Tristan (The Ruins of Emblem #1)

by Cora Brent

  “How could you be in the way? Lately you’re always off with that boyfriend of yours.”

  “Tristan.” Even saying his name made me feel a touch lightheaded.

  “Tristan.” A stern look crossed my grandfather’s bearded face. “Does he treat you well?”

  “He takes me dancing, cooks me breakfast and makes me laugh.”

  Tristan also did a few other things that weren’t appropriate to mention to my grandfather so I kept them to myself.

  He was satisfied. “I’m glad he’s got enough sense to know he’s lucky to have you. As for finding a place of your own, there’s absolutely no rush. I mean it when I say that I love having you here. Reminds me of the years when I was fortunate enough to have my daughter living under this roof.” He sniffed but then smiled. “Before she grew up, escaped to college and then married a Gentry boy.”

  I found myself leaning forward, suddenly eager to hear more about the people who were only stories to me. “What were they like, Grandpa? The Gentrys I mean. I’ve heard about them but only bits and pieces. You knew them when they were all living here.”

  He stopped eating his waffle and became thoughtful, staring at the bougainvillea vines crawling up a trellis outside the kitchen window. “They’d been there for generations, a big angry lot of them living on that unincorporated wasteland just beyond Old Farm Road. They were always in trouble, always drinking and fighting anything that looked at them cross-eyed, always being hauled off by the law for one reason or another. Growing up in Emblem in those days meant you learned early to stay away from anything with the last name Gentry if you wanted to keep your teeth intact and your blood in your veins.”

  I’d known this already. But I still hung on every word, trying to envision the world my father had been born into, the people whose legacy I shared whether I wanted to or not.

  My grandfather sighed and he stroked a section of his beard as his memories turned in a more troubling direction.

  “Your grandmother Maggie wasn’t like the rest of them. Gentle, beautiful, a gifted artist. Your father inherited his artistic talent from Maggie. I remember thinking that a sweet little thing like her would get eaten alive in the middle of all the Gentrys’ violent madness. And she did. Eventually she did.”

  His eyes hardened and I could guess who he was thinking about now.

  “As for your grandfather Benton…He was every bit the bastard everyone always said he was. He made life a living hell for Maggie, and for your dad and his brothers. I’ve got to tell you I’ve never wished for the death of another human being but I was damn glad when Benton died, glad that he could no longer pose a threat to your parents and to you girls. Benton never did a kind thing in his miserable life and I’m happy you never met him, Cadence.”

  “Me too,” I murmured with a shudder and then a flash of grief as I thought about Cord, Creed and Chase Gentry and what kind of childhood they must have endured at the hands of Benton Gentry. Perhaps those three little boys had only survived because they had each other, the Gentry triplets against the world.

  I hung out with my grandfather a while longer and switched to more pleasant subjects. He intended to surprise Karen with a Caribbean cruise for the holidays. He was also excited over the prospect of welcoming another great grandchild into the world.

  In the afternoon he had plans to go play a few card games with Leah’s dad and I had some papers to grade. After an hour of wincing through egregious misuses of the English language I set aside the efforts of my freshman class and decided to leave the rest of the essays for tomorrow in case I needed something depressing to look at. I did some light cleaning so that my grandfather wouldn’t decide I was a slob and regret inviting me to stay as long as possible. Then I left for the Emblem Mart to locate a decent bottle of wine to bring to Aura’s dinner tonight. I was also hoping to run into Nesto or his mother and express my regrets over Rafael’s injury. Even keeping in mind everything Tristan had told me about the elder Rivera brother, getting shot in the leg wasn’t a small issue.

  As I pulled into the parking lot of the Emblem Mart, three young guys were grouped around a flashy gold low rider that would have impressed some of my gear head uncles. Upon closer examination I realized these guys were too old to be Emblem High students and openly drank from bottles that had had likely just been purchased inside the store. Not one of them looked familiar. They watched me emerge from my car and I heard a low whistle plus guttural words that caused the group to bust up in bawdy laughter. Starting a conversation with them wasn’t high on my wish list so I turned away and crossed the parking lot to get to the door.

  A kid around fourteen years old was stocking soup cans on a nearby shelf. He looked up, offered a courteous smile and returned to his task. If he wasn’t Nesto’s brother then he had to be related in some other way, a cousin maybe. His smile was polite and then he resumed stocking shelves. No one else was in sight so I roamed to the back of the store where the liquor bottles were lined up like colorful soldiers. The wine selection was predictably meager, mostly comprised of cheap varieties that were meant to be gulped by the bottle for the purpose of getting drunk, not daintily sipped at a social gathering.

  Ultimately I selected a brand of white wine that sometimes graced my mother’s table at holidays and when I approached the checkout counter a woman who was the right age to be Nesto’s mother was waiting so I introduced myself. Her eyes were red and tired but she smiled when she heard my name.

  “Nesto talks about you,” she said. “He says you’re his favorite teacher.”

  “He’s one of my favorite students,” I replied honestly. “Your son’s very bright. And he has a real flair for writing.”

  The compliment broadened her smile. “He used to write stories when he was a little boy. I don’t know if he still does. He won’t tell me.”

