Tristan (The Ruins of Emblem #1)

by Cora Brent

  “Thanks, Uncle Deck,” I said.

  “Anytime,” he said. “You tell me if the kid has any more trouble, if he needs anything else. Let him know he’s one of us, that we’ve got his back.”

  “I will.”

  Uncle Deck paused. He might be the most perceptive man to walk the earth, at least that’s what my father always said about him. “Is everything else going all right down there in Emblem?”

  Not really, I wanted to say.

  “I hear you’re dating the Mulligan kid,” Deck continued.

  “Yeah,” I said because it was easier than delving into complexities. “I’m with Tristan.”

  “Tristan’s old man and I went way back. You probably knew that. I was worried he’d never get his act together but if you see something in him then I guess he’s doing all right.”

  I didn’t answer. No cheerful words would force themselves out of my mouth just then.

  “Cadence?”

  “Uncle Deck,” I blurted. “Do you have days when you wonder whether you’re going about anything the right way?”

  The question didn’t bother him. “Now and then,” he admitted. “Luckily your Aunt Jenny keeps me grounded. What’s this about?”

  A tear fell down my cheek. I had no idea where it came from. Tears were becoming a regular thing for me these days. “I’m just being dramatic. Kiss Aunt Jenny and Izzy for me.”

  He was quiet for a few long seconds. “Will do,” he finally said.

  The hallways were virtually empty. Along with cancelling the school dance and half the extracurricular activities Bertram was enforcing a strict No Loitering policy after the last bell. There was no echoing laughter, no stealthy couples kissing in the shadows. The building didn’t feel like a high school, more like the hushed, eerie interior of a prison.

  There was no homecoming committee meeting. As for my boyfriend, he was probably (hopefully) on his way north to visit Curtis and Brecken. This wasn’t a good time to call him and blubber about all my worries.

  But it was a good time to go visit a distant cousin at the Emblem Medical Center.

  The nurse at the reception desk was dubious when I asked for access to Landon’s room. “Are you family?”

  I met her eye. “Yes. My name is Cadence Gentry.”

  “Oh.” She nodded and luckily didn’t ask how closely we were related. She gave me his room number, buzzed me through the door, and looked past me for the next person in line.

  Landon was alone in his room. An IV bag dripped into his arm but he wasn’t hooked up to any machines, which was a good sign. He no longer looked like a tough guy who shot his mouth off and sneered at authority. He looked like a sad boy sitting in a hospital bed with a bruised face.

  “Knock knock,” I said before entering.

  He looked away from the television, obviously surprised to see me. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I heard what happened and I came to check on you.”

  Landon frowned. “You’re not even my teacher.”

  “But I’m a teacher. And everyone’s real worried about you at school. I’m also your cousin by the way. Distant, but still family. We have the same great grandfather.”

  He wasn’t impressed with the news and his eyes wandered back to the television. “No shit?”

  “It’s true.” I paused. “Is it all right if I come in?”

  “Whatever.”

  I pulled a chair up to his bed. “How are you feeling?”

  He snorted and then winced. “Shitty. They thought my lung might be punctured but it’s not. Just four broken ribs and a concussion.” His expression clouded. “I could have taken him if he didn’t outweigh me by about a hundred pounds. Fat fucking bastard.”

  “I’m sorry, Landon.”

  “Why? You’re not the one who slammed my head against the fridge and kept kicking while my little brother cried and my mother screamed.” He blinked back tears and then swiped at his eyes angrily.

  “Is your mother here?” I asked, trying to sound gentle and caring, like my own mother.

  “She was earlier. She told me she feels real crappy about this because she kept promising she’d toss him out after the last time he got into it with me. But I heard he was released on bail this afternoon and she said she had to go run some errands.” His face crumpled. “I fucking know she went to go see him.”

  “Maybe not,” I said, searching for something to cling to that might make him feel a little better.

  He looked at me like I was a raving moron. “I know her. You don’t. She cares more about having a man than she cares about anything else.”

  I had no advice for him. Nothing in my own life experience was applicable to what he was going through. Suddenly and desperately I wished for my father. My father would understand. He’d walked in Landon’s shoes before, or at least a similar pair. I reached into my purse for the only thing I could offer this battered kid.

  “I have something for you.” I withdrew the flowery Get Well card that I’d picked up in the tiny gift shop downstairs.

  He finally broke into a rather amused smile. “A card? That’s a new one.”

  I set it down on the bed next to him. “It’s not just a card. There’s some information in there. My cell number. And the number of a man named Deck Gentry who wants you to reach out if you need anything. You or your brother. I also included the number of a crisis hotline if you don’t want to call either of us.”

  He stared at the card but didn’t touch it. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I want you to be okay. And I want to help you if you’re ever not okay.”

  He finally picked up the card and opened it. “I hope this get well wish will give your spirits an awesome lift,” he read.

  “There wasn’t much of a selection downstairs,” I admitted.

  He grinned. “Obviously.”

  I grinned back. “Seems like it’s having the intended effect.”

