The cell I kept in my pocket only for Hut’s contacts vibrated, and my breath left me in a whoosh. My muscles loosened just enough for me to step forward and pull it out. My ears buzzed as my vision tunneled in on the two of them. I didn’t know fuck all about their relationship. The intel we’d collected was basic, but I was starting to realize this kid would be the answer we’d been searching for. She’d give Hut up.
At least, I hoped she would.
Hut finally let the kid go, and she sagged against the wall, drawing in breaths that she may have thought she’d never be able to do again. It was a scary thing being on the edge of life and death. No matter how much you tried to explain it, you couldn’t do it justice. People who had been there understood, and people who hadn’t hopefully never would.
The chatter in the room grew as Hut stepped out into the backyard, but my feet stayed planted to the spot. I wanted to step forward and ask the kid if she was okay, see if there was anything I could get her, like a glass of water or some shit, but I knew I couldn’t. All it would take was one person to notice, and then Hut would know.
I was on a balancing beam, fighting to stay on and not tumble to the ground. Doing the right thing—the thing I’d told myself I’d always do—wasn’t what I could do. I had to be the old me, the one who saw girls as a means to an end, and money as everything.
The kid stood to her full height, which only brought her to my chest, but didn’t take one look my way. Maybe she knew the silent rules too?
She walked away, her retreating back getting smaller as she pushed her way through the crowd and up to her room. The pull to follow her was like an invisible thread tugging at my body. She was it. She was the answer. But I had to bide my time.
“Heading out. Watch the house,” Hut growled as he stomped past me. For a grown-ass man, he sure liked to act like a toddler at times. Maybe that attitude was the one that had gotten him to the top of his game. No one trusted a toddler’s mood swings, much like how people acted toward Hut. He was unpredictable, and that made for a dangerous man.
I gritted my teeth and stayed silent. He was about to head out on a deal of some kind, and I was left minding the house. I kept telling myself that I had to pay my dues, to prove my loyalty to him. Patience had always been my strong point, but after thirteen months of waiting to get an invite into his house and effectively his crew, I was growing impatient.
I wanted my normal life back.
I wanted to sleep in my own bed and not on a lumpy mattress in the apartment I was staying at.
I wanted this to be over.
Hut and two of his guys—Jace and Quinn—left the house, leaving behind a raging party full of people drugged off their faces. What would look like a normal party to the naked eye, was really rush hour for Hut’s business. It was the perfect cover-up for his deals, and after watching the way he moved around and spoke to people, I realized this was where it all took place. He never had anything on him whenever he’d been stopped by marked or unmarked police cars, and now it made sense. He was doing it all from his house where a warrant would be needed to search. A warrant that we hadn’t been able to get yet.
I sauntered back to my original position, next to the door that led to the backyard, and scanned the room. Each movement was cataloged in my brain, stored away for when I got out of here and could analyze it all. It was already past 1 a.m., and I didn’t anticipate the party slowing down anytime soon. Leaning against the wall, I mentally categorized everything that had happened tonight so far, and before I knew it, the music was being turned down to a low hum, and the kitchen had emptied.
I moved over to the kitchen table and sat on one of the rickety chairs, glancing into the living room as I did. Ted, one of Hut’s crew, was passed out on the sofa, a group of girls surrounding him with barely any clothes on. The floor was littered with people asleep.
I was the only one left awake.
And Hut still wasn’t back yet.
The discolored clock hanging on the wall told me it was after four now, and just as I was about to stand to take a look around the house without having to worry about prying eyes, a floorboard overhead squeaked. I froze in the chair and tilted my head to the side, listening for the footsteps as they moved above me and down the stairs. I didn’t turn. Instead, I kept my focus on the ticking hands of the clock, waiting to see who it was. There was an eeriness to the way the house felt, almost as if it was suspended in time.
“Fuck,” a soft voice whispered from the living room, and my body relaxed. It was the kid. Why the hell was she venturing down here at this time in the morning?
