“So, you wouldn’t be okay with going back home?”
“Like, home home? Like Oakland home?”
I nod.
“Fuck no. Why would we do that?” he asks, seemingly offended that I even brought it up. “We’re both finally doing good. I have friends. Ones who’ve never even been to jail,” he deadpans. “I have a shot at college.”
I almost start crying again, knowing how much he really has going for him here, and how much it would kill me to have that taken away. College wasn’t even on his radar before. Just knowing that he’s considering it is huge.
“What is this about? The money? Because I can pick up an after-school job. Coach might even let me work for the club.”
“No—well, yes and no. There just aren’t any homes or apartments available to rent. I thought I had something, but it fell through. We’re shit out of luck unless we can swing twenty-five hundred a month on rent.” I was hoping to find something for half the price.
“So, what? We go back to Mom’s? Pretend we didn’t send her ass to jail and go back to living life in the fucking hood?”
“No.”
“No? What the fuck else can we do, Lo?”
“There is one other option,” I hesitate, not knowing how he’ll feel about it. “Dare wants us to move in. We’d pay him rent and have a written agreement with him. And it would only be temporary.”
Jess sits back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.
“I’m for whatever the fuck keeps us here.”
“Yeah?” I ask, still not sold. “You sure?”
“I’m not going back, Lo. This guy…you say he’s legit. If your fairy fucking godmother wants to help, then why the fuck not?”
“I’ll think about it.”
* * *
IT’S BEEN FOUR DAYS SINCE I threw out the offer, and I haven’t heard a word about it since. The first two days, I figured she was just thinking it over, but now, I’m wondering if she’s just trying to figure out a way to tell me she’s leaving.
At least I know she’s not staying in a house with no heat. I pocketed the past-due invoices from Henry’s the night I busted Eric’s car up and paid them the other day. Lo told me the power was back on, but she never asked if I had anything to do with it, and I never told her.
I haven’t had a chance to fuckin’ breathe this week. My books are jam-packed with appointments. Tourist season is in full swing now. Between that and Lo working over at Blackbear, we haven’t seen each other in the past few days, except in passing. Even when she comes in, we’re both so busy that we don’t get anything other than stolen glances.
My phone vibrates from my pocket. I pull it out to see a picture of Lo waiting for me. A picture of Lo’s tattoo, more specifically. She’s on that pathetic excuse for a bed at Henry’s, legs bent, showing off the curve of her perfect ass. She’s wearing those knee-high socks she likes. No pants. No underwear. Her shirt has ridden up, exposing fingertip-shaped bruises in various stages of healing that go with the scratches down my back and teeth marks on my shoulders. My dick is instantly hard, which is unfortunate, seeing as how I have a girl in my chair who’s eyeing my lap like it’s hard for her.
“You ready?” I ask dryly. This chick has taken approximately eighteen cigarette breaks, two phone calls, and one pee break for a tattoo of a dreamcatcher that should’ve taken thirty minutes, tops.
Once I’m finished with my client, I excuse myself to the drawing room. I’m still fucking hard, and I’m half-tempted to rub one out right here and now to the memory permanently seared into my spank bank of the last time we were in here together. I was helping Lo get dressed, but I ended up eating her pussy. I hadn’t even meant to do it. It was instinct. Completely involuntary. Then I was surprised, yet again, when Lo dropped to her knees and gave me the best head of my life.
I sit at my desk, dick threatening to bust through my jeans, and tap out my reply to Lo.
Me: Are you teasing me, Sally? I want to see that in person.
Me: You know, to make sure it’s healing properly.
Lo: Day after tomorrow, unless seeing a bunch of sweaty, half-naked men is your idea of a good time.
Me: Come again?
Lo: Jess has a wrestling match. Going to Sac.
I debate on taking her up on her non-invitation. Crowds, family outings, and events, stuck with people in a confined space for an hour and a half drive…all things I avoid like the plague. But for some reason, I find myself willing to do just about any-fucking-thing to get my fix.
Me: Count me in.
