Bittersweet Chronicles: Pax

by Selena Laurence

  “Well, not hooking up hooking up,” I say, correcting him.

  “Dude.” Vaughn raises an eyebrow and glares at me. I’m impressed he can do all of that at once.

  I give Carly’s hand a little squeeze. “Yes. We’ve hooked up a few of times. We don’t really have a plan—” I pause and look at Carly. “Do we?”

  She shakes her head.

  “But I think we want to…I don’t know, date. Or whatever.” I look at her again. “Don’t we?”

  She nods. Thank God.

  “Are you asking my permission to date my baby cousin?” Vaughn asks, a grin stealing the place of the glare.

  I clear my throat. Bastard has me where he wants me now. “I guess so, yeah.”

  Vaughn stands and looks at the two of us, his grin growing by the second. “Oh man, what I could do with this,” he mutters.

  I snarl a little warning, and Carly looks between us, confused.

  Finally, Vaughn throws up his hands. “All right, all right. I’ve already caught you with your hand up her shirt. I guess a date won’t hurt.”

  Carly shoves him in the gut, and he stumbles back in mock injury.

  “As if you have any say in it,” she huffs as she stomps off to the guest room.

  Vaughn laughs so hard that he falls down in the armchair, gasping for air. “Dude,” he finally coughs out. “I should have taken a picture of the two of you on the sofa. It was so sweet.”

  “Shut up.”

  He laughs a moment more then struggles to sit up straight. “But seriously,” he says. “You know she’s fragile right now, don’t you? You’ll tread carefully?”

  I nod. “I promise. We’re just getting to know each other—slow, man. But I like her. She’s great.”

  Vaughn smiles. “Yeah, it’s amazing. Her old man was a total bastard, but I think in his way he loved that girl. She’s the one and only thing he ever got right in his life.”

  “It was enough,” I respond. “It was more than enough.”

  After I update Vaughn on Lyric’s condition, he asks how my visit to the strip club went. I dropped the envelope off to Lagazo before packing up to drive to the airport in Birmingham. With everything that happened after that, I almost forgot about my side job as a gangster.

  “It was fine, he was a jerk like always, and he gave me my next assignment, but it’s not for a few days.”

  “Did he say anything to you? Give you any trouble?” Vaughn asks.

  I didn’t take him with me as planned because I’d needed him to stay at the condo and get my flight to Portland reserved. Luckily, everything at the strip club was quick and painless.

  “Nah. He noticed I was distracted and sniped at me about that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it was pretty obvious I was rushed and anxious. He just asked me what my hurry was and where I was going next. He’s a bully, Vaughn. He homes in on someone’s weakness and tries to manipulate them using it. That’s all.”

  Right then, Carly comes back into the room, her hair wet and her skin glowing from a shower. She’s wearing a tight, blue tank top and white shorts, and when I look down at her bare feet, her toenails are the same shade of blue as her top. How do girls think of these things?

  Vaughn jumps up, grabs her, and puts her in a headlock while she punches at his midsection, almost hitting something vital in the process.

  “Damn,” he squawks as he releases her, “you’re going to render me unable to father children, Carls.”

  “No one wants to have your children anyway,” she snarks back at him as she runs her fingers through her damp hair. Then she looks at me, her gaze sharpening. “What were you saying about Lagazo giving you a hard time?”

  “Nothing.” I slouch farther down on the couch. “He could just tell I was distracted last night and gave me hell about it.”

  She sits down next to me, her expression serious. “What exactly did he say? It’s important.”

  I look at Vaughn, who just shrugs to indicate he doesn’t know what she’s asking for either.

  “Well, let me think… He said something about me looking stressed then asked where I was off to in such a rush.”

  “Was that it? What did you tell him?”

  “I just said I had some family business to take care of and told him to hurry up and give me the info for my next job.”

  “And that’s it? You swear?”

  “Yes, that’s it. Everything’s fine, I promise.”

  She doesn’t look convinced, but she leaves it alone

  “And the next job is?” Vaughn prompts as he comes back from the kitchen with a glass of water and a doughnut the size of my fist.

