Once inside my bedroom, I stopped in the middle of the room and turned in a slow circle. I saw everything, but didn’t really see anything. I sat on the edge of the bed, forcing myself to take deep, even breaths as I rubbed my hands on my tights.
Pressing my hands to my face, I covered my eyes and opened my mouth. I screamed but there was no sound. It hurt nonetheless, ripping apart my throat.
I tried to process what just happened, but all I could think about was Jayden walking up to my locker my second day of class. He’d tugged Paige’s braid, called her a ghetto Katniss and then talked to me like he’d known me for years. All I could think about was Jayden in the car the first day of school. I could hear his laugh and if I breathed deeply enough I was sure I could still catch the earthy scent that clung to him.
I wouldn’t see, hear or smell any of that again.
Gone. Forever.
I didn’t understand.
He’d said he had different goals now and he was finally listening to his brother and Rider.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“Mallory?” Rosa’s voice was closer, at the top of the stairs. “You didn’t answer...” She appeared in the doorway, her eyes widening. “Mallory!” She rushed into the room. “Dear God, what happened?”
I stared at her for a moment and then looked down. I yanked my hands off my legs. The tights were stained, soaked a dark red. “Oh my God...” I must’ve knelt in Jayden’s... My stomach turned.
“Mallory.” She clasped my chin with cold fingers, tilting my head back. “What happened to you? Your face? Are you okay?”
In a distant part of my brain, I realized that this was the most panicked I’d ever heard Rosa. She was always so calm and collected. Always so in charge, but she was touching me, smoothing my hair back from my face and she sounded like I felt inside. Out of control.
“Talk to me, honey.” She knelt, grasping my hands and turning them over. The skin was raw and red. “Tell me what happened?”
I shook my head. The physical pain I felt was nothing. “I... Jayden is dead.”
“What?” She blinked, and only then did I realize that she didn’t know about Jayden. Not by name. “What are you saying?”
I met her dark gaze and the words tumbled out. “They shot him. He was walking across the parking lot and they pulled up in a car and they just— They just shot at him—shot him. He was standing there and then he was gone.” I shook my head. “I don’t understand. They just drove up and started firing. He is—he was only fifteen, Rosa. He was...”
“Oh, God.” She smoothed her hands down my arms. Several moments passed before she spoke. “How did this happen?” she asked as she lifted my hands.
“Rider. He...tackled me.” I looked down at my scuffed-up palms. “My hands slid on the road.” I swallowed, staring at the bright red scratches. “Pieces of rock were flying everywhere.”
“You were with Rider? Where is he now?”
I shook my head. “He’s with Hector. That’s...that’s Jayden’s brother.”
Rosa gently tugged me up. “Start from the beginning, and tell me everything.”
As I spoke, her jaw hardened. She led me into the bathroom and turned on the tap. She had me sit and she was silent as she cleaned up my hands and cheeks, much like I had done the day Rider had come to the house. The same people who had hurt Rider had most likely been the ones who did this...who had killed Jayden.
The peroxide stung, but I sat still. At some point, Carl stuck his head into the room, but Rosa waved him away. When she was done, she gathered up the cotton balls and tossed them in the trash.
She knelt in front of me again. “Why don’t you get cleaned up? Leave the tights in the hall. I’ll throw them away.”
I nodded.
Her gaze searched mine and then she hugged me tight. “I’m so sorry about your friend and that you had to experience that.” She pulled back, leaving her hands on my shoulders. “I’m so very sorry. And I’m so very glad you’re safe.”
My lower lip trembled.
Rosa held my gaze as she rose and for the first time ever, I heard her voice shake. “This—this is why Carl didn’t want you around Rider. This was why.”
Chapter 31
Rosa’s parting words echoed as I showered and quickly changed. The sweats chafed a patch of skin on my left knee, but I ignored it as I walked into my bedroom. Picking up my bag, I unzipped the side compartment and tried calling Rider.
No answer.
Opening up the text screen, I typed out: are you okay? The message zipped through and underneath it showed delivered. I waited. No answer. I turned sideways, brushing my damp hair back from my face. I shouldn’t have left Rider. I should’ve stayed with him—with Hector. I couldn’t have helped either of them, but I could be there for them.
Except I’d left.
I’d done what I was told, like always, and I left. I wasn’t sure if leaving had been right or wrong. I glanced down at my phone and started to call Ainsley, but stopped. I didn’t know how to tell her what happened, especially with everything she was going through.
I sat down on the bed and I didn’t move. Minutes turned into hours. The sky darkened outside the window. I lay down, holding the phone close. My head was strangely empty except for a low buzz, like it felt when I had a head cold. I must’ve fallen asleep, because when I blinked, sunlight was cutting through the blinds. Tiny particles of dust danced in the streams. Mouth dry, I sat up and looked away. I stared at the closed door, knowing I’d left it open yesterday. For a few minutes I couldn’t remember exactly why there was this horrible churning in the pit of my stomach.