* * *
“FUCK,” JESS SAYS UNDER HIS breath, rousing me from sleep. I lift my head from his shoulder and rub at the kink in my neck. I didn’t mean to sleep almost the entire way home. I was exhausted after a long day of driving and watching Jess wrestle. That shit was an all-day event. Then Dare and I did a little wrestling of our own in the back of his truck late last night.
Dare drove separately so he didn’t miss work. I was surprised he wanted to come at all, but he did. It was fun to see Jess out there, doing his thing. I don’t know the first thing about wrestling, but I do know he won all three matches and looked happy doing it.
We went out to some Mexican restaurant afterwards, and I sat back while Dare, Henry, and Jess shot the shit, thinking how crazy it was that this is my life now. Two months ago, if you would’ve told me I’d be enjoying a meal with my brother, my dad, and my new boyfriend, I’d have thought you were as high as my mother.
“What is it?” I ask groggily, before my eyes land on the ball of purple curled up on the porch. I’d recognize that jacket anywhere. “Shit.”
“Crystal’s back.”
“Son of a bitch. This isn’t gonna be pretty,” Henry says, throwing his Jeep into park.
“How long has it been since you’ve seen her?” I ask. I always wondered if Crystal ever tracked him down. He left me his phone number, but I tucked it away, never once showing it to Crystal.
“The day I left.”
“You okay, Jess?”
“Fine,” he says, shrugging, feigning indifference.
We all hop out, stopping in front of Crystal’s slumped over body.
“Think she’s dead?”
“Nah. I’m not that lucky,” Jess says, nudging her with his foot. Crystal stirs, lifting her head. Mascara is smudged down her face, and her wrinkles look even more pronounced than before. She looks around, probably trying to figure out where she is. She rubs her eyes, and I see when the confusion clears.
“My babies!” she yells, and her pack-a-day voice grates on my nerves already. She stands, stumbling, and moves to hug us. Jess catches her arm before she makes contact, and we both take a step back. Hurt flashes in her eyes briefly, but she conceals it just as fast.
“Henry,” she breathes, looking up at him like he hung the moon. “It’s been a long time.”
“There’s a reason for that, Crystal.”
“Come on, guys. Don’t be like that.”
We step around her, and Henry unlocks the door.
“Got room for one more?” Crystal asks, not waiting for an answer. She follows us inside, looking around the place. Not one of us speaks. We know her game by now. But Crystal is an expert at avoiding social cues.
“I can’t believe my family is back together again,” she says, bringing a hand to her mouth as the crocodile tears start. My mom was beautiful once. But then drugs and life happened.
“Go home, Crystal,” I say, shaking my head, quickly losing patience.
“Oh, I see how it is. You guys find someone else to take care of you, to give you a place to stay, and all of a sudden I’m chopped liver?”
“And there it is,” I say flatly. Jesse exhales, throwing himself down onto the couch. Henry grabs himself a beer from the fridge, probably wishing he had something stronger right about now.
“I know I fucked up, but what mother doesn’t?” Her speech is slurred, and I know she’s high on something. “I’ll be bette
r, Logan.”
I don’t respond. I don’t even look at her.
“Jesse?” she pleads, looking to him for acceptance, but she doesn’t find it there, either.
“I can forgive you for sending me to jail, but you can’t forgive me? Un-fucking-real. I did everything for you two!”
This is it. This cycle right here. Cry, beg for forgiveness, lash out when she doesn’t get her way, and repeat. My anger bubbles inside me, threatening to boil over.
“You forgive me?” I ask, my voice deathly calm and quiet. “What exactly should I forgive you for? For letting your boyfriend beat on us? For being a fucking junkie? For abandoning your children with no money or food for months at a time? Or maybe it’s for fucking my boyfriend after you sent me to the store to buy you smokes. Oh, or maybe I should forgive you for stealing Jesse’s brand-new bike just to pawn it?” My voice rises with each question, my face inches from hers. “Should I forgive you for chasing away our father? The only fucking halfway normal person in our lives?” I shout, pointing toward Henry.