  I glance at Carly, figuring she won’t like what I’m about to say.

  “I have to drive a delivery van to Port Oasis Friday night.”

  We spend forty-five minutes arguing with Carly about my next job for Legazo. Then Vaughn drives her to campus. She’s so mad that she refuses to go anywhere with me, and I feel like a grade-A jerk. The last thing I want is to upset her, but I’ve made the deal, and now, I have to abide by it. Honor among thieves or something like that. Lagazo gives me a job, and I do it.

  The thing she seems to forget is that I’m doing all of it for her—her future. And I have to believe that she’ll get over it once I’m done with the job and all’s well. I’ll just have to work twice as hard at getting back on her good side until then. Not really something I mind.

  After a run on the beach and a shower, I get busy preparing for my show tonight. It’s a special anniversary party at Burn, so they’ve asked five of their regulars to perform. I’m on in the middle, the third act. It’s a good slot—people will be warmed up but not so drunk yet that they can’t listen. Since this is a tribute to Burn and the music everyone is used to hearing there, I decide to go with standards. A few covers and a selection of my originals that I’ve played there many times. But as I’m putting the final touches on the set, I can’t help but let the dueling emotions in my gut take over for a moment.

  For my last number of the night, I write in “As Lush As It Gets,” the title song from the album that made my dad and his band into superstars. I normally never cover Lush songs in public. It’s like asking to have my secret discovered. But tonight, after having thought I might lose my sister, knowing that my family went through what they did in the last twenty-four hours and I wasn’t there to take care of them, I need to be close. Playing his song is the only way I know how.

  When I arrive at Burn, the second band is just walking onstage. It’s a trio, two guys and a girl. I’ve played a few local festivals with them. They have a sound that reminds me a bit of the Black Keys back when they first started out. I give the drummer a nod as I make my way to the wings of the stage and take out my guitar. I tuned up right before I came over, so I’m essentially ready to go.

  As I wait for the trio to go through their set, I get my phone out and scroll through the messages, hoping to find one that indicates whether Vaughn will be bringing Carly over. I left her a note asking her to come. I know she’s pissed at me, but I’d really like it if she could see me perform—without the distraction of Nicky hassling her like the last time. It’s always been so hard for me that my family can’t be around for my performances. Somehow, knowing that Carly doesn’t have a family to cheer her on in things she loves makes me think she’d understand how I feel when I perform.

  Performing is such a bittersweet moment. I’m at peace, I’m in my zone, I’m grateful for the opportunity to do what I love with an audience, but at the same time, the people who are the most important to me in the world aren’t here—and might never be.

  But no message comes from Carly, and when I walk onstage, I don’t see her or Vaughn anywhere in the audience. My heart hurts just a bit, and I wonder if maybe I’m putting too much stock in a few kisses and a pretty girl who needs my help. As I scan the audience, I see Nicky, my least favorite person on the planet. I don’t know for sure why he’s here, but I
’m guessing it’s to remind me that Lagazo knows where I am and is keeping his eye on everything I do. Nicky grins at me, and I grit my teeth, reminding myself that I’m a professional and I just need to put him out of my head.

  I launch into my set, and before long, I have put him out of my head along with money owed and delivery vans to be driven. Music is my soul—it gives me a sensation like nothing else I’ve ever known. I always imagine that it’s similar to the runner’s high people describe. When I’m playing music, especially in front of an audience, there is this energy—it comes from inside me and flows out, where it picks up bits and pieces of everyone else in the room before it comes right back to me. When I’m done performing, I feel like I’ve been given a new perspective, an awakening, a renewed sense of the world. It’s powerful, like a drug, and I can’t imagine living without it, which is why I’ve been willing to give up nearly everything and everyone I love to have it.

