by T. L Smith
“Again?” he asks confused.
“I liked to think I was a rebel. Stupid, I know.” Taking a deep breath, I try not to remember the police officer coming to my school while I sat out front for hours, even after everyone left and I was the last one there. “Powerline was down, and—well, let’s just say they didn’t survive.”
“You wear his shirt to remind you?”
“Of him, yes.”
“What about your mom?” he asks. I show him the ring that sits on my finger and I kiss it. It was hers. Closing my eyes I start to count, to calm down my erratic heart that’s beating out of my chest.
“Who taught you that?”
I open my eyes when I get to ten to see him watching me. “What?” I ask confused.
“You do that a lot. You count and won’t open your eyes until you reach ten.”
I didn’t realize he noticed. No one ever notices I do it.
“Archie did. I had panic attacks as a kid. He taught me how to settle,” I whisper.
“You loved him very much.” He wipes the tear that falls, and I turn back to look at him.
“I know nothing about you, apart from who your mother and friends are. Tell me about you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Why don’t you like people?”
He almost laughs at my words. “I like you, very much.”
“When was your last relationship?” I ask him, and his eyes search mine.
“Never.”
“Never?” I ask shocked. “Okay, why did you hurt that man?”
This time he turns to look up to the ceiling. “It’s my job.”
“Your job?” I ask.
What does he mean by that? His job is the club.
“You would have heard the rumors, they’re all most likely true. We are elite for a reason, Elicea, and we’re all the reason that it is.” His eyes close for a split second before he opens them again. “Even you participate in that.”
“I would never.”
His hand reaches up and brushes my hair from my face. “You do, but that’s okay. I prefer you blind to it. I like the way you are.”
“I don’t want this, Creed.”
His hand stops pushing my hair back and he stills. My heart hurts as the words leave my mouth but they have to. Even if being with him is becoming my favorite thing, it’s also my most dangerous and stupidest thing.
“Want what?”
“This.” Pulling away from him he looks at me shocked.
“You want me to leave?” He says it in a way he doesn’t believe my words. Like what I saw wouldn’t have any effect on me. Of course, it does.
“Yes, I want you to leave, and I want whatever this is between us to end.”
He sits up. His back comes into view and I want to touch it, run my hands down it, marking him as I go.
He’s tense and waiting.
He’s waiting for me to change my mind.
“Are you quitting work, too?” His shirt slides on as he leans down placing on his shoes.
“No. Unless you want me to.” I don’t want to quit, I still stand by what I said. It’s the best job I’ve ever had. I can make a life for myself with the money I earn from the club. But seeing him every day will be hard.
“I’ll let you be.” He starts walking to leave my room and my heart stutters.
“Creed.”
His hand grips my door frame, but he doesn’t look back.
“I’m sorry.”
His back stops moving for a split second, his breathing’s stopped. But then he moves again and he walks out the door, and just as he does I lose my stomach again.
21
Creed
Ignoring her has been harder than I thought possible. Who would have fucking guessed that? Even if I know her every move, I try my best to make sure she never sees me, and so far, I’ve done just that. Not once has she seen me in over two months. I’ve avoided her on her shifts and stayed in my office like I used to before she was even hired.
No more sitting at the bar pretending to work so I can watch her. No more making excuses so I can be near her. She saw what I was and decided it was best to run the other way. It was a smart thing to do.
I don’t blame her, even if the guys do. But they don’t know what she saw, they think we just stopped. D, though, he seems to know. Even if he hasn’t voiced it yet. And Falcon’s taunts on me about her haven’t been working. I haven’t been biting because if I do, he’ll just chase her more. That I can’t have. She can’t fall for him because if she did, I might kill them both myself.
“You been doing our dealings quietly and longer than necessary, Creed.” Echo and D sit down in front of me. Elicea’s here, I know she is. I watched her as she walked in to go behind the bar. She is a beautiful fucking creature.
“Snap out of it, and fucking listen.” D slaps his hand down on the desk hard, making me look up to him.
“What?”
“Did you hear anything I just said?”
“I’m not sloppy.”
Echo shakes his head.
“D never said that. Open your fucking ears and listen, Creed. That girl has you all kinds of fucked up, and you don’t even love her. Imagine when you do.” My teeth grind hard as I watch him. He’s not one to know about love, he’s the one that gets fucked over all the time, not me.
“Am I fucking up any of our fuckups?” I question them. I’ve been taking pleasure in killing the ones who have been fucking us over. It’s been my outlet for a while now. It’s not like I can taste what I want right now, no, she’s currently having a better life now that I’m not part of it.
“No,” they both say in unison. “But you’re taking on more then you should,” D says looking at me.
“Well, our next fuckup I’ll let you kill and dispose of. How does that sound?”
Echo starts shaking his head at my words. “You need to go and talk to her. It’s been long enough. And I’m sick of your fucking attitude.” He stands, pushing his chair back so it falls to the floor when he leaves.
D leans over, picking it up and looking at me.
“You want to have a go, too?”