Crystal surprises me when she cackles, her eyes lighting up with glee. I don’t trust it. She looks at Henry. “You didn’t tell them why you left?”
“Crystal. Don’t,” Henry warns.
My stomach twists with nerves, and I just know whatever comes next isn’t going to be good.
“They deserve to know.”
“Get out. Now,” I say between clenched teeth. Jesse stands, suddenly interested in the conversation.
“Deserve to know what?”
“Don’t pay any attention to her. This is what she does. She’s jealous of our relationship with Henry and she’ll do anything to sabotage it. Isn’t that right?”
“I am your mother!” she screeches. “He isn’t even your dad!”
What? I hear the words, but it takes a minute for my brain to catch up. Jess staggers back, as if he took a physical hit to the gut. My eyes dart to Henry’s in question, and the guilt tells me all I need to know.
It’s true.
Henry isn’t my father.
Before I realize what’s happening, Jess snatches the keys off the coffee table and shoves his way past Crystal. I hear the 4Runner start, and I run outside after him, but he’s already gone.
“Jess!” I scream after the taillights glowing red in the night sky.
I run back inside. “Give me your keys,” I demand, holding my palm out. “I need to find him.” Henry hesitates for a second before dropping them into my hand.
“Kid—” he starts, but I cut him off.
“Don’t. Just don’t. Make sure she’s gone before we get back,” I say, tossing a look at Crystal who is now crying with her matted, blonde head in her hands.
I can’t think about what this means right now. I can’t think about how I feel. My only focus is finding Jess. I run out into the cold night air. It’s snowing now, which only adds to my worry. I jump into Henry’s truck, leaving him and Crystal to hash it out inside.
I don’t even know where to start. I try his school first. Don’t ask me why that makes any sense in my brain. The parking lot is completely empty. Next, I try the two restaurants that are still open—still nothing. I drive by a few bars. Jess might just be dumb enough to try his luck. Nothing.
My panic grows by the minute, fingers tapping restlessly against the steering wheel. When he stormed off in Oakland, I didn’t worry. I knew where to find him. But this…this feels different.
This is what I was afraid of. And it’s my fault. I dragged him out of the city, threw him into Henry’s life, they bonded, and now…this. Poor kid is never going to trust again.
I call Dare, hoping he’ll answer. He said he was stopping by Bad Intentions before going home, but he left before us, so I don’t know if he’s still there. It rings three torturously long times before he picks up.
“Lo?” Confusion paints his tone. I don’t usually call him.
“I can’t find Jesse.” My voice sounds shaky and panicky to my own ears.
“What do you mean? What happened?”
“Fucking Crystal,” I answer, as if that explains everything. “He has the 4Runner. Are you at work? Do you see his car outside anywhere?”
There are a few bars, including Blackbear, in that area.
“I’m here. I don’t see it out front, but I’ll drive around.” I hear him moving around, and then a second later, the sound of his engine starting.
“He doesn’t know how to drive in this weather. The windshield wipers don’t work for shit, and the tires…they’re not good in the snow—”
“Calm down. It’s just a little snow. Jess will be fine. We’ll find him. Do you want me to come pick you up?”
“No, I think it’s better to split up.”
“Okay,” he says after a long pause. “Are you okay?”
“Henry’s not my dad,” I say softly, and Dare curses under his breath.
“I’m sorry, baby.” And it’s not sympathy. It’s empathy. Because if anyone knows how it feels, it’s Dare. But on a much larger scale.
“I’m sorry,” I say, regret lacing my tone. “I know this doesn’t even come close to what happened to yo—”
“Hey, don’t compare tragedies. It’s okay to be upset, Lo.”
I wouldn’t call it a tragedy, but I appreciate him in this moment more than he’ll ever know.
“I’ll let you know if I find him,” Dare says. I thank him and hang up the phone, racking my brain for places to search. I drive around for another hour without luck. I wish I knew his coach’s number, or even where he lived. Maybe he went there.
