A Love Hate Thing

by Whitney D. Grandison

  “Word is bond, I respect that. Be careful.”

  “Always.”

  “I’ll see you Saturday.”

  I hung up as I made it home.

  Something felt off, and I had to call Prophet to confirm it.

  “T?” he answered on the second ring. “Everything good?”

  Possibly. “Yeah, how are things with you?”

  “Everything straight over here.”

  “And business?”

  He was quiet, and I hated to think he wouldn’t tell me. “I’m thinking of falling back for a while. Hell, I may even think about college or something.”

  Closing my eyes, I shook my head. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

  “And drag you into it?”

  “Prophet.”

  “You’re free, Trice.”

  “We’re born in chains, remember that? We’re never free.”

  “You got out, so stay out, okay? I’m about to head to bed now. Take care, and do me a favor and stay out of trouble. I love you, man, stay up.”

  Prophet hung up and left me in the dark.

  I knew Prophet was looking out for me, and I was staying away from the city, but this was personal. Turning my back on them wasn’t an option, so if I had to seek out a fancy car and steal it to secure our freedom, so be it.

  36 | Nandy

  I didn’t get much sleep. It was strange how I couldn’t find comfort in the model home anymore. Not since sharing it with Tyson. The last time I’d been here, I’d been in Tyson’s arms, kissing him. At the time, it had seemed like he needed me, and now here he was, pushing me away. We’d taken a step forward just to take another back.

  It was selfish of me to intrude into his personal life, but I got the sense that he was in trouble, and I wanted to know how much and what kind. If only to help somehow, someway.

  After waking up in the model home, I gathered myself together and began walking home. It was a hot walk, but one that left me alone with my thoughts. Not that that was a good thing. Every thought that came to me was negative and scary. I didn’t like not knowing what was going on.

  Maybe Travis had gotten into some type of embarrassing trouble and called Tyson to get him out of it, and that was why he’d shut me out. I could live with the idea of Travis being the cause of Tyson’s secrecy. Rebel or not, Travis Catalano was safe compared to what else lingered out there that could’ve been calling Tyson.

  At home, I found that my parents were already gone for work, which was a breeze since I didn’t have to explain where I was all night.

  Jordy came into the kitchen, a soccer ball under his arm. He lifted his chin in acknowledgment. “Hey.”

  I held up the doughnuts I’d gotten on the way home. “I brought breakfast. Do Mom and Dad know I didn’t come home last night?”

  Jordy accepted the bag and browsed through my selections as he shook his head. “They kinda figured you crashed at Erica’s or something, and since Shayne didn’t come either, they’re not too upset. Although you should’ve called. Trice came home.” He nibbled on a cream stick before gesturing toward the fridge. “There’s leftover Mexican in there. I sorta ate your nachos.”

  I forced out a smile. “It’s okay. I’m not really hungry.”

  Jordy seemed indifferent. “I’m heading over to Hector’s. Do you mind if I take these?”

  While I’d bought them for everyone, I didn’t too much mind giving them all to my younger brother and his friends. It seemed no one else was home.

  “Sure.”

  I went up to my bedroom and over to my iHome. I set my phone inside and scrolled through my music and settled on a song that described all that I was feeling and going through.

  I let the song scream from my speakers as I fell onto my bed, hugging one pillow and burying my face into another.

  While it may not have been the end of the world, I couldn’t help but question if it were the end of us, whatever us was.

  About a third of the way into the song I felt another presence climb onto my bed with me, and soon I felt him wrap his arms around me. Against all judgment, I reveled in the feel of his body weight on me, and the sensation of being in his arms pulled me in against the current of anxiety and doubt.

  I turned over and was face-first with Tyson. He lay against me adorably in another gray tee that hugged his body and gave an exceptionally good view of the bulges of muscle that were his arms.

  I reached out one hand and rested it on his chest as I peered into his eyes.

  Tyson whispered, close to my ear, “I don’t want it to be just a kiss.”

  There were so many things I wanted to say, but once our lips touched, all questions blurred away.

  He kissed me, and it was as if someone had pressed Play and we’d resumed our moment from the beach. Only, I could tell something was amiss. He kissed me desperately, as if he were determined to see each kiss through to distract himself.

  When he reached for my zipper, I almost got lost in what we were doing. I let him unzip my jumpsuit as he kissed a trail from my neck down my chest. He kissed the valley of my cleavage as his hand slipped into the shorts of my jumpsuit.

  I bit down on my lip as he cupped me and my back arched.

  Oh God.

  I reached down and covered his hand with mine, showing him the way, helping him.

  “Tyson,” I let out in a breathy moan.

  He watched me as we kept going and my breathing heightened with what was building up inside of me. Something about his attention and the look on his face pushed me over the edge and I was especially happy there was music playing to block out my screaming in the results of our activity.

  I lay back as my body wound down, and Tyson brought his arms back around me and leaned down to kiss me. Kissing didn’t seem like enough to him, because he was going deeper as he soon hovered over me and gripped my thighs in a way that sent electricity coursing through my body.