She walked right by me, not saying a word as she moved toward the refrigerator and pulled a bottle of water out. She wasn’t stupid, she knew I was there, and yet she chose not to acknowledge me. I was fascinated by the way she unscrewed the top off the bottle and bought it to her lips. She tilted her head back, and my gaze zoned in on the faint bruises that lined her tan skin.
“You gonna keep staring or say something?”
My gaze flicked up to her face, and I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. This kid had fire, I could tell that with one sentence and the smirk lifting her lips. She’d balanced on a knife’s edge a few hours ago, but she was acting as if this was just another normal day. Maybe it was a normal day for her? Maybe she liked living like this?
“You good?” I asked, my deep voice vibrating from my throat. I waited for her answer and leaned back in the chair, careful not to put all of my weight into it just in case it snapped under me. I wasn’t a huge guy by any means, but my job and the sessions in the gym to keep me at the top of my game gave me a high muscle mass.
“Me?” She raised a brow and capped her water. “Why would you ask that?” Her brows furrowed in genuine confusion as she dropped her arm by her side. My gaze couldn’t be stopped from following her arm and taking her all in. She was wearing a hoodie that was three sizes too big but hit her knees in a way that made it sexy without being obvious.
But then, I didn’t think that was what she was trying to achieve. If anything, I wondered if she was trying to go by unnoticed. Unlucky for her, she wasn’t the kind of woman who people didn’t see.
Fuck. She was just a kid. What the hell was I thinking?
I tilted my head and stood. “I dunno, maybe because of the ring of bruises around your neck?” I shrugged as I moved closer to her.
Her hand fluttered to her neck, and she winced as her fingertips made contact. I was sure she could feel it on the inside of her throat too if her croaky voice was anything to go by.
“I’m fine,” she rushed out, moving to the side when I made it within a couple of feet of her.
I suppressed the grin that wanted to spread across my face. She wasn’t scared of me, but she was wary. Good, her instincts were spot on. So why the hell was she still living here?
My body buzzed being this close to her, my pulse going haywire. This kid was tying me up in knots, and I had no idea why. Maybe it was my protective instincts and the purple hue that was starting to appear around her throat?
“You should take some pain meds and try not to talk much over the next couple days.” I pulled myself a bottle of water out and spun around to face her, leaving only a couple of feet between us.
“And you’d know all about that, would you, Brody?”
I shouldn’t love the way my name rolled off her tongue, but I couldn’t help wanting to hear it again. “Something you’ll never know, kid.”
Her nose wrinkled, and her lips pursed. Why the fuck did I find that so cute? Jesus Christ, this kid was going to be the death of me, and I hadn’t even had a proper conversation with her yet.
“You know how patronizing that is?” She waited for my answer, but when I didn’t give her one, she continued, “Really fuckin' patronizing, old man.”
I chuckled, the deepness reverberating around us. “Touché.”
Her lips curved up into a ghost of a smile, and I willed it to extend further, needing to see what h
er face looked like when she was carefree and didn’t have a worry in the world. Every photo I’d seen of her she seemed like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.
“Don’t give it if you can’t take it,” she replied, pulling the sleeve of her hoodie over her hand. Was she nervous being around me? Was she like that with all of Hut’s crew? “Plus, I’m not a kid.”
“Sure you are.” I paused, bending my knees so that my face was level with hers. “What are you, seventeen?”
I knew her age, but I couldn’t give that away. I had to make her tell me, just like her name. I didn’t, for one second, think she didn’t know what was going on around here. She was observant, that much I knew.
“Nineteen.” She shook her head. “What are you? Like fifty?”
I guffawed and pushed my hand through my hair, sure to make it stick up on end, but I didn’t care. I was always aware of how my body moved and what I was portraying—it was something I’d picked up early on in my teens. You had to present yourself in a certain way, even if you were feeling the opposite. It was all about appearances.
