love, have a future that consists of someone outside himself.
I wonder what Lucas is doing now, if he’s missing me or grateful I’m gone.
I roll to my side and my eyes fix on a warrior kachina my mom gave me when I was young. Its vibrant black and red face is dull with a light coating of dust and the eagle feather headdress is muddied with age and no longer displays the brilliant brown pattern. Holding a bow in one hand and an arrow in the other, he still appears fierce, prepared for battle.
She told me he was a protector. A great warrior who would keep me safe.
She was wrong.
The carved wood holds no more power to protect me from pain than I had to keep my mom on this earth.
Stupid Navajo myths and their ridiculous promises.
If only my mom were here now. She’d tell me what to do about Lucas. Why don’t I just let him go?
There’s something about him that’s impossible to walk away from. Like an injured boy being held captive by his abuser. But Gage isn’t his abuser; he’s his warrior kachina. His real-life protector made of muscle and bone and capable of inflicting damage on anyone who stands in his way. Pushing anyone who has the potential to hurt Lucas away, but also everyone who has the potential to love him. If I want to spend time with Lucas, I need Gage to stop seeing me as a threat.
I don’t know how to convince him I won’t hurt Lucas. But I suppose pain to them is different than it is to me. It’s possible I’ve been hurting Lucas this entire time and not even known it.
So many questions tumble around in my head, but in order to get answers, I have to see Lucas and, worse, risk triggering Gage.
If that happens, do I trust him enough not to hurt me?
Would I bet my life on it?
* * *
I wake with a start. A firm hand on my shoulder shaking me.
Oh no, he’s back!
“No!” I thrash and kick. “Don’t touch me!” My fist connects with something soft.
“Oomph!” My bed dips. “Fuckin’ hell, Shy. You didn’t have to hit me.”
Cody?
I blink open my eyes and the room is dim, but there’s sunlight from behind the curtains.
“What time is it?” I rub my eyes and try to calm my racing heart. “What’re you doing here?”
He works his jaw around a couple times, wincing. “It’s almost noon, Merryweather.” His expression grows dim and he sets his dark eyes on me. “Some assholes broke into the McKinstry house last night. Fucked it all up.”
I sit up. “What?”
He shakes his head. “Yeah, probably a bunch of kids. Anyway, the security company called and I told Dad I’d come check it out. He’s gonna stay up there one more night, come back in the morning.”
“Why didn’t security call me?”
“Said they tried, didn’t get an answer.”
I rub my forehead. Shit, that’s because I was being drowned by the alternate identity of the guy I kinda like. “Damn, I’m sorry, Code. I can go down there and take care of it and you can head back to the lake.” I swing my feet over the bed, but he stops me.
“Nah, go back to sleep. I got it. Got a guy coming with me. Between the two of us, we should have it done in no time. Besides”—he stands and peers down at me—“you look like shit.”
I throw a pillow over my head and shove my middle finger into the air.
“Dad said you’re working at Pistol Pete’s?”
“I am. Which is why I need my sleep.” I shoo him away with my bird-flipping hand.
He chuckles. “Sweet. I’ll see you there. No way I’m missing my big sister serving a bunch of drunk-ass mountain dicks. What time…”
The bed dips again and the sound of the curtains over my bed being opened make me want to throw something at my brother. “You said I could sleep. Shut those—”
“Gotta go, my guy’s here.” The bed bounces and his heavy footsteps retreat.
His guy is here? I didn’t hear a car pull— Oh no!
I spring from my bed and rip open the curtains. He must see the rapid movement from his leaning position on my brother’s truck, because his eyes instantly find mine.
Lucas.
I want to smile, wave, do something friendly, anything to wipe that blank look from his beautiful face. A chill races up my spine and the sting of inhaling cold water still burns in my nose. He cringes, as if he can read my thoughts, and his expression goes from blank to hurt. My arms long to comfort him, but I shake my head, slide closed the curtain, and drop back into the safe, warm cocoon of my bed.
Walk away from it all, Shyann.
Get the hell out of this town and never look back.
Lucas
I can’t pull my eyes away from the window. As if I stare at it hard enough I can get Shyann’s face to reappear. Not that I need to actually see her to see her. Those light eyes, all that black hair, and those lips star in every dream I’ve had since we met. Every time my thoughts wander off, she’s there waiting.
I’m obsessed.
Consumed.
Totally infatuated.
But that look, her lips pulled into a tight line, jaw set, and eyebrows pulled together. That’s the face from the window, the hurt that twists her gorgeous features, and I put that hurt there.
“Yo, Lucas!” Cody jogs from the front door of Shyann’s house to me. “Thanks for helping me out.”
“No problem.” I clear my throat. “What happened?” Mind off the woman inside and on the project. Stick to work, professional relationships only, don’t get too close.
He jerks his head for me to climb into the truck. I do and he follows, firing up the four-wheel drive and pulling away from the house.
“Guess they vandalized the place.”
My eyes stay glued to Shyann’s window, hoping like an addicted junkie I’ll get one more hit before we pull away. Not even a rustle of the curtains.