  He shifted his weight off me as he propped himself up on his arms. His gaze fell over me and I could see the intent of his desire. I knew what he wanted as his hands slid down the measures of my curves, and I wanted with everything in the heat of the moment to give it to him, except a tiny voice in the back of my mind stopped me.

  We were stalling.

  The previous evening had happened, and we were skirting around the issue of the telephone call that had interrupted our moment.

  I scrambled to sit up and held up my hand to keep him away. I got out of the bed and turned off my music before facing the boy in my bed looking at me with worry.

  Clutching my jumpsuit together to keep my breasts from spilling out, I asked what had been on my mind all night. “What happened last night?”

  Tyson studied me. “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit, Tyson.”

  He let out a sigh. “That’s not what I want to talk about right now, or what I want to do.”

  “So you really think you can brush me off and then show up now and mess around with me?”

  Tyson deadpanned, as if it weren’t already obvious. “You weren’t saying that a moment ago.”

  I stood straight, feeling guilty. Quickly, I zipped up my jumpsuit to hide the evidence of what we’d done. “I was distracted.”

  “Come on, I just wanna be close to you,” he begged. He sounded needy and seemed anxious, making my knees feel weak.

  Still I pushed to stop the charade. “And I’m trying to get close to you, but you won’t let me.”

  Hardness covered Tyson’s face. “Nandy, drop it.”

  “No. Tell me what’s going on. I know it’s something serious. I can help you.”

  Tyson remained silent.

  He wasn’t willing to share his phone call or his distress, and I wasn’t in the mood to continue fondling each other, or have sex with him with such a big space
between us. If it wasn’t my mood swings between us, it was his secrets now. We just couldn’t get the timing right, and I hated it. Every turn was another winding road, and I feared we’d never get it straight.

  I gave up.

  I needed space, and I went to leave.

  “Where are you going?” He was up out of the bed and after me.

  I paused at the door. “I’m going to take a shower, and I want you out of my room.”

  Tyson grimaced. “If I tell you what’s up you’re not going to like it.”

  “Not telling me has yielded the same result.”

  He cursed and stared down at the carpet. “Something came up back home, some trouble. I’m going to have to figure out a way to fix it.”

  “Doing that illegal stuff you used to do?”

  He nodded.

  “That’s completely stupid and reckless, no!”

  “You have no authority to tell me what to do.”

  “I’m not telling you, I’m strongly suggesting it.”

  “And you have no place to.”

  “I think as your girlfriend—wait, we never put a title on it, did we? I guess you’re right.” Defeated. I felt defeated.

  Tyson appeared hurt as he tried to get close to me. “Stop it, it’s not like that. You mean a lot to me, but this—this is bigger than you. I’m not turning my back on them. That’s where I came from, that’s what I know, and that’s what I’ll protect.”

  Even if it cost him everything?

  I didn’t cry, I just hurt all over.

  Bowing my head, I shook it slightly. “I don’t know ‘Trice,’ but I guess I just met him. Have fun going home and doing what you have to do.”

  “If I walk out that door, what does it mean, Nandy?” When I didn’t answer right away, he touched me. “Look at me.”

  And I did, because I felt too much for him, too much to let him do what he was doing, and too much to support it. It was ruined and broken, and I did not feel okay.

  “We were fragile from the start, the ground was never solid to walk on, and all it took was one step to break us. I just didn’t think it’d be so soon.” Just when I’d gotten him to myself, someone else came and took him from me all over again.

  Tyson caged me against the door, reaching his hands out and planting them on either side of my head. He seemed determined and resilient as he shook his head. “I walked away from you ten years ago, and I don’t plan on doing that again. I just need you to understand that this is something that I have to do.”

  He was risking everything he’d built to save a past he needed to escape. The thought seemed to rip my heart out of my chest at the possible consequences of such foolishness.

  “I... I’m sorry, I can’t.” I ducked under his arm and opened my bedroom door, leaving my room and him behind.

  37 | Trice

  She didn’t even know the full story, and she was disappointed in me. Telling Nandy my intentions for the night would surely ruin any chance I had with her.

  I almost wanted to call the whole thing off, but I couldn’t go back on my word. I couldn’t let my friends down.

  Hours seemed to pass as I lay in my room, staring up at the ceiling. There was music in my ears, but its content wasn’t reaching me. All I could think about was my moment with Nandy in her room on her bed, uninterrupted until she’d demanded answers from me. To think, if Money hadn’t called, perhaps we would’ve been closer by now, maybe even truly intimate. It gave me chills to know that, between us, it would mean something—something real and something deep. In the beginning, I hadn’t wanted to be close to anybody, but as my last hours of freedom possibly slipped away, all I wanted was Nandy.

  But all she wanted was the truth.

  I forced myself to come out of my room, only to discover that Nandy was long gone.

  Being in the house wasn’t helping. Outside with fresh air, I still couldn’t think straight. I wished she were home. Even if she would more than likely ignore me, at least she’d still be in the vicinity. For the first time, I was in the wrong, and the guilt was weighing me down.