  I was sorry to break the mood but I felt like I had to say something about her other son. “I heard what happened after the game last night. I hope Rafael is going to be all right.”

  Her smile vanished, replaced by sadness. “He was very fortunate. The wound was minor and I was told he was released from the hospital this morning. As for where he is now…” She shrugged her shoulders in a helpless gesture. “I don’t know. After all, I’m only his mother.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said because I didn’t know what else to offer in the face of a mother’s anguish.

  She bagged up the wine. “Nesto is at home today. I didn’t want him running into anyone who had anything to do with what happened to his brother. Plus some of his friends were in a fight last night and he doesn’t need that kind of trouble.”

  I accepted the bag of wine. “Please tell him I said hello and if he needs anything at school then he can always come to me.”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  The young boy I’d seen working when I arrived appeared on the scene. “Hey Ma, I finished stocking all the soup. Can I go down to the basketball courts now?”

  His mother didn’t like that idea. “No. Go in the storeroom and do some sweeping.”

  The kid groaned and trudged toward the back of the store.

  “My youngest,” she explained to me. “You might see him in one of your classes next year.” She sighed and stared at the spot where her child had been standing a moment ago. “You try to do your best to keep them safe and close. Sometimes it just isn’t enough.”

  Without any keen insights handy I reached across the counter and touched her arm in comfort before turning away.

  I reached the glass doors and then froze with my palm on the handle. A woman was walking by. She was older but her figure in khaki pants and a pink blouse was trim and her pace even in high heeled sandals was quick. Her hair should have been gray but it had been dyed a brassy blonde and stylishly cut into a bob that framed her chin. She carried herself in the manner of a woman who had once been beautiful and was vain about it, probably still was.

  Without thinking twice I flung the door open and took several
large strides before I called out her name.

  “Laura!”

  She turned around, a vague smile touching her thin lips. The smile didn’t disappear right away when she looked at me but her eyes were confused, as if she recognized that I was familiar in some way but she couldn’t quite place the connection.

  I cleared my throat and ended the mystery.

  “I’m Cadence Gentry. I’m Saylor’s daughter. Your granddaughter.”

  Her smile was exactly the same in the old photos I’d seen of her at my grandfather’s house, less of a smile than a forced baring of teeth. And now it vanished, along with all of the color in her face. But somehow she pulled her composure together.

  “Hello Cadence,” she said and her eyes darted around, a panicked animal looking for escape.

  “It’s about time we met, don’t you think?” I asked.

  I didn’t know how closely she’d followed my mother’s life since they became estranged. For all I knew my grandmother had no idea that I even existed before now.

  “Is she visiting with you?” she asked, a little fearfully. “Your mother?”

  “No she’s not. And I’m not visiting. I live here now. In fact I teach at the high school. My mother still lives in Tempe with my father.” My tone became intentionally sarcastic. “You might remember him. Cord Gentry.”

  The name still had power over her and she flinched, likely recalling how she’d cast her own daughter aside for the crime of marrying into the most notoriously trashy family around.

  “I hope your mother and father are doing well,” she said, already beginning to turn away. “It was nice meeting you, Cadence.”

  “Wait. Please. ” I grabbed her bony arm before she could scurry off like a rat.

  “Let go of me,” she hissed and I saw her then as she really was, harsh and miserable and still in the grips of her own bitterness after all these years. She should regret everything that she missed by holding onto such resentment. She should be consumed with shame and remorse. She should want to hear everything about her daughter and her daughter’s children. She should be delighted to hear that she was now a great grandmother. But I could see in her watery eyes that she was already planning to forget this moment here on Main Street. This moment when she was confronted by someone she had no desire to know.

  “She doesn’t need you,” I said to my grandmother, wanting to extract some small vengeance on behalf of my mother. “She doesn’t need you at all. None of us do.”

  My fingers left her arm and she searched my face for a few seconds, perhaps glimpsing the shadow of one or both of my parents. But whatever thoughts were going through her head would be kept to herself.

  “Good for you,” she said. “And goodbye.”

  She didn’t glance back once and in a moment she turned the corner. I knew we wouldn’t be speaking again and I leaned against the side of the building, feeling despondent.

  I’d wondered about her for so long. I’d wondered what kind of a person would throw away her only daughter for the crime of falling in love. Now that I’d met her I understood there was never a chance she’d change.

  What a contrast between her and Nesto’s mother. One wore herself out trying to fight for a better future for her children. The other wanted only to erase the fact that she’d ever been a mother.

  I knew then how very lucky I was to be Cadence Gentry.

  I hugged the bottle of wine to my chest and returned to my car. The same jerks were still there in the parking lot and they lobbed a few disgusting insults in my direction but I ignored them and got out of there as fast as I could. Once I was back in front of the comfortable house on Globe Street I picked up my phone and did something I should do more often. I sent a text to both of my parents. As the words floated out into the world I imagined their smiles when their phones pinged with the message I meant with all my heart.

  I love you both so much.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tristan

  There were only so many logical places to search within the Emblem town limits. I drove out to the spot where I’d seen Pike wandering around last time just in case he was drawn to that location for some reason. Then I headed over to the Dirty Cactus because even if Pike wasn’t there it was the most likely way to discover news of his whereabouts.

