“Nothing. That’s the point. No club, no bullshit, no more risking my life, and the best part—no Ghost.” Well, that clears that question up; Ghost is his dad. The malice in his voice makes it obvious.
“Not that my opinion should matter, but I think you should do it. Escape and figure out who you’re supposed to be, who you want to be. It sucks having to live in the destructive shadows of those who, on paper, are listed as parents.” He turns his head, making me pause for a second.
“That’s why you’re going to a school out of state?”
I shake my head. Relief and understanding in his eyes shine back at me. Never thought I’d meet someone who could relate to me on this level and the reasons why I’ve been counting down to the day I leave.
A sudden idea pops into my head as I recall a dream I had. It’s fucking crazy, and before I get the chance to mull it over, analyze all the pros and cons, or how catastrophic a mistake this could be if said aloud, I find my mouth asking before I can stop it.
“Why don’t you come to Boston with me?”
Ryu
I can see her regret the minute she asks the question. Like she’d do anything to take the words back. I study her shocked expression with rapt curiosity. If this is just a friendly extension of help, her cheeks wouldn’t be turning so pink. Maybe she realizes she just asked a criminal to move with her? Besides that, she just graduated high school. Her life hasn’t even begun, and the last thing she needs is extra weight to lug around.
I want to respond, but how? This isn’t what I was expecting. Hell, I hadn’t meant to confess what I did. But I was caught up in the moment, again, thinking about my life and the shit that’s happened. Every time I’m around her I can’t stop blabbing. Giving her more of myself each time and I should fucking know better.
“Look. . .I uh. . .shit.”
Her eyes narrow with hurt for a split second before she puts her walls back up, hardening her expression. She sits up and moves to climb out of bed. A long chain of jumbled curses flies out in rapid succession. I snatch her by the waist before she has a chance to make it all the way off the bed.
“Hold up.”
She doesn’t fight me, much, when I pin her back down and straddle her waist. She turns her head with embarrassment, eyes focusing on the wall instead of me.
“Look at me.”
There’s force behind my command, and I can see her battling over whether to look at me or continue ignoring me in hopes that if I stop talking we can forget what just happened. She finally snaps her attention to me, the crease between her brows deepening.
Her lips pull in a thin line, and nostrils flare. “Just forget I said anything.” She pins me with a death glare, clearly uncomfortable that we’re still talking about this and not moving on.
“Why do you want me to go with you?”
The better question is: why do I care to know? And for the life of me, I can’t come up with a reason. I told her to stay out of trouble, and here I am, ignoring my own advice and inviting her over. Then demand she answer the question I shouldn't have asked. In fact, the only person to blame for this awkward situation is me.
She shrugs. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea or anything, but I figured since I wouldn't know anyone, it would be kinda cool to at least have a friendly face around.”
Wait, is she into me, into me? We’ve both known from the beginning that whatever this is between us has an expiration date. It never occurred to me that she’d catch feelings for me. That must be the reason she asked me to follow her, right? But it’s hard to get a read on her, and I don’t like the way she put emphasis on the word friendly.
“And what wrong idea would that be?”
She frowns, making me feel guilty, and a small part of me does. She knows exactly why I asked her that, but instead of answering, her lips purse. I’m confused and trying to understand how things suddenly changed because of a question.
“Never mind. I need to get going. I have work in the morning.”
I get that she’s mad at me, but I also think she’s mad at herself. I feel like an asshole, but I’m trying to look at the bigger picture. When she goes to move this time, I let her. She gets dressed and I follow suit. I know I should say something, anything to fix this situation, but I don’t. Not even when she opens the bedroom door and walks out. We continue to move in silence through the house and out to her car.
She opens her car door and pauses. “The offer still stands. No strings attached.”
“I’ll think about it.”
What else can I say? Saying yes binds us together more, and I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. It also exposes how I feel about her, and I’m not ready for that. But telling her no doesn’t seem like the right answer either even though it’s the right choice. Any solid reason I give will define what we are, and I’m not ready to lift the veil. I just want to spend more time with her like we were before shit got fucked up.
She nods and hops into her car, hurt written all over her face. I wait until the last of her rear lights disappear into the pitch black of night. I continue to fixate on the darkness, replaying what happened. The start of tonight was perfect, but like most things, it turned to shit.
I have no idea how long I stand there, but eventually I give up trying to figure out what to do. Nothing can ever be simple. Everything has to be complicated as fuck. It would be nice if I had just one easy thing to deal with in my life. I don’t think that’s asking too much.
I pad back into the house, but instead of going to bed I grab a beer and plop down on the couch. The last thing I want to do is lie in a bed covered with her scent. Six beers later, I finally pass out, the ‘what am I going to do about Poppy’ issue numbed enough that sleep takes over.
Poppy
“I asked Ryu to come with me to Boston.”
Deb drops her slice of pizza on her plate and starts choking. I slide her drink closer and wait while she takes a sip to clear her throat, the whole time bracing for the backlash I know is coming.