“We’ll check it out, call Austin if we need to.”
I drag my eyes away from the window and turn to him. “The sheriff?”
“Yeah, we’ll need to file a report.”
I swallow hard, nerves making me break out in a sweat even in the sixty-degree weather.
Would Shyann call the cops on me after what happened last night? I don’t know the details, but she was wet, scared, and almost naked. God, what did Gage do to her? I swear if I could I’d confront him and beat him senseless.
I rub my temples, amazed still, even after all these years, how crazy I sound.
If it barks like a dog…
“Headache?”
“No.” Just regret.
“That won’t do.”
I stare at him, confused.
He chuckles. “Just sayin’, dude your age, single, you should be hungover as hell on a Saturday morning. Friday nights are for booze, your bros, and hoes.”
“Oh…” I open my mouth to tell him I was out last night and kissing his sister. With tongue. But I think better of it and keep my mouth shut.
“Tonight. We’re going out to a bar. You need to loosen up.”
I shake my head, the idea of being at a bar with Cody making me want to throw myself from the truck. “No thanks, I don’t—”
“Nope. I won’t take no for an answer. You’ve been here two months. How many times have you gone out?”
Only one
that I know of, thanks to Shyann. “I haven’t.”
He jerks his gaze to mine. “What? But you decked that Dustin prick at the bar the other night, right?”
“Oh, right. So once.” Thanks a lot, Gage.
He lifts a brow. “One time in two months? What the hell is wrong with you?”
You don’t want to know. My skin breaks out in a sweat and I roll my window down to free myself from the suffocating cab.
“Whatever, I’m dragging you out tonight.”
“I don’t—”
“You’re going, if only so I can buy you a beer for helping me out on a Saturday.” We pull onto the job site and already we can make out the jagged peaks of broken glass in the windows.
“Fuck me…” He throws the truck into park with force. “Punk assholes.”
We move to the front door and he pulls the key from his pocket. I’m hoping the kids who did this just needed a place to hide and drink for the night and the damage is left to the windows.
One foot through the threshold and our feet are frozen to the unfinished floor.
The entire place is destroyed.
Holes the size of basketballs punched through drywall, insulation hanging from some of the bigger ones, and spray paint. Everywhere.
“Dammit to shit, those fucking pricks!” Cody storms through the house, ducking into bedrooms and releasing string upon string of curses, giving away the devastation lying within.
I move into the kitchen, the cupboards ripped from the walls, electrical wiring pulled and cut. I run my fingertips through a slash of black paint. Dry.
“Dude, come check this out!”
I head back to the master bedroom where I find Cody staring at a wall.
His eyes are filled with anger and they dart to mine. “What the fuck do you think this means?”
The black words are spray-painted in thick letters from one end of the room to the other.
DIE RETARD
I stare blankly at the wall and shrug. “No idea.”
“I got a bad feeling, man.” He pulls his cell from the pocket of his jeans. “This doesn’t seem like your typical high school prank.” He punches out a few numbers and presses the phone to his ear. “Hey, Austin? Yeah, we’re at the house.” He turns around in the space, shaking his head in disbelief. “You can try, but there’s gonna be fingerprints all over this place from our crew alone.”
My heart races. Fingerprints. If they run mine, my entire past will come up. What will they do if they know where I’ve been? I push that thought away and remember I’m a free man. I only have one thing to hide, and as long as I keep myself out of trouble, that shouldn’t be too hard to do. If Shyann keeps my secret.
Twenty-One
Lucas
Tonight is the coolest night since I moved here. As soon as the sun dropped, there was a chill in the air and even a distant rumble of thunder. Lightning slices through the sky to the north, warning that a storm is coming.
I secretly hope for a downpour, a flash flood, anything that’ll cut short my night out with Cody.
I squint and balance the wood just right on my thigh while I drive the chisel into the timber, slowly and delicately carving out small pieces that will soon become an elk. With the flashlight balanced on the banister, I’m able to work out here until late.
After spending almost six hours at the McKinstry place, cleaning up the mess of fingerprint dust and destruction the vandals left behind, my hands are already aching. I flex my fist a couple times just as headlights blast through the thick darkness. Tires crunch on gravel until Cody’s truck comes into view.
He rolls down the window. “Come on, man! Jump in before it starts dumping out here.”
With a heavy sigh I’m glad he can’t hear, I grab my things and put them inside, making sure all the windows are shut to keep the rain out. I grab my hoodie sweatshirt and my baseball hat. The more cover the better chance I have of melting into the background tonight.
The first few drops of rain fall as I pull myself into Cody’s truck. “Hey.”
“I hope you’re ready to let loose, man.” He grins wide and for a moment I see a tiny bit of Shyann in her brother. It’s in the pull of their lips, the way they— “Whoa, dude. Don’t look at me like that. This ain’t a date.”
I sink deeper into my seat, hoping he can’t see the embarrassment blaring on my face.