Jayden.
My body jerked as I twisted at the waist, scanning the bed for my phone. There! It was between my pillows. I dug it out and hit the screen. No missed calls or texts.
Staring at my phone, I told myself that the reason Rider hadn’t called or texted was that he was with Hector. Reassuring me wasn’t his top priority. I understood that, but fear blossomed in the pit of my stomach, and nausea rose. Rider was okay. There was no reason for him not to be. The fear gave way to bone-deep dread.
I threw my legs off the bed and rushed out into the hall, into the bathroom. Closing the door behind me, I dropped to my knees and retched. Nothing came up. Not really. I dry-heaved until my ribs ached, and I sat there, breathing heavily.
Slowly, painfully, I stood and grabbed my toothbrush. Turning the water on, I brushed my teeth and then washed my face, wincing when the cleanser and hot water hit my cheeks. When I looked up, I saw my reflection. Tiny marks splattered my cheeks. Shadows were painted into the skin under my eyes. My hair was still a little damp from sleeping on it wet, and at the moment it was the color of wine, and going in every other direction. I pushed away from the sink and walked back into the bedroom. Each step felt immeasurably slow.
Nothing felt... Nothing felt real as I picked up my phone again.
“Mallory?” Carl called from downstairs. “Can you come down here?”
I clenched the phone in my hand and hurried down, finding them both sitting at the kitchen table. I slowed as I approached the island. They looked like they hadn’t slept much the night before. His gray shirt was wrinkled. Stray hairs escaped Rosa’s short ponytail, fanning her face like little fingers.
“Why don’t you come sit down?” Carl advised gently. Coffee mugs sat in front of them and the scent was heavy in the air.
Sensing that this wasn’t going to be a conversation I wanted to stick around for, I stayed where I was.
He looked at Rosa and then continued. “How are you feeling?”
I thought...I thought that was an incredibly stupid question.
“I know what you just saw was a lot to deal with. A lot, and Rosa and I both wished you would never have to experience something like that again.”
Again?
Then it hit me. How could I forget? He was talking about Miss Becky. Besides the dull eyes, this was nothing like finding Miss Becky in her b
ed, long dead and cold to the touch. I didn’t know the specifics, but her death had been peaceful compared to Jayden’s. Her death was nothing like Jayden’s.
“And we know that right now is a tough time,” Carl went on, and I blinked, wondering if I’d missed half of what he’d said. “But this conversation can’t wait.”
“What...?” I looked between them as I placed my phone on the island. “What can’t?”
“Rider.” Rosa picked up her coffee mug. “We need to talk about Rider.”
My brows flew up. “Why?”
“I think it’s pretty obvious,” Carl stated, his tone gentle but firm. “What happened yesterday—”
“Has nothing to do with Rider,” I interrupted.
Surprise flickered across Carl’s face and then was gone so quickly I wasn’t sure I actually saw it. “I’m going to have to disagree with that.”
“Both of us are,” Rosa joined in. “You would never have been anywhere near that neighborhood if it weren’t for Rider.”
“What’s wrong with that neighborhood?” I demanded, and Carl raised his brow. “Yeah, it’s not the greatest—it’s not the Pointe or where Ainsley lives, but it’s not the worst in this city.”
“It’s not a good place, Mallory.” Carl folded his hands around his mug. “Now, I know you haven’t seen a lot of this city, but we have. We—”
“I have seen the worst shit this city has to offer and it has nothing to do with the neighborhood.” Anger flashed through me, bright as the sun, and I vaguely realized that I hadn’t paused once while speaking. I was too—too pissed to care.
“Mallory,” warned Rosa. “Language.”
“My language? I saw someone get shot—” My voice cracked. “I saw a friend die yesterday and you’re blaming Rider for this?”
“We’re not blaming Rider,” Carl replied. “We just don’t think your friendship with him is the best thing for you right now.”
“I’m not his friend.” My hands curled into fists. “He’s my boyfriend.”
Carl muttered under his breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mallory...”
“What? You know he’s my boyfriend.”
“Yes, but...” He looked at Rosa helplessly.
“Look, honey, we of all people are not the type to judge, but Rider is not the kind of people you need to be involved with.” Rosa set her mug aside. “That’s what we’re trying to say.”
I stared at her, dumbfounded. “What kind of people are you talking about?”
“The kind who has no future. The kind who doesn’t even care about the fact he has no future planned.” Carl’s tone hardened, and I flinched. Was that what they thought of Rider? “The kind that takes you to a neighborhood where fifteen-year-olds are shot in the goddamn street.”
My mouth dropped open.
“Carl.” Rosa reached over, placing a hand on his arm.
