Unknown: Hey. I’m alive. You’re beautiful.
Ember: So glad you made it. Who is this?
Unknown: Your knight in shining armor? Someday, I hope anyway. As it stands, you kinda saved my life.
Ember: You could still be anyone. I have very busy days.
Unknown: *chuckling smiley and a winky emoji*.
Ember: *Middle finger emoji*
Unknown: It’s Lock. I had to beg quite a few people to get this number. Ember? Right?
Ember: *Middle finger emoji*
Lock: I’m sorry. Is this the wrong number? You have to forgive me. I met the most beautiful girl the other night. But then I died. Probably because she’s so hot. I’ll text every combination of every number until I find her.
Ember: You’re dramatic. But I’m really glad you lived.
A line of dots popped up and down while he typed. My heart rate quickened.
He was determined. How the hell had he gotten my number? Nix would be pissed. I said a silent prayer that Lock wasn’t sending me a dick pic. That would really, really mess with the vibe he was laying down.
A picture sprang to life. I looked through my lashes. Upon closer inspection, I was very relieved it wasn’t a penis. It was what seemed like a handful of daisies.
Lock: I’m going to put these in water and I’d love to give them to you before they die.
I felt my nose wrinkling. That kind of sweetness hit me right in my girly parts.
Ember: That sounds more like a threat than a promise.
The reply took even longer. Then I had a video. Again, the dick pic fear made my finger hesitate, but I pressed play anyway.
It was his face, illuminated in blue from his screen. His face was beat up, mostly on the right side. I remembered how his hair felt under my fingers. He grinned into the camera and sang a really off-key version of “Unforgettable.”
Then another video popped through almost immediately.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sent the song. Maybe it’s the remnants of the concussion? Don’t judge me yet. Not on that. You wanna Facetime? Too soon? Can I get a date? I mean, is that allowed? Just tell me where to find you and I’m there.”
He was wearing a baseball cap backwards and took it off during his monologue. I saw a hint of his dimples while he talked. Only this guy would be flirting while looking like an extra in a zombie movie.
I hopped out of bed and flicked on the light. I messed up my hair a bit and put blush on my cheeks. After sliding back under my covers, I hit record on the video.
“I don’t date strangers and I don’t Facetime strangers. How are you feeling, anyway?” I hit send before I could come to my senses and squealed after it was done.
I waited for his response with butterflies in my stomach. There was something about him. Dangerous, but safe somehow.
I hit play on the video the moment it appeared. “Ember. I see you, girl. Prettier than I remember, which seems impossible. Lord, you are gorgeous. You in a dorm at Harmony Hill? I’ll be by as soon as I can this week. We can get to know each other so I’m not a stranger. And then I can get that date. Sleep tight, sexy.” He gave me a wink and a kissy face.
“Cheese Ball.” I knew not to respond to that last one. It would be giving him too much. I looked around behind me before I noticed that my tank top had given me away. I’d bought it before lunch after getting my books and digital codes. “Harmony Hill College” was printed in bright yellow letters across the maroon fabric. I’d given him a clue. Though, if he had my phone number, he had enough leads on me to find me I bet. How determined was this guy? I’d been in town less than a week and he’d tracked me somehow. Nix would blow his stack.
Chapter 8
Lock
I GOT DRESSED IN the morning, trying to look as sharp as I could. I even dipped into my dad’s closet and snagged a tie. Rhy clapped when she saw me, and even though I was all business in my head, I had to stop to hug her. Mom was helping her eat. She was doing well. I checked the plate. There were usually apple slices on there with breakfast. I looked from the plastic plate to my mom; she shrugged. Fresh fruit was expensive. It hardened my resolve. I kissed Rhy and my mom on the top of their heads. As I locked the door behind me, I had to step over a basket of muffins someone in the building had made for Mom and Rhy. The neighbors pitched in where they could. Their kindness just made me more determined.
I was fixing this. Not entirely sure how. But today. Dice was ready to meet me, but pissed it was so early in the morning. I wound my bandana around my wrist while Dice and I rolled up to Booker’s place. It was an apartment building that was in good condition. He rented out some of the apartments. Mostly it was a place to do business for the Cokes.
The men at the front door gave us a ration of shit. I didn’t even know how many people were pissed at me for getting them a beatdown. I was guessing the ones with facial lacerations were the first to suspect. I got a few hisses and “Here, kitty, kitty.”
I pretended not to hear them. I was made of metal. For my girls.
I went in the elevator and gave Dice a look. Dice was a good friend, but certainly not a best friend. This could be a trap. A setup. I knew my pulse was banging away at my throat. The elevator door opened and we were frisked by the goons there as well.
It was a horrible fucking life. I was betting anyway. Surrounded by all these shitbags. Well, not all of them were shitbags, but we all started out in the neighborhood and evolved into the soldiers that we were now. Two more pat-downs and one very violent frisk and the door was opened.
Booker was dressed in a suit. It was clear he was projecting a certain image, but there was something...off about him. Like a kid picking from his grandfather’s closet. I smoothed my father’s tie and realized I was the last person who should be judging.