“Nice try, but I’m thirty-five, kid.”
She raised a brow, her gaze tracking the length of me and stopping at my eyes. “Name’s Lola, not kid.” She twirled around. “And FYI, you look good for thirty-five.” That ghost of a smile turned full blown, and I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.
This was where I needed to say something, to have the last word, but she walked away before I got the chance. Damn.
Maybe her being my in would be fun.
LOLA
Sleep didn’t come easy, not that I expected it to anyway.
There was a time when I would sleep soundly in this house, but that all changed a year ago. The lock on my bedroom door was a new thing, one that Hut wasn’t aware of. Not sober Hut anyway.
That night had changed many things in this house. Not only had it showcased exactly who I was living with, but it was a warning too. A warning to every person who thought they could come into Hut’s life and dictate how he acted toward people.
It was the first night he’d scared me, and I knew I would never forget how he pinned me down to my bed and held a knife to my throat, threatening to slice me into tiny pieces. And all because I dared go on a date with someone he knew. No one told Hut who to be, least of all people who were disposable to him.
My throat burned, and tears sprang to my eyes as I rolled over and swallowed, needing to drink some water. The half-empty bottle I’d fetched early this morning sat on my small bedside table that had seen better days. I reached for it and sat up in my bed, crossing my legs and staring at the wall.
Everything was piling up, things being added constantly, and it was sure to all come tumbling down at some point. It was swaying back and forth, only needing a strong wind to completely demolish it.
The low thrum of the TV echoed throughout the house, and several voices mixed in with it. My stomach dipped, knowing that Hut must be home by now. I had to face him this morning. Show no weakness and all that. But I was getting tired of having to be the strong one all the time. Sometimes I just wanted to let the tears fall and cry myself to sleep. Only I couldn’t, because the moment that I did, all would be lost. If I opened that Pandora’s box, I’d never get the lid shut again.
My threadbare blanket covered my legs, offering me a little warmth in an otherwise cold house. This room had been mine since the first day I moved in when I was twelve, and the decor was still the same: Light-pink walls, covered in random pieces of paper and posters, a single bed pushed up against one wall, and just enough room for a set of drawers.
It was tiny, but all mine.
I took another swallow of my water, placed the empty bottle on the bedside table, and yanked the covers aside. I moved three steps to the door, unlatched the lock, and opened it to the hallway. There was no telling what—or should I say who—would greet me when I went downstairs, but I was hoping I could get out of the house without seeing anyone.
The thrum of the TV was louder now, mixed in with someone’s laughter. My room was at the end of the hallway, so with each step, I could decipher who was talking. I passed Hut’s room and finally made it into the bathroom.
The dark-green sink had been here since the house was built, it had seen better days, but it served its purpose. Only one tap worked—the cold one—but it was all I needed to brush my teeth. I made sure the lock was flipped, pulled my clothes off, and stepped into the bath that had a shower attachment. I envied the walk-in showers I saw on TV or the shower units that were attached to the wall over a bath. All I had was a showerhead that balanced on a plastic shelf meant for shampoo bottles.
It was what I was used to though.
By the time I’d finished and opened up the bathroom door, the noise was louder, and more people were awake. I made a mad dash for my bedroom with the towel wrapped around me, cursing myself for not taking my clothes in with me. I knew better than that, but the small murmurings had lured me into a false sense of security—a security I couldn’t afford to have in this house.
I towel dried my hair and pulled it into a bun at the base of my neck, needing it out of my face for the workday ahead. Saturdays were one of the busiest days at the diner, which meant double shifts and more money to be made, and I desperately needed that money to get out of this shithole. I may only be able to afford another shithole, but at least then it would be my shithole. Having something of your own was better than having nothing at all.
I pulled on my jeans and a baggy T-shirt, tying it at my waist so it didn’t swallow me whole, and sat down on the bed. The soles of my knock-off Converse were coming apart, but until I could replace them next month, they’d have to do. I just hoped it didn’t rain today, because if it did, I was fucked.