“I’m sorry. . .” She coughs again and takes another gulp of her soda. “Did I hear you correctly? You asked Ryu to go with you to Boston?” Her mouth hangs open in disbelief.
I thought about keeping what happened the other night to myself, but it’s driving me crazy. I need someone to talk to about this. Tell me I was stupid for asking. Or tell me I haven’t completely lost my mind because I’ve fallen for him and am not ready for it to end.
“What on God’s green earth possessed you to do that?”
I wince at her comment. “Well, I’m not one hundred percent sure.”
“Is this why you begged me to meet you tonight? So, you could drop this bombshell on me?”
I shrug. “I figured if we were in public, you’d be less likely to maim me.” She huffs in annoyance, but she knows I’m right. Pizza is her weakness, and I exploited it for my own personal gain, but safety comes first. And being out in the open lowers the chances of her going off on me like she would if we were at home.
“Not only do you use my love for Tony’s pizza against me, but you made sure we had eyes all around us?” She leans back in her seat and shakes her head. “At least you let me eat a few slices first. Well, get on with it. Tell me what happened.”
I don’t just tell her about the other night, I also tell her about the day he left jail. They don’t have anything to do with each other, but in my head I need everything that's happened this week off my chest. I swear her eyes keep getting bigger and bigger the more I spill. When I’m all done, I expect her to dive right in with her opinion, but she just sits there blinking.
“Ok, let me get this straight. You saw him leave jail on Monday, but you don’t know why he was in there to begin with. Then you go over to his house two days later, sleep with him and invite him to come to Boston with you. Now you guys aren’t really talking?”
I shake my head. “When you sum up everything like that, I can hear how fucking ridiculous it all sounds. Which is why I need
your help.”
She blows out her cheeks before diving back into her food. I tilt my head to watch her shovel the pizza into her mouth. When she polishes that slice off in no time flat, she shoots me a glare. “What? I’m stress eating.”
“Why are you stressing? I’m the one with the issue. This was supposed to be fun, nothing more. And I fucked that up with one question. The only way I could’ve screwed this up more would’ve been if I asked him to marry me.”
“Please, for the love of God, tell me you didn’t,” she gasps.
I toss my crust at her. “No! Jeez. I’m not that crazy.”
“No, just crazy enough to ask a guy who you barely know, that’s been in jail, to move up north with you.”
I grimace at her words. “Don’t be so judgmental. If he did anything serious, he wouldn’t have been let out.”
“Regardless, what are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know. That’s why you’re here, to help me figure it out.”
She sighs but doesn’t say anything right away. Her eyes focus on the table, and I know she’s lost in thought, probably coming up with a response. I feel bad unloading this on her, but I need some guidance. I am completely out of my element and floundering.
She goes to open her mouth, and I lean closer to the table, waiting to hear what she has to say as if it's going to be this sage advice, like the stars aligning for all to be revealed. “I have no idea what you should do either.” My shoulders slump. Not the answer I was hoping for. “What I will say is that college should still be your number one focus. Both of us have been dreaming about the day we get to leave this hell hole and never come back.”
“College is still the plan,” I reassure her. It’s definitely the plan. I’m not screwing that chance up.
“You leaving for college isn't my concern. It’s what’s going to happen when you get up there.” She sees the confused look on my face and shakes her head again. “Let’s break this down. He moves up there with you. Where is he going to stay? He can’t stay with you in the dorms. While you’re supposed to be in class worrying about the next exam or assignment that’s due, your head is wondering what he’s doing all day. And how are you going to split your time between studying and working with the private investigator and Ryu?”
I hadn’t thought about the time I’ll be spending away from him because of school and work. But I know I’m not the only one who's gone to college with a boyfriend before. Did it work out for them? How will I know what I can handle if I give up before even trying? Then again, the only thing we’ve texted each other the last few days is ‘hi.’ Pretty sure I’m obsessing over a situation that’s not going to happen.
“I’ll be completely honest with you, I don’t see it ending well for either of you if he moves up there. Can ties from his life be broken that easy? From what you’ve told me, that’s all he’s ever known. What if he gets caught up in something bad, and you get pulled into it? Do you really want to risk your future just to wind up back here?”
My phone beeping has both of us pausing to glance over at it. My stomach is in knots, and it’s hard to discern if it’s stress or butterflies. I pick it up and swipe to unlock the screen. One new text.
Ryu: Can we talk?
“It’s him, isn’t it?”
I nod and peer over at her. “He wants to talk.” An odd sense of foreboding hits me. Is this the end of me and him? That thought punches sadness into my chest. I fought so hard to not fall for him and should feel relief that this may be the end of it all. But for some reason, the thought of never seeing him again hurts more than it should.
Love.
The word flutters like a whisper through my mind, causing me to drop my phone on the table. Deb frowns while I quickly snatch it back up. “Sorry. Slipped.”
I’m falling in love with him.
I don’t want to fall in love with him.
Fucking hell.
I’m royally screwed.
I can’t tell him how I feel, and I don’t know if I’m ready to hear how he feels about me, especially if it’s not the same.