“You’re an asshole. For starters.” He stood and put his hands on his hips.
“That’s fair,” I responded and tried to look tougher. I wasn’t sure if I should shake his hand or just stand there like a dung pile. I held out my hand and Booker barked out a sharp laugh, ignoring my offer. I dropped my hand.
The scene was odd. The setting was clearly aspiring to be an office. But it seemed more like a yard sale. There was an odd assortment of bulk food. Soda, chips, and crackers. Clothes were hanging off of furniture. There was a black bedspread covering the two windows. But he had a desk and chairs set up for meetings.
Booker had to be thirty. He had tattoos on his fingers and neck, but he wore them well. They were old enough on his body that they seemed to be seeping into his skin instead of decorating it. His shock of blond hair was dyed that way. There were pictures on the walls of various men and teens. The frames were all a little crooked. It was unnerving.
“My niece was in the process of being attacked by our very own. And you stopped it. I have one very important question for you. And you need to tell the truth because it will tell me everything I need to know. And I will eventually know everything, so spare us both the time.”
I swallowed and nodded. I had a feeling I was about to lie.
“Did you know Keely was family?” He waited with the patience that likely got him to the top and kept him alive.
No, I didn’t know jack about his niece. I was stopping them as best I could because I couldn’t live with myself if I saw a girl hurt like that. Should I lie or not?
“I suspected something like that. Family resemblance.” I shrugged.
“She’s adopted.” Booker’s face was a mask, unreadable.
“Oh.” I put my hands into my pockets. “Well, no then. I didn’t know.”
I could see Dice flinch out of the corner of my eye.
“Shit, I told you I’d figure it out. She’s not adopted. But you’re a fucking liar. Tell me why you threw down after getting jumped not even twenty-four hours earlier?” I thought I saw Booker’s left lid twitch.
“’Cause it wasn’t a fair fight. And I don’t treat females like shit.” I tossed up my hands. I fucked it al
l up. Now Dice and I were going to die and who the hell knew what would happen to my mom and sister.
“You goddamn dumbass. Why you lying to me then? I told you to speak the truth. I don’t give a shit how much trouble you’re in. To get here, to stay near me, you gotta tell me everything. You got a pimple on your dick? I need to know. You got family in Detroit? I need to know.” Booker got close. Real close. In the personal bubble close. From his breath, I was guessing he had some sort of spicy sausage meat for breakfast. “You feel me?”
I nodded. Because I got it. Tell him everything. Which I wouldn’t, but I’d nod all day long if I had to.
“You got to promise. You’re a tough fucker. Hard to kill, have something to prove. Weirdly righteous about shit. I have a sense about people. And I think you’re either a diamond in the rough or a huge mistake. But I like to gamble. Do you?” He got even closer. I could count his cavities if I cared to.
I didn’t.
“See all these freaking pictures?” Booker waved his hands, gesturing at the walls around us. “These are the people I’ve had to kill.”
He pointed to a tiny part of the wall; it was blank except for a group of naked nails. “And that’s where I’ll put the pictures of the people I kill next.”
He stomped over to the desk in the room and shuffled through some stacks of frames. “Here you fucking are.” Booker tossed the frame at me. I caught a picture of my own face. It was lifted from my Twitter profile. Dice caught a picture as well. I glanced to see that he had a picture of himself. He gave me a very dirty look.
“You come here, I make you hang your picture, then I kill you. The last thing you do is this. Decorate my fucking office.”
It made sense why the pictures were all crooked now. My blood ran cold; I was holding a prepared makeshift gravestone with my own face on it.
“You could hire a decorator. I mean, save some lives.” I smiled and held out my photo so he could have it back.
Booker set his lips in a long, flat line, not taking the picture. We stood, contemplating each other for a few heartbeats before he burst out laughing, his guffaws heaving hot breath over me. “Son of a bitch. We’re gonna have to take bets about how long I can put up with you.”
Dice was giving me cold death in a stare. Clearly, he thought I was taking risks that shouldn’t be taken. That was fine. I had to be me.
“You’re going to die sooner than you expect. As soon as my mood changes. I recommend getting out of my sight.” Booker pointed at us both using his two index fingers. We put our pictures back on his desk.
I nodded and followed Dice out of the office door.
“You fucking dumbass,” Dice growled in my direction. Before we could get to the front door, we were stopped by two huge dudes in suits. I put my hands into my pockets. This place was crazy. I had no idea which way was up.
The shorter one held out two crumpled manila envelopes. “Boss wants you to have these.”
I took the package held out to me. I ripped it open; inside was a stack of hundred dollar bills.
“He also showed us the pictures we have to hang before he kills us.”
The taller man snorted. “Don’t bother buying a coffin with your new money. We toss everybody into the river.”
I pocketed the money and gave them both a curt nod. When we were back in Dice’s car, we drove about three blocks before pulling over and counting the money.
I had ten grand. Dice had $4,567.
“Let’s make it even.” Dice reached for my money.
“Hell no.” I slapped his hand away.
“I’ll fight you for it.” Dice put his money into his jacket pocket and held up his fists.
“Bitch. No.”