  When I get to the last song of the set, I hesitate for just a moment, awash in emotions that haven’t cycled through me yet. I’d never been as terrified as I was twenty-four hours ago when I thought I might lose my sister. I’m not sure when that feeling of dread will leave me, but it hasn’t yet. There is a heavy pain in my chest, which I’m guessing will be there for a while. It makes me second-guess my choices these last two years and helps me understand more fully what Mike was trying to tell me when I left Portland. Time marches on, and life is tenuous, precious. There are no guarantees. While I’m determined to be my own man, things at home can change, people can disappear, my heart can be broken. As long as I’m here, as long as I refuse to let my family back into my life, I run the risk that I’ll lose them forever.

  These thoughts are swirling through my head as I strum the opening chords to “As Lush As It Gets.” The words tumble off my tongue without a second thought—I’ve been singing them my whole life.

  When the world sets in, I can feel your skin,

  When the days score me, you’re where I want to be,

  ‘Cause when I get to you and I take a hit,

  The world is fine, you’re as lush as it gets.

  My voice isn’t as raspy as Uncle Joss’s, but he’s the one I hear singing in my head. I remember countless nights of sitting out on the patio at my parents’ house or around the big fireplace on Joss and Mel’s deck at their downtown condo. Mike would get out the guitar and my dad would yank the drumsticks from his back pocket, where he always carried them. Joss would settle Aunt Mel into his side and Jenny would sit next to Mike.

  Joss would start them out, and Jenny’s sweet tones would join in, the whole group contributing to the choruses. My dad would provide the rhythm on a coffee table, and if Colin didn’t have his bass with him, he’d do goofy stuff like beat box or sing falsetto until we all cracked up. They’d sing Lush songs and Jenny’s songs—sometimes, they’d work on a piece they were writing.

  I’m old enough to know now that most people would have been star struck by such an experience. To see Lush sitting around making music with one another in the comfort of their homes—millions of people would pay to see that. But to me, it was simply my life and my family.

  I finish the song, and as the last notes fade away, I look up and straight into the eyes of Nicky. He’s made his way to the front of the crowd, and he’s smiling at me. Not his usual shit-eating grin, but something darker. Something like the cat that ate the canary. He nods once at me then disappears into the crowd, leaving me with a sick feeling deep in the pit of my stomach. I’m not sure what just happened, but my gut tells me that it wasn’t good.

  A few minutes later, I exit the stage area to find Vaughn and Carly waiting for me in the back hallway.

  “Hey, man,” I say to Vaughn since Carly is still looking pretty hostile. “I didn’t think you’d made it.”

  He pushes off the wall and grins at me. “Yeah, we saw the whole set. I can’t believe you played that old Lush song.”

  I dart a look at Carly to see how much attention she’s paying to all of this. “I like some of that old stuff,” I tell him while also giving him the look that says, “Shut the hell up.”

  Vaughn turns so his back is to Carly and rolls his eyes at me. He doesn’t seem to think she might catch on to my connection to Lush. I think he underestimates her.

  “Yeah, well, if you’re going to play that stuff, you should try ‘She Snake.’ It’s a much better song.”

  Everyone who knows Lush knows that “She Snake” is about my mom, who can be, as I’ve mentioned, a little intense. That’s a nice way of putting it. The song isn’t so nice about it, and while my mom realizes that Uncle Joss wrote it as a joke, it’s still kind of a touchy subject in my house. Vaughn seems committed to doing everything he can to dig at me.

  I grit my teeth and ignore him, taking a step to one side so I can see Carly. She’s leaning against the wall behind Vaughn, picking at her fingernails, her hair hanging down so her face is hidden.

  “So, what did you think of the set, Carly?” I ask her.

  “I think Vaughn’s an ass to make me come over here. That’s what I think,” she blurts out before pushing off the wall and stomping away down the hall.

  Vaughn puts his hands up in the air. “I’m going to the bar, man. This is why you and my cousin never should have happened. You two are going to keep putting me in the middle, and I refuse to take sides.”

  Shit. I sigh and wave him off as I head down the hall after Carly. I catch up with her as she shoves open the back door to the parking lot.

  “Carly!” I call out as I barrel through the door after her. I grab her arm and tug her around to face me. “Wait a minute,” I plead. “Can we at least talk about this?”