“No. We trust you to make smart decisions, but we don’t trust him. We’ve been tolerant enough with this whole Rider business because we knew what he meant to you, but we are drawing a line with this.” His cheeks flushed a ruddy color. “You could’ve been hurt yesterday or worse. That is unacceptable and I will not go through this again.”
“It’s not his fault!” I shouted.
Rosa blinked, taken aback. Not in the four years I’ve been with them had I ever raised my voice or talked back to them. “We know it’s not his fault, Mallory, but that doesn’t change what happened.”
“Okay, let’s talk about Mr. Stark.” Carl’s eyes flashed. “What is he planning to do once he graduates—if he graduates? Spray-paint cars for the rest of his life?”
My skin flushed hot. “What’s wrong with that if he did choose it? He’s good at what he does. And he is brilliant.” I itched to pick up something and throw it. Not only because of what I was hearing, but because Rider did give off that impression to people. To everyone. That he didn’t care, but he did. Now I was...I was pissed at them and him. “Rider has a future.”
“He hangs out with people who—”
Rosa squeezed his arm, stopping him from finishing his sentence. Carl looked like he was about to throw up his hands. “I’m not trying to upset you, Mallory, but he’s not good—”
“Don’t say it.” I lifted my hand and my finger trembled as I pointed it at them. “He made sure I was safe yesterday and he was there for me before you all even knew I existed. He was the only person there for me, and just because he thinks he’s not cut out for college, you think he’s not worthy?”
“Mallory.” Carl’s eyes widened. “I know Rider has been there for you. I know what he did for you, and I’m not discounting that, but that doesn’t change what happened yesterday. This isn’t just about your past together, or about college. I know the kind of people he spends his time with. I know how these stories end.”
I wasn’t stopping now. A cap had blown off me. Pent-up emotion broke free. Everything that happened yesterday. Everything that had happened the last couple of months, the last four years—an entire lifetime. Tears burned my eyes. “Rider is good people. So is Hector. And so is—so was Jayden. Just because they don’t have money or don’t live in a house like this doesn’t make them bad people.”
“We know that.” Rosa stood, shaking her head. “Neither Carl nor I come from money. You know that. It has nothing to do with money.”
“Then what does it have to do with?”
“He’s not good for you,” Carl repeated.
“Why?” My voice became shrill to my own ears. “Just because I’m not agreeing with everything you all are saying? He’s to blame for that?”
“You saw someone get shot and die because you were with him!” Carl’s voice was as sharp as a blade.
“It’s not his fault!”
“You can make better choices than this, Mallory. Smarter choices,” he argued. “You have your entire life ahead of you, perfectly laid out. Don’t throw it away. Don’t throw away everything, because you’re making a mistake.”
I stiffened. No way did I consider Rider a mistake, but God, I was bound to make mistakes. It was going to happen. I wasn’t perfect.
I wasn’t perfect.
Something deep inside me clicked into place. Rosa and Carl knew I was far from perfect. They had to know I’d make mistakes. That I needed to make them. Wanting to be perfect for them no longer held the same power, because I couldn’t be that. My shoulders straightened. “If it turns out to be a mistake, then...then I’m okay with it.”
Looking away, he rubbed his palm down his face. “We never would have had to have this conversation with Marquette.”
My jaw unhinged as I jerked a step back. Hurt rolled through me, fanning my anger like wind did to a fire. In the four years since they’d taken me into their home and their lives, I’d never heard them say something like that, at least to my face.
“Carl,” gasped Rosa.
“I didn’t ask...” I drew in a shallow breath. “I am not her. I will never be her.”
He lowered his hand and then his head swung to where I stood. The color faded from his face. Regret filled his gaze immediately. “Mallory—”
“I’m not going to make her decisions,” I said, hands shaking, and it all just came out again. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in a lab. I don’t want to do anything in the medical field. I’m not perfect like her. I don’t want to be.”
Rosa placed her hand to her chest. “Honey, we—”
Done.
I was so done with this conversation that I didn’t even need words to tell them that. I didn’t need to be lectured right now. I didn’t need to hear anything they were saying. I needed to be with Rider—be there for him, like he’d been there for me so many times in the past. The rightness of that struck me hard.
It was my turn to take care of him and to be the strong one. The one who held it together so he could fall apart a little. I was not going to shatter and rely on anyone to piece me back together.
I was d
one.
Spinning around, I left the kitchen and darted upstairs. Once inside my bedroom, I slammed the door shut and then whipped off my loose shirt. I threw open a drawer and rooted around until I found a bra and then a tank top. I grabbed a hoodie and pulled it on over my head. I yanked my hair back in a loose knot as I walked over to my bed. Shoving my phone into my bag, I slung it over my shoulder and then pivoted. I headed out of my bedroom as I dug my keys out.
I took the steps two at a time and when I hit the foyer, Rosa appeared. “He didn’t mean it.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I walked straight to the door.
She followed. “Where are you going?”
The Problem with Forever Page 36