  Leah flagged me down as soon as I crossed the threshold and my stomach clenched, sure that if Leah was all bent out of shape then something had to be wrong with Cadence. But that wasn’t the case.

  “I just heard that Pike got picked up last night,” she said.

  “Picked up? For what?”

  She glanced at a pair of men at the bar. Despite their plain clothes I recognized them both as sheriff’s deputies. One of them turned around, stared at me, then went back to his drink. Leah lowered her head and started wiping down the nearest table. When she moved toward the next one I followed and at the fourth table, the one farthest from the bar, she finally spoke again.

  “You know Tim Stoker?” she asked.

  “That motherfucking psycho? Yeah, he used to set the tails of cats on fire in middle school.”

  She grimaced. “He was always a bad egg. Hangs out with the Rojas brothers all the time now.”

  “Those two dickheads who came up from Tucson last year?”

  She nodded.

  “What have they got to do with Pike?”

  She kept an eye on the men at the bar and lowered her voice. “They all come in here a few times a week and lately they’ve been getting friendly with Pike, taking him out and getting him to believe that they liked his company. I’ve heard they deal the hard stuff. Heroin. Meth. They turned Pike into their mascot and whenever they had some business they would take him along, cram his pockets full of goods and have him do the physical hand off. If they got any hint that something was starting to go sideways they would just dump him somewhere with plans to go back for him later. Most people around here know about Pike and no one would suspect him as a drug mule. But this afternoon when some rookie who just started with Emblem PD found him wandering around he asked for ID and when Pike reached into his pockets, guess what came tumbling out. Pike might have been confused or maybe he’s covering for those sons of bitches but he said he found a pile of drugs when he was out for a walk. And you know how believable that sounds.”

  “Fuck.” I was incensed. “So he was arrested?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure. I mean, it’s obvious Pike is not a drug dealing mastermind. The guy can barely tie his shoes so I have my doubts they’ll be able to keep him long or make any charges stick. But the minute they let him go Stoker and the Rojas brothers will be looking for him. And I’d worry more about them than I would about the law.”

  She was right. Stoker and his minions were a fucking cancer and they wouldn’t lose any sleep over cracking Pike’s head open for good to keep him quiet. Now would be a damn good time to have some help at my side. Not too long ago I would have had no trouble rounding up a few boys who didn’t mind getting some blood on their hands. But most of my old connections were dead, imprisoned or no longer on friendly terms. There was no one left to call. I’d wanted to be on my own and now I was. Even Dover couldn’t be tapped for a favor like this now that he wearing a correctional officer uniform.

  That didn’t mean I was going to shy away from the task.

  Hell no.

  “Thanks for the tip,” I told Leah and she nodded but then she stepped in front of me before I could go anywhere.

  “Please don’t do anything that’s going to make Cadence cry.”

  I would rather eat lead paint than make Cadence cry but she didn’t have anything to do with this and I couldn’t make promises to Leah right now.

  “Appreciate your concern,” I said and Leah sighed but she let me go without any more appeals.

  My first plan was to go shake a few trees and see if Stoker fell out of one. I passed the police station as I drove down Main Street and I hoped Pike was still in there. A building full of cops was
actually the safest place for him right now.

  When I was stopped at a light I noticed Cadence’s car heading in the opposite direction but she was looking straight ahead and didn’t see me. That was a small blessing because I didn’t want to explain to her what I was up to right now. I watched her car turn right and was glad she wasn’t stopping by the Cactus. Leah was sure to blab to her friend about everything she’d just told me.

  I’d reached the north end of Main Street and was planning to turn right when I slammed on my brakes. Stoker’s hideous low rider was parked sideways in the parking lot of Emblem Mart and its prick owner was out there in plain sight, his bright orange hair sticking out in all directions as he guzzled a forty with the Rojas brothers.

  I swung into the lot so hard my tires screeched and I slammed on the brakes inches from Stoker’s gleaming rear bumper. He was already sneering when I hopped out.

  “Fucking hell, Mulligan, watch your ass. You scratch up my shit and I’ll feed your balls to my pet snake.”

  His companions shrieked with laughter like they’d just been treated to a punch line at a comedy club. Then the three of them stared at me with an eager glint in their eyes, daring me to do something stupid, which I was on the verge of doing anyway. I’d sprung from my truck feeling blind rage over the prospect of confronting Stoker and hadn’t grabbed the handgun I kept in my glove compartment. I couldn’t very well go back for it now without being obvious. That was probably a good thing because once you stuck guns into the equation shit got really messy really fast. And anyway I had no plans to shoot anyone, not even Cat Killer Stoker. Nonetheless, I wished I was coming toward them with something besides my two fists as backup even though we were out here in broad daylight on Emblem’s main drag. I was bigger than any of them but three against one was still three against one.

  I got within six inches from Stoker’s face. “Stay the fuck away from Pike from now on.”

  Stoker snorted. “What are you, his mother? What the hell do you care anyway, that pinhead barely knows who he is anymore.”