  He set down the card and sank into the pillows. “I know Ward has got to be flipping his shit because I’m out for the season.” Landon scowled. “I’ll never hear the end of it, how I fucked up the team by letting some pudgy prick flatten me.”

  “To hell with Ward,” I said with vehemence.

  Landon stared at me for a few stunned seconds and then broke into a slow smile.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Fuck that guy.”

  “Fuck him to Jupiter and back.”

  Landon thought that was funny. Unfortunately laughter wasn’t the best idea for someone with broken ribs. Soon the nurse appeared needing to take some vitals. Since I didn’t want to hover I stood up to leave and told Landon to keep in mind what I’d said. He didn’t promise anything but he was definitely more cheerful than he’d been when I walked in earlier. His mother, however, hadn’t returned.

  By the time I closed myself inside my car the full impact of the day hit me. I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against the steering wheel, suddenly so tired I could easily cry once more.

  What had I been hoping to accomplish here in Emblem? After all, what good did it do a kid to have Shakespeare’s sonnets shoved under his nose when he was worried about staying alive in his own home? Why insist on making him learn the rules on diagramming sentences if his belly rumbled so loudly from hunger that he couldn’t think straight?

  I started the car and drove off, not knowing the answers to those questions.

  In fact I was starting to believe I didn’t know much of anything.

  Chapter Twenty

  Tristan

  Before I hit the road I debated calling Cadence. She’d be near the end of her day at school, probably standing before her class at that very moment and trying to get them all excited about obscure grammar rules.

  The vision made me smile. Not too long ago I’d scoffed at her hope and optimism, sure that she was wasting her time trying to be some kind of academic liberator. I’d never laugh at her determination now. Cadence with her Positivity Passes and endless compass
ion did more the help other people in a single day than I’d done in my whole life.

  The sunlight glinted off the forbidding layers of metal fencing surrounding the prison. Usually I just drive right by and didn’t give the place a second glance but today I slowed down and gave it a hard look. If you squint in a certain way the prison looked like an ugly flat-roofed castle, a hideous fortress looming over the weary town at its feet.

  When people think about crime and violence and poverty and struggling families they picture some teeming inner city scene. They don’t imagine a desperate little prison town dotted with trailer parks, surrounded by desert and trying to somehow hang on.

  And yet we are still here. Whether the whole wide world notices us or not. We are still here.

  I sped up and left Emblem in my rearview mirror for today. The drive to Tempe took a little over an hour, which gave me plenty of time to think. Cadence’s dad owned the semi-famous tattoo parlor where my brother worked and he was bound to be there today so I reminded myself to be extra respectful. I knew Cord Gentry didn’t have a high opinion of me but I could change that. I could be the kind of model citizen he’d be happy to see with his daughter. I could be like Curtis. Maybe. I could try.

  Curtis usually worked five or six days a week so I took it for granted that he’d be in the office today but I’d forgotten his wife also worked at the same place. Cassie was the first person I saw when I walked in. Her back was to me and she was pointing to a rack of shirts accented with Scratch’s logo while giving instructions to a skinny female employee who chewed her lip and shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

  The door emitted a tinny little chime that caught Cassie’s attention and she turned around, her eyes widening at the sight of me.

  “Tristan!” She was on her way over, already offering a hug. My brother’s wife had this magical gift for making you feel like you were the person she most wanted to see at that particular moment.

  “Hey, beautiful.” I hugged her carefully because I knew nothing about pregnant women and wasn’t sure how fragile they were. Cassie looked as she always did, radiant and happy. Her clothes might be a little baggier than normal but other than that she looked just the same as she had the day she married my brother. I’d gone to their wedding, a spontaneous gathering at the courthouse, the reception held at the same local pizzeria where Brecken now worked. I remembered that day very clearly, remembered how Cassie’s younger sister had accidentally smacked me in the back in the middle of loudly bragging that no guy would be able to handle her. At the time I blew her off as a stuck-up brat. First impressions. Sometimes they were dead wrong.

  Mrs. Mulligan pulled back to scrutinize me. “Is that a bruise under your eye?” She was concerned now, maternal, trying to take a closer look with all kinds of concern written all over her face. “Were you in a fight?”

  “Nah.” I brushed off her worry. “I walked into a door, that’s all.”

  She was skeptical. “Must have been some door.”

  “Yup. Nasty bastard of a door.”

  Cassie laughed. Her sister’s laugh sounded exactly the same. “So did you just happen to be up here? Or are you wanting a new tattoo?”

  “I do want a new tattoo. But that’ll have to wait until some other time. Is my brother around?”

  “He’s here, back in the workshop. But first come see something.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the reception desk, snatching a sparkly pink phone from the counter. Cassie scrolled for a few seconds and then proudly turned the screen around. “I had an ultrasound this morning. You’re looking at the first glimpse of Baby Mulligan.”

  “Well, look at that,” I said, feeling awed that that the grayish blob on Cassie’s phone was my niece or nephew, a person I was destined to love and protect.

