Tristan (The Ruins of Emblem #1)

by Cora Brent

  Dover was telling me about last night’s prison break. He hadn’t been there when it happened or else he would have been stuck inside overnight as the whole facility was placed on lockdown. The two escapees, both of them murderers, were thought to no longer be in the area and the search had expanded up to Phoenix and down to the border.

  “Oh wait.” He snapped his fingers. “Last night I was having a beer down at the Cactus after my shift and heard there was some trouble down at the high school after the game.”

  A stab of worry carved its way through my gut. “That’s news to me. Other than the final score everything was fine when we left. What happened?”

  Dover shrugged his meaty shoulders. “The usual. A couple of fights broke out. Normally Emblem PD is around after the games to break up any trouble but they had their hands full dealing with the prison break check points. One of the scuffles turned bad and a guy got shot in the leg.”

  “Shot?” I almost dropped my coffee cup. “Who?”

  “Not one of the kids,” he assured me when he saw my reaction. “Tristan knows the guy. Rafael Rivera.”

  I recalled the leering jerk who’d harassed us from a few rows back. Nesto’s older brother. “We ran into him at the game. Is he going to be all right?”

  “Yeah. He’ll be fine. Wasn’t a bad hit.”

  When Dover disappeared down the hall to finish getting ready for work I sipped my coffee and looked out the tiny square kitchen window. Tristan’s weight bench was the only thing in the shallow backyard. A rusty chain link fence surrounded the perimeter and the property beyond the fence was strewn with old tires, broken children’s toys and a big piece of mottled metal that resembled the hood of a car.

  Arms circled my waist and a bristled jaw scraped against my neck.

  I set my cup down and leaned back into him. “Did all my noise wake you up?”

  His hand dove between my legs. “You should have woken me up,” he said, his voice papered with sleepy lust.

  “Aw man, fuck this,” Dover howled as he returned to the kitchen. “Cover your business, Mulligan.”

  “Can’t. She stole my boxers.”

  I turned and and scanned Tristan’s naked body. “I believe you own more than one pair of boxers.”

  He grinned. “I want those. Hand them over.”

  “I’m getting the hell out of here,” Dover grumbled and hurried for the door.

  Tristan threw a dishtowel at him. “Don’t be so jealous.” He received an obscene gesture for his trouble.

  Tristan’s grin faded when he noticed something in my expression. “What’s wrong?”

  I repeated what Dover had told me about fights after the game, about Nesto’s brother getting shot in the leg. His eyebrows furrowed but he wasn’t shocked.

  “Maybe I should pay a visit to Nesto’s family later,” I said.

  He nodded. “If you want. You can always find them working at the Mart.”

  I seized my coffee cup and plopped down on a chair. “I’m starving. Make me an omelet.”

  He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “You made fun of my omelets, remember?”

  “Beggars can’t be choosers. I’m hungry enough to eat anything.”

  I watched as his hand strayed down to idly stroke his rapidly hardening dick.

  “Let’s do something else first,” he countered.

  A powerful surge of temptation shot between my legs but I squashed it and smiled sweetly. “No. Cook me breakfast first. And then maybe I’ll do something for you.”

  Tristan grumbled but he fired up a frying pan and cooked me a passable omelet. As a reward I returned his boxers to him. And then I did a few other things to him.

  Two erotic hours and a long hot shower later I kissed him goodbye. “Don’t forget we’ve got Aura’s dinner party tonight.”

  He grunted. “Yeah, I can’t wait.”

  “Liar.” I kissed him again. I could kiss him all day. “But you’ll be rewarded if you smile and behave yourself.”

  “Like a good boyfriend?” he smirked and I paused because it was the first time that particular word had ever been uttered by either of us to each other.

  My arms slipped around his strong shoulders and I pressed against him, staring up into his eyes. “Like a good boyfriend,” I agreed and kissed him one last time, a slow, lingering kiss that had the authority to make me forget anyone who had ever kissed me before.

  The smile on my face felt permanent as I drove through the streets of Emblem. Despite the cloud of last night’s violence the day was beautiful. Every passing landmark from Emblem High School to the Dirty Cactus Bar to the expansive brown desert that lay beyond now conjured feelings of familiarity and comfort.

  The feelings of home.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tristan

  I picked the phone up.

  I put the phone down.

  I picked the phone up.

  The game was a terminally boring version of the Hokey Pokey.

  I wanted to call Curtis and I didn’t want to call Curtis. Brecken had extracted a promise from me that I’d reach out to our big brother but the bitterness of our last conversation still gnawed at me.

  I put the phone down.

  Tomorrow was Sunday, bound to be a better choice for difficult phone calls. One more day added to this cooling off period wouldn’t hurt either of us and would give me more time to pick my words. I wasn’t angry with him, maybe just a little hurt. There was history between the two of us that had never been dealt with properly and that was mostly my fault. Even without Breck’s prompting I had every intention of calling Curtis. I just wasn’t doing it today.