He shakes his head. “You’re almost better than me at this job since you’ve been ignoring her.” His lip quirks up. “And I can’t have that. I am the best. So, I agree, go and at least speak to her. Before Echo does something he shouldn’t. You’ve been an ass to everyone lately. I don’t care, I prefer it that way. It gets my work done, makes it lighter for me. But they aren’t used to you being that way. Go and fucking fix it.”
I tap my knuckles on my desk. “I don’t fix things, D, I fucking break things.”
He chuckles as he leaves. “And you do it well. But maybe this one thing—you do need to fix.” He walks out, leaving me sitting there. Looking out my window, I see she isn’t there, but Echo and Falcon are both at the bar in a huddle. Walking over, I slide in next to Falcon, who doesn’t say a word just pulls out a bottle of bourbon and starts pouring.
“He doesn’t want to talk to you right now,” Falcon says nodding to Echo who’s currently slamming too many shots down. The night is close to ending, so I look up searching for her but don’t see her.
“Stop being a bitch, I’m here, aren’t I?” Echo grunts at my words.
“El,” Falcon cheers, looking up. She stalls where she’s walking out with a bottle of alcohol in her hand. She drops it as her eyes go wide, then quickly bends down to clean up the mess.
I walk around to help her. She looks up at me and shakes her head, brushing me off as I try to do so. “I’ve given you your space,” I say standing.
She doesn’t get up, just keeps picking up the glass. “Thank you,” she whispers. When she doesn’t look up at me, I look to my left to see the guys staring at me, eyes wide in wonder. Walking away, I step out into the cold air which hits my skin. I get in my car and start driving, I need to clear my head.
Her smell consumes me, I can still smell her just from standing near
her.
Driving to the nearest bar isn’t wise, because I might kill the first person that might piss me off. So I go to the one safe place I know that can calm me down, and who can talk rationally to me all in one go: my Ma’s house.
She steps out the front door as soon as I pull up. Wiping her hand on her apron she waits for me to make my way up to her. When I do, her hands wrap around me and I fight the urge to pull back, not from her, but from the emotion that’s somehow taken hold of me. She must have put it there, it’s the only way it could have seeped inside me.
“What’s wrong?” She knows me well. Pulling away, we walk inside. I can smell her famous stew cooking in the kitchen on the stove.
“Nothing,” I answer as she brings a freshly baked loaf of bread over to me.
“I saw Elicea the other day.”
My body tenses at her words.
She carries on not noticing, “You two aren’t seeing each other? I thought you just haven’t brought her around because you’ve been busy, but she looked away when I said your name.”
“We were never seeing each other, it was just a fling.”
Ma tsks at me. “Don’t bullshit someone who got paid to sniff shit out, Creed. You know me better than that.”
“Two different directions, Ma.”
“I don’t think that’s all, it has to be more.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. If you do, I can leave.”
She places a bowl in front of me, her hand coming to rest on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, but if it’s any consolation, she misses you, too.”
I don’t reply. Instead, I eat the whole fucking bowl of food while she talks about her day.
And I try real damn hard not to think of Elicea.
But like a snake, she slithers into my thoughts.
22
Elicea
Tracey’s bitching at me. She’s angry and there isn’t anything I can do about it without risking our lives. That’s not something I’m willing to do.
“Just get me a job.”
“I tried, they aren’t hiring.” She throws her hands up in the air, swearing up at the dark sky. Billy pulls her to him and kisses the top of her head. They’re sweet, suited for each other in so many ways. I like to watch them, the way they look at each other when they think no one else is looking, or the way his hand steals hers when she least expects it. Their interactions are adorable.
It makes my chest hurt because the closest I’ve ever come to having strong feelings for someone was Creed, but that didn’t work out. He isn’t like that either. He wouldn’t hold my hand in public, kiss me when I needed it the most. No, I don’t see him being like that at all. He’s the opposite.
“This dress is too tight,” I complain, pulling at it.
Tracey looks me over, then shrugs her shoulders. “You look hot.”
I don’t feel it, I feel like I want to pull it from my skin and wear tracksuit pants because I wear this kind of stuff for work, the last thing I want to do is wear it when I don’t have to work. Tracey squeezes my shoulder. We walk into the same club we went to a few months ago when I saw Mickey here, then Creed. We have a private booth for Tracey’s birthday tonight and Billy set up a bar tab.
“I didn’t invite them, I swear,” Tracey says.
I pull the hem of my dress down as we enter. All four men are standing at the bar, my heart stops when I lock eyes with him. He doesn’t look up to me straight away like the others, but my eyes search him out first, like they're meant to. I walk over to the booth. It’s bigger than I expected. Bottles of vodka, bourbon, and gin line the table as a waitress stands there ready to serve us.
“You really went all out,” I say to Billy as I look at all the alcohol.
“I didn’t do this.”
“I’m sorry, don’t hate me. But they already knew,” Tracey says guiltily.
I stare at Tracey, confused. “You told them,” I say, my heart skipping a beat.
She shakes her head. “They knew, asked me of our plans.”
I see them walking over. Falcon’s the first to arrive. His hand casually drapes across my shoulders as he pulls me close and kisses the top of my head. Darby steps forward, passing me a small box .
“Happy birthday.”