He floors it down the dirt road, and as we pass Shyann’s house, I force my eyes forward, refusing to look for her truck, to see if her lights are on. Now that Cody is home, she’s not mine to take care of. His job to keep her safe.
Protected from people like me.
The truth slices through my gut, and although I don’t usually drink alcohol—my boozing experience consists of peer-pressured moments in group home and the aftermath of Gage’s nights out—I’m thinking that maybe a couple drinks tonight are needed. The numbing effect will help take the edge off the emptiness of missing Shy. Mourning the death of the dream I’d stupidly allowed myself to indulge in. Maybe the liquor will help erase the memory of her fear as she scrambled from my touch. Just one night I want to squelch the ache of the truth. I’m a monster; she deserves better.
It doesn’t take long before we’re jogging through the rain toward a barn with the name PISTOL PETE’S in neon and the twang of country music filtering through the sideboards.
The double doors open to a crowd of people and a stage where a band plays and a man sings about his love of the South. I keep the hood of my sweatshirt pulled over my baseball hat while we move through the crowd. The space confining, people brush up against me, but I keep my eyes to the backs of Cody’s legs and refuse to acknowledge anyone.
The room gets quieter the farther we head back and when Cody finally stops at a pool table, I look up. The majority of the hundred-plus people in here are around the stage, so except for a few other guys shooting pool, it’s just us.
I shove back my hood and push my hands into the pockets of my sweatshirt.
“You any good?” He motions to the pool table.
“I’m all right.” One of the group homes I lived in had a pool table. I wasn’t interested in the extracurricular activities most of the other kids engaged in, so I spent a lot of time playing.
His gaze moves over my shoulder. “Great, I’ll rack ’em.” He moves around the table, the entire time keeping his eye on the crowded bar.
I head over to the wall behind him and pick out a pool stick. Staying busy at the table will make this night easier than I thought.
“Oh shit, there she is.” The teasing tone in his voice makes my skin prickle with awareness.
I’ve heard him use that tone before. But only with one person.
As much as I want to whirl around and search her out, I don’t. I keep my eyes firmly planted on the multicolored balls set up in a triangle on the green pelt.
“What the fuck?” His stick slams against the table edge.
My gaze jumps to his.
His lips curl back in disgust and his tall frame locks down. “What the fuck is she wearin’?”
Unable to avoid it any longer, I turn and— “Whoa,” I whisper.
“Shyann Blue Eyes Jennings, get your ass over here now!” Cody’s anger projects across the room, and even though Shyann doesn’t turn to him immediately, her shoulders bunch at the sound of his voice.
He storms around the table just as she squares her shoulders and whirls to meet him, but something stops her dead in her tracks.
It takes me a second to figure out what it is because my eyes are glued to the healthy section of exposed skin around her belly button. I want to watch her legs move under her tiny skirt, see the soft flesh of her thighs rub together, but she’s not moving.
My eyes dart to hers and she’s staring right at me. I cringe at the way her muscles tense upon seeing me.
She blinks, a combination of shock and fear playing against her features.
I need to turn away, give her space to— I gawk at her breas
ts, which are pushed up and nestled in cups of black lace that show through her thin white shirt.
Cody rushes to his sister, pulls her closer to the pool tables, and glares at a few other guys playing as they stare at her appreciatively.
“Shy, what the hell are you doing dressed like…like…Sam?” Cody stands in front of her, using his body as a wall against, well, everyone.
Everyone but me.
“I…um…” Her eyes dart to mine, and I can tell she’s searching for something in my expression. She dips her head to attempt to peek under the bill of my ball cap. “I’m working.”
I know what she’s looking for, so I hold her eyes for a few seconds until she visibly relaxes.
“Hey, Lucas.”
“Shy.”
She flashes a shaky smile and even that tiny show of affection has my chest warm and my lips aching to press against hers. Is it possible to be obsessed after one kiss? To get a single taste of her mouth, her warmth, and know if it were feasible to get it every single hour of every single day it would never be enough?
“Your tits are showing,” Cody hisses under his breath. “Lucas, back me up here.” He points to Shyann’s chest.
I make the mistake of following Cody’s finger and am reminded of how she felt pressed to my body, how she clung to my shoulders as I explored the sweetness of her mouth.
Her cleavage rises and falls quicker, and I blink up to find her face flushed.
“I think you look…” I lick my lips and push my hands deeper into my pockets. “Really pretty.”
Her eyebrows drop low as if my words upset her.
“Are you out of your fuckin’ mind?” He reaches over and tugs up Shyann’s T-shirt by the shoulders, only to make the bottom half slide even farther up her belly. She smacks his hand away. “Dammit, Shy!”
“This is the best way to make money here, Cody. Now order a drink or leave me alone.” She waits, and when he answers her with a scowl, she cautiously peeks over at me. “I didn’t expect to see you here…” Her mouth gapes like there’s more to that sentence, but she slams it closed.
“Never expected to see you either.” My fingers burn to pull her to me, to bury my face in her neck and beg for forgiveness, promise I’ll do better, try harder, all while drowning in her scent.