  Anyway, I was preoccupied with a matter other than the feud with my brother. My regular supplier was awaiting an answer to the question he’d texted me an hour ago, right after Cadence left. He was making a run south of the border and wanted to know if my stock could use replenishing. It could. I’d already sold all the shit I’d gotten from him last time. This venture was the simplest, low risk means of scoring easy cash I’d ever stumbled across. Even so, there was still danger that some zealous federal bust would trickle down and send me straight to the other side of the razor wire down the road.

  And then there was Cadence.

  What were the chances Cadence Gentry would indefinitely put up with having a drug dealer for a boyfriend? When we got together I thought I was only looking for a good time. I changed my mind the first time I touched her. And whenever she smiled at me another piece of the hard layer surrounding my heart was chipped away. In those moments what I wanted more than anything was to keep her and to make her happy. Thoughts like that were new to me. I was still getting used to them.

  But brooding over my future in a crappy kitchen with nothing but a half empty coffee mug for company wasn’t helpful. I could go down to Adelson’s and ask for some work to kill the hours between now and that dinner party thing. Adelson would find something for me to do.

  That dinner at Aura Campo’s house was something else I kept thinking about. I’d promised to be on my best behavior but considering the guest list that was going to be a tall order.

  Cadence had shared the information rather belatedly that Rod Ward would be there. The idea of eating breadsticks across the table from that guy was enough to make me break out in hives. Still, I was going anyway. I’d already committed to Cadence and I wouldn’t back out on her. I’d just have to grit my teeth and picture him choking on his silver whistle. If Cadence had known the whole story between me and Ward she might have had second thoughts about encouraging us to be in the same place at the same time. Plus, knowing Cadence, she probably would have had some epic confrontation with Ward and I didn’t want that. The guy couldn’t be trusted. A man who would force kids to run in the extreme heat until they passed out might do a lot worse if he was backed into a corner.

  Cadence suspected something was up where he was concerned. She’d asked me about Ward a few times but I hesitated to give her the particulars so I just
shrugged and said that he was an asshole and left it there. My answer made her frown and try to dig for more information but I was good at changing the subject. I felt closer to Cadence than I ever had to anyone else but I still had my limits and crying on her shoulder about getting my head shoved into a toilet years ago was beyond those limits. That episode shouldn’t have stuck with me the way it did anyway. I’d already been wise to the fact that Ward was a vicious fuck and I shouldn’t have cared what he thought. I had no dreams of playing college ball like some of the other guys who were always fantasizing about some big shot scout spotting them from the bleachers. I played football because I got to hit things and score a lot of ass. The clash with Ward just happened to come at a bad time when my life was falling to pieces. My mother was going to be sentenced to prison for her role in an insurance fraud operation and my younger brother who’d just hit his baffling teenage years now helplessly looked to me for guidance. And then there was my older brother, the one who’d bolted after finding trouble in a local gang was now returning to take charge and drag us out of Emblem.

  I thought I had nothing to lose by mouthing off to Ward but he proved me wrong and I knew it the instant my face went into the toilet. I thrashed and struggled and accidentally sucked in mouthfuls of filthy water while hearing a man I was supposed to respect call me the worst things I’d ever thought about myself. The whole incident likely lasted less than ninety seconds but by the time it was over I’d pissed my pants, flooded my lungs and suffered a bitter humiliation that would echo in my mind a thousand times, often when I least expected it. Tattling wasn’t my style but I tried to go about things the right way and report the incident to Mrs. Stiraks, the walking fossil in the guidance counselor’s office. It backfired. Someone tipped Ward off and he presented a different version of events that sentenced me to a five day suspension.

  It was a hard lesson to learn; that lies from some people mattered a lot more than the truth from others.

  Later on I could have gotten revenge if I’d wanted it. The guys I was hanging around with wouldn’t have hesitated to back me up if I’d decided to make Rod Ward choke on his teeth. But I was never into that, making people bleed, not even if they deserved it. If Rod Ward was fool enough to fuck with me now then he’d suffer a hell of an experience but otherwise I had no plans to chase him down in the name of vengeance.

  Ultimately I left my gloomy thoughts behind in the kitchen and drove my truck out to the desert around the same place my dad used to take us. You had to watch your step around here because sometimes folks would go shooting in the area, maybe setting up some rusted out garbage as targets, the sharp cracks of the unseen rifle the only hint of their whereabouts. Using the distant mountain peaks as a compass I tried to estimate if this was the same spot where I’d clutched my brother and howled with laughter as our dad jerked the wheel this way and that, simulating an amusement park ride.

  The day before Curtis left home he took me for a drive out this way and I thought I was the shit, sitting up in the front seat beside my cool big brother as he spun the car in circles, kicking up enough dust to make it look like we were sitting in the middle of a storm. He caught hell when we got home because he’d taken our mother’s car without permission but Curtis didn’t care. He’d already dropped out of school and nothing anyone said or did was going to rein him in. Our mother said the next time he pulled a stunt like that she’d call the cops on him. Nobody believed her but Curtis must have decided all this yelling and hand wringing wasn’t worth his trouble because the next day his bed was empty.

  Our mom cried. So did Brecken. I didn’t.