  “Talk about what?” she demands. “I think we’ve talked about it plenty. You’re going to do this job for Lagazo, drive a delivery van full of God knows what—drugs or stolen goods or guns—probably get caught and sent to prison for ten years, and I’m going to have that on my conscience for the rest of my life, Pax. The situation was pretty clear when we talked about it earlier today.”

  I turn on the Clark charm as I softly rub my hands up and down her arms. “Come on, babe. You can’t stay mad at me about this forever. And I’m not going to get caught. I promise. I’m doing this so you’ll be free of this guy. And just think—it’s already been almost a week. Only three more to go and it’ll all be over.”

  She huffs out a breath, although she also leans into me—just a tiny bit, but enough that I know I’m having an effect on her.

  “I’m starting to wonder if you’re doing this for me,” she mumbles, “or yourself.”

  I pull her closer, wrapping my arms around her back as I bury my nose in her long, soft hair. “I just want you to be free. Free of your dad’s legacy, free of that life. I know we’ve only just met, but I think you deserve the same chance at a good life that we all do. I’ve been lucky. I’ve had love and money and lots of people who’ve given me every opportunity I could ask for. This is my way of paying it forward. I saw a chance to help someone, someone I think is pretty fantastic, and I took it. Don’t hate me for that.”

  We’re standing just a few feet outside the door to Burn, surrounded by weak, flickering light from the fixture that shines down on the parking lot. The crunch of gravel is intermittent as cars pull in and out, and from inside the building comes a sporadic drumbeat from whichever band is playing now. The air is crisp, damp from the ocean a few blocks away, but Carly’s hair and her skin are warm, and she presses against me closer, her face burrowing into my chest, her arms pinned between our bodies.

  “I could never hate you,” she mumbles before she finally lifts her face to me, our mouths mere inches from one another.

  Her breath washes over my skin, and I can’t help but lower my head, pressing my lips to hers. I savor the feeling of her slick, warm mouth as I stand there, unmoving in the cool night air. And then she shifts, and I remember that we’re out here because of the deal—the deal I made to save her. />
  I pull away a few inches, and she exhales as I do. Her slim fingers have wrapped around my T-shirt, and she clutches it even as we end the kiss.

  “So, we’re good?” I ask. “I’m forgiven for trying to help you out?”

  She buries her face in my chest again. “Not really.” Her muffled voice carries up to me. Then she steps back, releasing my shirt and leaving me chilled in the process. “I don’t want you to do this stuff for Lagazo, and more importantly, I don’t want you to do it for me.”

  “Why?” I demand, impatience and frustration seeping into my voice. “Why won’t you take my help? Why would you want to be indebted to him if you don’t need to be?”

  “Pax. I spent my whole life watching my dad in danger. People after him for money. Loan sharks, bill collectors, bail bondsmen, scorned ex-girlfriends. Every night, when I went to bed alone in whatever crappy, run-down apartment we were living in right then, I had to wonder if he’d be there in the morning when I woke up or not. I don’t want to do that anymore. I’d rather deal with Lagazo myself than have to spend the next three weeks wondering if you and Vaughn will get hurt or arrested or, God forbid, killed. Can you understand that?”

  Her eyes are desperate. She looks at me as if I possess a miracle cure for an illness she’s contracted. I want to help her, but leaving her to handle Lagazo alone isn’t the way. It never will be.

  “I understand it, but I can’t honor it. And Vaughn would never either. I’m not going to leave an eighteen-year-old girl at the mercy of a guy like Lagazo. Never, Carly. It’s just not who I am.”

  She sighs as I run a hand through my hair and kick at the gravel beneath our feet in frustration. My heart is racing, and I feel the anger coming on. Not at her, but at this whole mess, at the kind of people who would go after her like this in the first place. At the kind of parent Carly’s old man was.

  I turn away from her, leaning my palms against the concrete block wall of the building, my elbows locked, my face tipped down at the ground, which is so inadequately lit that all I can see is a gray blur.