  Matt’s Wrangler came down the road and pulled to a stop in front of the Catalano residence. Travis hopped out and gave Matt a salute as he drove off. Travis noticed me and came over, wearing only a pair of sweats with a jump rope draped across his shoulders.

  He came to a stop in front of me, and we did the little handshake we’d created one boring afternoon, before he sat with me on the front step.

  “You should’ve joined Matt and me at the gym. One of my favorite pastimes is boxing.” Travis demonstrated a few jabs as he grinned my way. “If you ask Matty, it was a tie, but just know that I kicked his ass.”

  I offered him a small smile and stared down the front walk.

  Silence fell over us and I knew the hours of the day were winding down. I had to find a car before it was too late.

  “Trouble in paradise?” Travis asked as he elbowed me.

  “Something like that.”

  He patted my back. “Last night didn’t go so well for me, either.”

  “I thought you took a girl home.”

  Travis looked at the street and shrugged. “Nah, we just didn’t click like I thought.”

  I wanted things to be normal and calm, but a choice lay in front of me.

  “This is deeper than your girl,” Travis observed. “What’s up?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing.”

  “Nandy’ll forgive you, man,” Travis said.

  “This isn’t about Nandy,” I confessed. Keeping it inside wasn’t going to help, and at least Travis wasn’t the type to judge. “It’s something back home.”

  “Someone hurt or something?”

  “We’re different than you,” I said as I faced him. “At least, they are.”

  Travis tried to be understanding. “We can’t be that different.”

  I shook my head. “You guys have it set here. In the ’Wood, going to school, or even college, calls for a slow route to money. For them, they want money fast. When I was growing up, to make a little money, we’d get together and go around stealing cars. My friends did it for the cash and the high. I did it to save up for my mom and me. A month ago, I got a call that they needed another runner, because one of my friends got hurt. So I went back and delivered the car to the guy who chops them in exchange for cash. Living life like that was simple back then. And then I came here.

  “Last night I got a call from a friend saying our chopper is getting paranoid. He wants us to find a top-of-the-line car to deliver to him so he can skip town, or else he’ll turn us all in to save himself. Best case, this is just paranoia getting to him. Worst, the feds are closing in and he really could turn on us. My friend wants to permanently shut him up, but I offered to find a car to deliver to him tomorrow night.”

  “Steal a car, you mean,” Travis corrected. Unlike Nandy, he wasn’t disgusted with me. He didn’t even seem mad, he just accepted my story as if it were no big deal.

  “Yeah, that.”

  Travis squinted into the distance where Kyle was getting into his car. “You steal from this area, you’re the number one suspect. Big black guy from Lindenwood, who else could it be, you know?”

  “If I don’t steal, we’re fucked.”

  Travis shrugged. “Could be the case either way.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You can’t blame Smith for being upset. She’s into you, left behind Bradley, goes against her parents, and this is probably a slap in the face.”

  “She doesn’t the know the details, just that I have to do something illegal. The details would end us.”

  “Rightfully so.”

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  “There’s always a choice.”

  “Yeah? What other problem-solving choice do I have?”

  Travi
s stared at me. One second he was studying me, and the next he was reaching into his sweats and pulling out his car keys. He tossed them my way. “Problem solved.”

  It was generous, but... “I can’t.”

  “It’s my dad’s,” he went on. “I’ll just make up some story about it being stolen while I was out.”

  “Travis.”

  “I’m serious, Trice.” Crazy thing was, he looked dead-ass serious. “Take the car.”

  It was here that I knew that he was lying.

  I shook my head. “This is your car.”

  He gave me a half smile. “I probably would’ve crashed it or something anyway.”

  “Knowing your dad, he’s gonna be disappointed you let it get stolen.”

  Travis didn’t deny this. “My dad’s always disappointed in me.”

  “I can’t take your car, Trav.”

  “The way I see it, what choice do you have? You steal a car that’s rigged to go off and you’re fucked, and your bros back home are equally fucked. You take a car with a set of keys—”

  “A lift,” I cut in. “Breaking into a car with force is a crank, but easily stealing a car that’s not rigged or has keys is a lift.”

  Travis nodded. “You lift my car, and you’re home free. It’s worth a lot of money—it’s only a year old, top-notch navigation and Bluetooth. It’s the dream steal.”

  Travis wasn’t bullshitting me. He wanted me to take his car. He was giving me a free and easy run, but it was beyond a noble gesture.

  “You barely know me.”

  “You have a second chance here, and I get that you want to free your bros and clear your history, but this car comes with a rule. This is your last tie to Lindenwood. After you deliver the product and everything’s squared away, you’re done for life. You’re going to come back and build a new beginning with Nandy or whoever. You said it yourself—you got shot, and not everybody survives that, but you did. It’d be a pity to beat the odds just to land in jail or juvie. Do better.”

  “You’re actually good at this,” I said.

  “Matt’s like a therapist when I’m on a destructive path. I’m sure I’ve done something that caused him to say something similar to me.”