  After half an hour of searching through my memories and attempting to match them to the scenery I gave up trying to recreate the past. Plus this kind of activity wasn’t any fun if there was no one shrieking and laughing at your side. You were just driving around by yourself in circles in the middle of nowhere. I’d have to bring Cadence next time, maybe share some of those memories and make some new ones. She was always curious about my youth in Emblem, forever wanting to hear stories about my past like she was trying to clear away the fog from the window into my head. Cadence could talk for hours about her family and the things that mattered to her. She didn’t hold anything back, not even the awkward or painful moments, hoping to get the same kind of honesty from me.

  Driving out here hadn’t been a complete waste of time. I’d made a decision. I was going to give Adelson a call and ask if that full time offer was still on the table. I was going to do it right here and now before I found an excuse not to.

  My phone was in my hand when it started buzzing with an incoming call. I stared stupidly at the unfamiliar number for a few seconds before deciding to answer instead of ignoring it.

  “Tristan?” The voice was shaky, trembling. “This is Mary Pike. Do you remember me?”

  “Sure, Mrs. Pike.” I frowned, wondering why in the hell Pike’s mother was searching me out and why she sounded on the verge of tears. “What’s going on?”

  “Is Steven with you? He didn’t come home last night and he’s not answering his phone.”

  I hadn’t seen Pike in days.

  “I’m afraid not. I haven’t heard from him.”

  My answer was not the one she wanted to hear. The poor woman; the car accident that had killed her husband ten years ago had also left her in a wheelchair and her only child was clubbed half to death in an alley last year, leaving him permanently confused and probably dependent for the rest of his life. No wonder why her voice was filled with grief.

  “I’m so worried,” she sniffed. “Steven never goes very far and he always picks up his phone. I called the hospital just in case but he’s not there and I know the police won’t do anything until he’s been out of touch for at least twenty four hours.”

  I thought about how I’d found Pike wandering in the desert that one day. A sense of uneasiness rose in my gut.

  “I can go look for him,” I offered, already mapping out the usual places in my head. The Dirty Cactus. The Emblem Mart. The gas station on the edge of town that sold those cheeseburger hot dogs he liked so much.

  “Would you?” Relief flooded into her voice as if I’d already found him. “Oh dear god, thank you, Tristan.”

  “No problem. Sit tight. I’ll keep you updated.”

  Mary Pike gushed her gratitude one more time before I ended the call and turned the truck back toward Emblem. Chances were high Pike was holed up somewhere in town. I’d find him and see him safely returned to the trailer park where he lived with his mother.

  I hoped it would be that easy.

  But an instinctive sense of dread told me otherwise.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cadence

  My grandfather and his girlfriend Karen were cozied up on the living room couch and watching a show about serial killer Ted Bundy when I got home. They greeted me like they always did, as if I was a rare celebrity adding some welcome color to their lives.

  Karen left the couch and insisted on making me something to eat. Even though I’d already choked down Tristan’s rubbery omelet I wasn’t going to turn down Karen’s gourmet waffles. She added whipped cream and strawberries, setting the plate down in front of me with a proud smile.

  “You’ve got to teach me how to cook,” I said as I started shoveling down bite after bite.

  Karen ran her palm over my hair, a very sweet and maternal gesture. Her own daughter lived Maryland and rarely came to visit. “No, I prefer to keep people beholden to me with the promise of food.”

  I licked a speck of whipped cream off my finger. “I’m beholden all right.”

  She laughed. No one ever had such a pretty laugh or used it as often. A carpet of greyish white hair now covered her tender scalp as her body distanced itself from the cancer.

  “I’m beholden too,” my grandfather declared, entering the kitchen with a wide grin and joining me at the table. Karen was happy to fix him a plate of waffles, apparently his third helping today, but then announced
she had to take off because she was in charge of the rummage sale her church was organizing. She kissed each of our foreheads before exiting and the kitchen immediately felt dimmer without her smile.

  “She’s a keeper,” I announced, finishing off the last bite of my waffle.

  He winked at me. “I think so too.”

  When it came to romance my grandfather hadn’t been the luckiest person. His longest marriage had been with my grandmother and that was a miserable disaster that had been over since my mother reached adulthood. They’d married too young, my mother’s parents, and belatedly realized they couldn’t stand one another. Neither of them were very attentive to their only daughter when she was growing up but my grandfather had long ago realized his error and done his best to atone for his mistakes. My grandmother was another story.

  My grandfather chewed on his waffle, specks of whipped cream dotting his beard as he watched me. “Do you know how much you look like your mom?”

  Cami resembled our mother far more closely than I did. But I knew there were moments when I was obviously my mother’s daughter. And there were times when I was just as noticeably my father’s daughter.

  “I’ve been told I’m equal parts Cord and Saylor Gentry,” I said.

  “And I would agree.”

  I handed him a napkin so he could do something about the whipped cream in his beard. “I was thinking I should find a place of my own and get out of your hair.”

  He shook his head with vehemence. “Cadence, I’ve told you over and over again that having you here is a gift.”

  “I know, but if I’m ever in the way you just let me know.”