My phone lights up with a text from Dare.
Dare: No luck. Anything?
Me: No. I’m going to go home and see if he went back. Get some sleep.
One of us should.
Dare: I’m going to go home to pick up my phone charger, then grab a cup of coffee. I’ll come to you.
There he goes again, making me feel all supported and shit. My chest physically aches when I think about all he’s done for me. For us. Everyone in town seems to be intimidated by him. Even he thinks he’s some kind of monster. But he’s never been anything other than an angel to me. My broken boy. Doesn’t he know he’s not really broken at all? It’s everyone else who’s flawed.
When I get back to Henry’s, Jess isn’t there. But fucking Crystal is. And she’s wearing a bath towel. I throw my hand up in her direction, looking to Henry for answers.
“Don’t look at me. She won’t leave.”
“So call the cops. I’m getting real good at that,” I say, fishing my phone out of my jacket pocket. “You’re on probation, right?” It’s an educated guess, but her reaction tells me I’m right.
“Logan, sweetie—”
“I know you told Eric where we were, too. I’ve always known you were selfish, but damn, Crystal. Do you have to make sure everyone else’s lives are as pathetic as yours? You couldn’t just let us have this?”
“I was helping you!” she screeches. “That man loves you, and he has money. He could take care of you for life. You’re an idiot to pass that up.”
Fucking typical.
“This may come as a shock to you, but to most people, there are more important things in life than money for your next fix.”
She opens her mouth to respond, but I hold my hand up to stop her as my phone, still in my other hand, vibrates with a text from Dare. I see the two words that have me sagging in relief: He’s here.
He went to Dare’s.
He went to Dare.
* * *
I KNOW SOMEONE IS IN my house the minute I open the door, even though I don’t see anyone. I walk into the kitchen, noticing an open cabinet, then wet footprints leading to the back door. I open the sliding glass door to see a shirtless Jess, nursing a near-empty bottle of Jack in my hot tub.
This is going to be a long night.
He stares ahead, unmoving. I shoot a text to Lo, letting her know that I’ve found him before pocketing my phone.
I brace myself for the angry, drunken mess Jess is sure to be. I know because looking at Jess is like looking at myself ten years ago.
“Up we go,” I say, leaning over the stairs, lifting him underneath his armpits. Kid is solid and drunk, which equals dead weight. I finally hoist him up out of the water, only to realize he’s butt ass naked.
“Ah, what the fuck, man,” I say, averting my eyes.
I lead him down the steps, keeping a healthy distance. He drops the bottle of Jack, glass shattering at our feet. I try to lead Jess away from the glass, but he walks across it, unfeeling. Uncaring. Once inside, he sits his naked ass down on my couch, and I run upstairs to grab him a towel and some clean clothes.
“Put these on.” I toss the clothes next to him. He doesn’t move, head bent, cradled in his hands.
“Come on, man. Get dressed.”
He finally listens, moving slowly. Facing away from him, I call Lo.
“Is he okay?” are the first words out of her mouth. I scratch at the back of my neck, putting some more space between us.
“He’s fine. Drunk, but fine.”
“Thank God,” Lo says, letting out a relieved breath.
“There is one problem, though.”
“What?” Lo asks, like she’s afraid of the answer.
“Jess is here…but the car isn’t.”
“Of course, it isn’t. That would be too easy.”
“Do you want me to bring him to you?”
“I’m coming to you now. Henry’s dropping me off. I don’t think Jess should be around either of our parents right now. And I use the word parents loosely,” she adds, probably for Henry’s benefit.
“Okay. We’ll look for the car in the morning.” It must be around two a.m. by now.
We hang up, and when I turn back, Jess is dressed—thankfully. I hand him the coffee I bought on the way over and sit down next to him, unsure of what to say. I think about how I’d feel if the situation were reversed. I wouldn’t want anyone to say a damn thing to me, especially in his state. So, I don’t speak at all, content to sit in silence unless he breaks it first.
Bad Intentions (Bad Love) Page 20