I shake my head. Then look to Tracey, she just smiles.
“It’s not my birthday, it’s Tracey’s,” I say pointing to her.
Falcon squeezes me as Tracey steps up to me.
“We never celebrate yours. Never. We do mine every year because I love the attention.” She smiles brightly. “But this time it’s for you. No getting out of it.”
Echo hands me an envelope and so does Falcon. Sitting down, and stepping away from Falcon’s hold, I try to take calming breaths. Did I forget to mention that the sole reason I don’t celebrate my birthday is because it hurts too much? Way too much.
“What’s wrong?”
A stray tear leaves my eyes and before I can wipe it away Creed does. He sits next to me, our legs touching but he’s careful not to hold me the same way Falcon did.
“It’s also his birthday,” I say, my hand going to the necklace I put on every year for just one day. My brother’s birthday.
“You were twins?” Creed asks shocked.
I manage to nod my head and keep the tears at bay.
“I’m sorry.”
Turning to look at him, I see he is sorry. It makes it worse, trying to stay away from him. I’ve been so good at keeping my distance, even when I see him out front of my house after a shift, knowing he’s followed to make sure I get home safe. Falcon told me what he’s doing, but Falcon would never admit it to him because he likes to stir him up. Creed doesn’t care, doesn’t have any feelings. He’s completely cavalier about everything, or so he says. And a part of me believes that about him, he was molded that way.
Then I see glimpses, and I wonder if he only gives those glimpses to me.
I open the box from Darby, so I don’t get distracted that my leg is touching Creed’s or that he hasn’t moved away from me yet. Pulling it open my eyes go wide. Very fucking wide.
“This isn’t real, is it?” I ask, seeing him standing not far from me watching me unwrap it.
“Of course it is,” Darby answers like I should have known better.
Putting the lid back on I shake my head, holding it out to him. “I can’t accept this, it’s too much.”
“That’s rude. Accept it.” He turns away from me, leaving my arm dangling with the expensive diamond-encrusted bracelet in my hand. Standing up, I walk to him, reach up on my tippy toes and kiss his cheek. It makes him stop and he looks down at me.
“Thank you for the present.”
He nods and looks back to Echo. Turning away, Creed hasn’t moved. He’s still sitting in the spot I left him in. His whiskey-colored eyes track me as I come to sit down next to him. Oh, how I have missed those eyes and the way they make me feel. Like all he sees is me. It’s quite intoxicating.
“How have you been,” I ask. Reaching for Echo’s present while trying not to look at Creed, I open it and note a wad of bills. Lots of bills. I put it straight back down on the table unsure of what to do with it. Looking up at Echo, he nods his head and I smile mouthing ‘thank you.’
“I want you.”
My head spins and when I face him, he’s watching me. Intently.
“That’s—nice.” As soon as the words leave my mouth I want to hit my head on the table in front of me. ‘That’s nice?’ That’s all I can manage to say? ‘That’s nice?’ What the fuck is wrong with me.
Too afraid to open Falcon’s present just yet, I put it with the others and look up to find Tracey, who is currently in a lip lock with Billy.
“Will you dance with me?” Turning back to him he holds out his waiting hand, the same one that can play me like a fool with those magical fingers. And I let him every time.
“You know how to dance?” I ask. The waitress starts serving everyone drinks.
Not feeling
like drinking, I place my hand in his as he gets up and starts walking us to the dance floor. Pulling me to him, our hips touch and his hand slides to my lower back sitting just above my ass. He starts to rock us, not with the rhythm of the music that’s playing, instead slow and steady hip movements so I can feel every inch of his hard body against mine. My hand rests on his shoulder, and I’m afraid to move it while he holds me tighter.
“Who taught you to dance?” I ask him.
“Ma.”
I nod my head.
“She’s a powerhouse of a woman. Still is. She had to practice for all the galas she had to attend with clients.”
“I can’t imagine you being forced to do anything,” I say with a smile. Thinking of him learning to dance as a boy makes me smile.
“I loved it! Even more so right now.” Both of his hands are now on my lower back as he holds me to him. I don’t even try to pull away, there’s no point to it. I enjoy being in his arms.
“I got you a present.” I pull back so I can look at him. He doesn’t stop moving and our hips keep rocking.
“I don’t need anything,” I tell him honestly.
I don’t. Not once have I asked for anything.
“I know you don’t, but I wanted to.”
Smiling, I lay my head on his chest. I listen to his heartbeat, it’s loud and I wonder if he feels it too. This thing between us that I don’t really understand. He must if he’s standing here holding me, I hope.
“I have to steal her.” Tracey taps my shoulder and I pull myself away from Creed who’s reluctant to let me go. His hand only dropping slightly from my hip until Tracey starts pulling me away. He stands in the middle of the dance floor, dressed in blue trousers with a crisp, clean, white shirt, with his perfect tousled, yet professionally coiffed hair falling over his smoky eyes, watching me as I leave.
“What’s wrong?”
She pulls open the bathroom door, pushing me inside then locking it before she hikes up her dress, sitting down to pee. “He’s going to ask me, I know he is.”
Leaning against the wall I try to work out what she’s referring to.