  Cassie was smiling at me and cradling her belly, which was still pretty flat. “What do you think? Pretty cool, huh?”

  “Pretty cool,” I agreed, handing her phone back.

  “Hang out here for a second and I’ll find your brother,” she said and scurried off.

  The female employee who’d been chewing her lip was now straightening coffee mugs. A few customers waited in the lobby chairs beneath an impressive collection of framed artwork, probably all designed by Cord Gentry himself. I took a seat in an empty chair and waited for Curtis, drumming my fingers on my knee to break up my inner tension.

  I was now the same age Curtis was when he was saddled with the care of two younger brothers, one of whom was a furious teenager determined to give him a bad time. Would I have been able to step up the way he had? Would I have stuck around when everything turned to shit and there seemed to be no light at the end of the tunnel? I’d asked myself that question the whole drive here and I still couldn’t answer it. However there was no point in speculating because I’d never have to find out.

  The night I took off for good he’d begged me to stay. He was wise about the world that awaited me out there on the streets and he was desperate to convince me of all the things he already knew. And then he followed me down there, showing up at the shitty outpost where I was holed up to make one last desperate plea.

  “If you ever need me you come find me. I don’t care what you’ve done or how much time has gone by. Promise you’ll come find me.”

  “I promise.”

  “Tristan.” He appeared and was already smiling, just happy to see that I was really here, relieved that our last angry words weren’t going to be permanent.

  “I’m sorry,” I told him and his smile broadened.

  Curtis opened his arms for a hug. “I’m sorry too, man.”

  I stepped into the hug and heard his grunt of surprise when I squeezed his ribcage. “No, Curt. I mean, I’m sorry.” For the years of distance between us, for the agony of my defiance, for the choices I’d made and didn’t make, for breaking his heart. And Brecken’s.

  Curtis had wracked up some mistakes in his past but my brother had turned into the best man I knew. He was my hero, everything I could ever hope to be.

  His wife stood a few feet away, watching the scene with her fingers pressed to her lips.

  He thumped my back. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

  There was plenty to be sorry about. I released him and now he took a step back to get a better look at me.

  “What the hell happened?”

  “An impolite door,” Cassie piped up, stepping over to offer me a wink and take her husband’s arm. “I’ve got everything covered here. Why don’t you go show Tristan the local sights, maybe take him out to a late lunch.”

  Curtis raised an eyebrow at me. “You got time for that?”

  “I’ve got all the time.”

  We tried to get Cassie to come along but she insisted she needed to stay behind to handle anything that might come up because her dad wasn’t around.

  “Apparently we have an exchange program going on with Emblem today,” she teased.

  I was puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  Curtis cleared his throat. “Cord’s on his way down to Emblem to visit Cadence.”

  “Yeah?” I was surprised. As far as I knew, Cord Gentry avoided Emblem like it was a contagious virus.

  “Go on,” Cassie urged, pushing us out the door now. “Go enjoy some brotherly bonding moments. Don’t hurry back.”

  We went to a sit down all American type eatery that served burgers and a range of fried food. Curtis was hesitant, almost cautious, like he was afraid if he said the wrong thing I’d storm off. I wouldn’t do that. Not today or any other day.

  “So do you and Cassie want a boy or a girl?” I asked him in order the push the conversation along.

  He accepted his plate from the waitress and smiled as he considered the question. “Pretty sure we’d happily take either one.”

  “I hope it’s a girl,” I said. “The world needs smart, beautiful Gentry girls more than it needs pain in the ass Mulligan boys.”

  “Speaking of Gentry girls,” he said slowly, carefully
. “How’s that going? You and Cadence?”

  I took my time answering, wanting to choose the right words so he’d understand I wasn’t bullshitting.

  “She’s the best thing that ever happened to me, Curtis.”

  He broke into a grin. “Damn, no kidding?”

  “No kidding.” I paused, debating how much to tell my brother and ultimately deciding to tell him everything. “And I almost lost her.”

  His grin faded. “Why?”

  He knew the names. Steve Pike. Tim Stoker. Raf Rivera. There was only one person I could have told the story to who would have understood every word and I was fortunate enough to be sitting across the table from him. Curtis didn’t need to ask questions, didn’t need me to explain how it felt to balance on the cliff that divided my life between happiness with the girl of my dreams and a bleak, violent fate.

  “I’ve got a chance,” I told him at the end. “It’s one that I might not deserve but I’m going to work on earning it. And I swear, Curtis, I’ll always do right by her. I’d never drag her down.”

  His face was pained. “Tristan, ever since those words came out of my mouth I’ve felt shitty about saying them.”

  “Don’t. They were brutally honest words. Ones I’ve had to ask myself. I can’t say I know why that girl has her heart set on me but I’ll do my best to figure it out.”

  My brother cocked his head and considered. “I know what she sees in you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Sure. She sees that you’re the same boy who once found an injured ground squirrel and nursed it back to health in a shoebox that stayed beside his bed the whole time.”