Dice fumed from behind the wheel, “I have it worse because being your friend has put a target on my back.”
I gave him the middle finger. We drove in silence on the way home.
I hopped out at my apartment building and called back to Dice before I slammed the passenger door, “That place was confusing as fuck.”
But I had money now. Accepting it seemed to bind me to Booker. But there weren’t many options. Rhy was happily watching a video on her iPad, an older model that didn’t hold any charge and needed to stay plugged into the wall. I opened the money in front of my mother and passed out less than half. I wanted to get Rhy a new iPad right freaking now and told my mom as much. “The rest gets her into the Blooming Flower School.”
Steel reserve filled the formerly hollow space in my spine. I would provide for these women. My ladies. Starting today.
Chapter 9
Ember
OKAY, NOW I WAS making a few friends. There was a guy in my biology class, three girls in my English class, and the girls in my dorm whom I’d met in the dining hall, Cady and Heather. Numbers had been shared. This was how I’d find my tribe. My bodyguards kept their distance. I’d even lost Wardon on one occasion. I’d gotten four text messages from four different people to not let that happen again.
I didn’t make any promises because I wanted to try out this new life I’d given myself. I did a few reading assignments and decorated my walls with some dollar store finds. I needed a better, Instagramable wall.
There was a party tomorrow on the quad. Well, all the sororities, fraternities, and clubs were recruiting for new members. I’d seen the flyers, but it wasn’t until the three girls I met in English pressured me that I decided it was a great place to pop by and see what I could get involved in.
I wanted the whole experience. Late library study groups, keggers in a basement, and cold nights in the bleachers watching football games. I texted with my girls from home. Also sent an email to Jet. We’d spent our senior year of high school exploring our wild sides, going to concerts, and trying to vape. I was horrible at smoking anything. I wished I could shake the lonely feeling, despite having a phone full of people who cared about me.
Patrick Merck had sent a thinking of you card to my dorm address. It had a twenty-dollar bill inside. We had a past, he and I. Actually, unfinished business. Animal and Nix had kept the information that Merck might be my father from me. When they finally told me the truth, and that they’d set up an evening for us to get to know each other, I blew out of the house and started couch surfing. I hadn’t really handled the information. I didn’t want a paternity test. I didn’t think I wanted one anyway. It was complicated. Animal had insisted that Merck was a good guy, but I had animosity left over that I didn’t know how to place. The lack of my brother. The lack of my mother. The fact that Merck was out there and knew he could be my father—and didn’t try to step forward in my life when I was younger. Well, I took the twenty. And tossed out the card. So that was how maturely I was handling things.
The pebble that hit my window made me pause for a second. Then I went back to my phone. Then another pinged the glass. Then another. It was clearly happening on purpose. Which was weird. Another hit. I turned off my bedside lamp. Now I could see outside better, instead of my own reflection as I pushed the curtain out of the way. A guy was standing outside my window holding balloons.
Oh God. Not a clown. But no, just a man. I opened the window, and when I leaned out, the man below me let go of the balloons. I was able to snag them when they reached me. A bouquet of very wilted daisies was tied to the balloons, surely the same ones from the picture Lock had sent. I knew by the time I had them secure that the guy below me was for sure Lock because he was singing my name. And I was delighted.
“This is wicked creepy. I thought you were a clown and these flowers are dead.” I let the balloons go into my room. They bounced off the ceiling. “This seems like a death threat.”
He laughed out loud. I felt myself smiling in response.
“Man, you can really bust some balls.” He shook his head.
It was a gorgeous night out. The stars were clear and the air had a hint of crispness.
I made sure to point out the obvious. “You brought your balls here willingly. Like, went through some
serious effort.”
“You got me there.” His white smile was obvious even two floors up. “You’re beautiful. Worth it.”
Why weren’t any of the guys tackling him to the ground? This was an interesting development.
“You sneak on campus? Because usually loiterers aren’t treated too kindly.” I was actually concerned that he could be a target.
“I’ve got moves. Don’t you worry about me, pumpkin.” He stood taller. “I know, protective friends.”
“Who will want to know how the hell you got my phone number when I tell them you are enemy number one.” I went to close my window.
“Wait, what? No, Ember, wait.” He held up both his hands like he could stop me from leaving with just the power of his mind. “I know a guy who knows a guy.”
“Who has my number? That’s even sketchier.” I was glad it was a still night so he couldn’t see me blushing. I could hear him clear as a bell, his voice echoing off the cement and brick.
“Okay, no. I know a guy whose uncle works in admissions. Ember isn’t a common name. He gave it to me because he owes me a favor.” Big smile again. Those dimples again.
“He’s compromising student safety so you can get laid?” I tossed my hair over my shoulder, but I was still listening. I loved the pull I felt from my center at the sight of him. Like my nervous system was replaced with tingles.
“I’m getting laid?” His hopeful face was lit up.
“No.” I gave him the middle finger.
“Dammit.” He kicked his foot behind him. “No, I wouldn’t want it like that anyway. You deserve champagne and fancy shit.”
“So you brought me dead flowers after you robbed a clown for his balloons. Seems like you’re on the right track.” I stepped back.
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