“Are you going to see him?”
My brain hasn’t even made it that far. I’ve no idea what to do. The fact that I can’t predict the future irritates me. If I knew how this would play out, that would help me decide if I should see him or not.
“Go see him. Hear what he has to say. If you don’t, then I'm the one who's going to suffer from all the complaining you’ll do.” She slides out of the booth.
I send Ryu a text letting him know I’ll be over soon. Deb is waiting for me when I get outside. “I’ll call you later and give you the rundown.” I pull her into a hug.
“You better.”
Deb heads over to her car, and I start walking in the direction of mine in the parking lot behind the restaurant. The closer I get to it the more jumbled my head gets. What is he going to say to me? What will I say?
My mind begins to play out different conversations and how they could possibly go. By the time I plop into the driver's seat, I’ve got about fifteen responses prepared for him.
What I’m not prepared for is the passenger side door flinging open and Ace jumping in. Before I can say or do anything, he lifts his hand and holds the barrel of a gun up to the side of my head.
“Drive.” My eyes are wide with fear, and shock has me frozen in place. “Gimme that.” He grabs the purse from my lap and dumps the contents on the floor. “My phone now.” My heart pounds harder in my chest seeing him holding my lifeline in his hands. “You deaf? I said drive!”
With trembling hands, I start the car and pull out onto the road, not knowing which direction he wants me to go in.
“Go to the clubhouse.”
The thought of disobeying him and driving to the police station crosses my mind. But the gun pressed against my temple has me quickly rethinking that plan. I could lie to him, stall the drive while I figure out how to call for help. It’s not the best plan but it’s the only one I have.
“I. . .I don’t know. . .”
“Don’t fucking lie to me, kitten.” He presses the cold metal harder against me. He laughs at my quivering lips and the tears sliding down my face. “Scared looks good on you.” He smacks his lips like he’s about to dive into an all you can eat buffet. I hate that he knows how terrified I am and even more how he’s getting off on it.
I do as he asks and head to the one place I’ve been curious about but now have no desire to see. We spend the entire car ride in silence except for the sobs that escape every so often. I know I’m strong and a fighter, and don’t take shit from anyone. But this one piece of shit has me petrified. A slew of thoughts and emotions are hitting me left and right. I’m struggling to focus on the road, and the closer we get, the more dread weighs down on me.
“Park the car around back.”
I jump at the sound of his voice but again, do as I’m told even though there’s a part of me desperate to defy him. I ease the car down the side of the large brick building. The one thing I do notice is the lack of bikes and other cars. I pray that looks are deceiving and there are other people here. Maybe someone will come to my rescue? Farfetched, but it’s a small glimmer of hope I’m going to cling to. I pull the car into the grass and wait for his next instructions.
“Get out, slowly. One wrong move earns you a bullet to the back of the head.”
I reach for the handle, push the door open and all but fall out. My body isn’t wanting to cooperate, every muscle stiff. I hear the other door open and shut. Ace comes around the car and yanks me the rest of the way out by my hair. I yelp in pain and then from the rocks biting into my skin when he throws me on the ground.
“You’re fucking testing my patience.”
“You said slow, didn’t you?” I snap, not meaning to.
He barks out an evil laugh. “Oh, this is going to be fun.” He stalks over to me and points the gun at me again. “Inside.” I manage to find my footing and stand up. Warm blood trickles down my
legs from the scrapes. He’s on me faster than I can register, the gun now pressed against my spine. “Move.”
I eye the door up ahead, knowing that if I go through it, that’s it for me. I scan the area without moving my head, seeing if there is any way of escape or if someone would hear if I scream. The only thing I see in the distance is trees, and I don’t remember seeing any houses nearby when we pulled in. I’m screwed. I suck in a breath of air while putting one foot in front of the other. With each step I take, I recount all the sins I’ve committed and silently pray for forgiveness.
Why is it that when people are staring death in the face, they repent for the shit they’ve done in their lives? It’s a question I’ve always wondered about, but now I get it. I’m one of those people who pull out the faith card in dire need. But there’s something oddly comforting in the fact that the little time I have left, I at least acknowledged my wrongdoings.
My heart pounds away in my chest, and when I reach for the doorknob, I’m half convinced it’s going to fly out of my chest.
“What the hell is taking so long?” He swats my hand away and throws open the door, shoving me inside. I trip and fall onto the concrete floor. I scan the room and notice that I am, in fact, alone—with him. The door slams shut, and I whip my head to him. The most sinister grin I’ve ever seen is on this guy’s face, and if I was scared before, I’m fucking terrified now. He makes the devil look like a saint.
I dart to my feet, knowing it’s the wrong move, but my flight response is in overdrive, fear my motivator. The sound of a gunshot has me covering my head and tripping over my feet, falling back to the floor. Sobs heave from my chest as I lie there curled up on my side. Footsteps echo through the space as Ace approaches me. He grabs hold of my hair again and pulls me to my feet, so I’m at eye level with him. I cry out in pain, digging my nails into his forearms, hoping he’ll release me.
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