The small mirror on my set of drawers revealed the purple ring around my throat, and I blew out a puff of air. There was no way I would be able to get away with covering it with makeup—not that I had the kind that would be able to anyway. I used the cheap stuff, the sort that just about evened out your skin tone. So I tied a headscarf around my neck, making it look like it was a fashion choice rather than a necessity.
Once I was ready, I grabbed my jacket and purse, and headed out of my room, making sure my door was closed behind me. There was little I could do to protect my privacy when I wasn’t here, but lucky for me, my most valuable possessions—a photograph of my mom and me, and her locket necklace—were kept in my locker at work.
The stairs creaked as I descended them, announcing my approach. In the time it had taken me to get ready, the house must have emptied of guests, and all who were left behind were members of Hut’s crew, half of which were passed out on the threadbare sofas. Ford’s shocking blond hair was sticking up in all different directions, and a half-smoked cigarette hung from his lips. How could someone fall asleep while smoking?
I stepped over his legs, pulled the butt from between his lips, and jammed it into the overflowing ashtray. Quinn and Jace were watching the TV but made no move to say anything to me. They knew better than that. Hut was nowhere in sight, but as I stepped closer to the kitchen, I heard his voice.
“He said he’d meet today to discuss payment,” Hut said, excitement evident in his tone. “This could be the next step up.”
“Fuck, bro,” Ted replied. “We’re gonna be reaping it in!”
I walked into the kitchen, flicking my gaze over the two of them around the table and Brody leaning against the kitchen counter.
“Tell me about it.” Hut leaned back in his seat and smiled up at me. “Mornin', sweets.”
“Morning,” I replied, lifting my lips into the fakest smile I’d ever shown. I had to play the part with him, at least for a little while anyway. I had to buy myself more time.
“Where you heading to?” Hut asked as I grabbed a Pop-Tart out of the cabinet above the sink.
“Work.”
I heard the chair squeak and turned to see Hut standing up. “On a Sat
urday?”
“Yep. I’m working a double, so I’ll see you tonight.”
Hut’s light eyes darkened. “Stay home. Call in sick.”
I shook my head and stepped past him. “Can’t. I need the money.”
“Fuck the money,” he spat, reaching for me, but I managed to sidestep him and amble into the living room. “I can give you the money.”
“You know I don’t want your money, Emerson.” I closed my eyes and berated myself. I shouldn’t have called him that, not in front of other people, but I hated his goddamn nickname. He wasn’t Hut to me, he was Emerson—at least, the boy who I’d gone through my teens with was. “I’m sorry.” I spun around and winced. “I really need to go, Hut. I’ll see you tonight?”
His nostrils flared, and fists clenched at his sides. “Fine.”
I nodded and pulled the front door open, heaving a sigh of relief as I closed it behind me. He hadn’t even apologized for what he did last night, but then he never did. He either didn’t remember or chose to ignore it.
I slipped past the car in the front yard and Hut’s blacked-out SUV and made my way down the street. The train station was only a fifteen-minute walk, but the soles of my shoes were already struggling with the dips in the sidewalk and random stones that littered over the cracked path. Maybe I’d have to invest in some new sneakers sooner rather than later.
There was always something that needed to be bought lately, and my savings were getting smaller and smaller. How was I meant to be able to move out and pay rent each month when I could barely afford the textbooks for my classes or keep my feet warm in decent shoes? I understood why a life of drug taking and making it from one fix to another was so appealing. You didn’t have to worry about anything when that was all that mattered.
The thrum of a car engine came closer, the only noise in the neighborhood at this time of morning. “Hey!” I turned my head to face the road and raised a brow at the dark gray car. The passenger window was down, and when I stepped closer, I saw Brody in the driver’s seat. “Need a ride?”
Fallen Duet: Brody & Lola: Free Fall & Down Fall (Easton Family Duet Boxsets Book 1) Page 3
