If it wasn’t for Nialla, I’d be dead. And I don’t mean that in a oh, isn’t that lovely way some people talk about their girlfriends. I mean reality. She taught me how to avoid pissing Rick off too much, enough that he’s only seriously hurt me a few times. She taught me how to shut down emotionally. How to protect myself. How to stay huddled inside in the few places left where they couldn’t touch me.
Nialla taught me how to guard myself.
She taught me what to do to humor Rick, to keep him happy, to keep him satisfied.
She taught me how to take myself to faraway places in my mind when real life became too painful to bear.
She taught me how to be numb.
Now? I don’t feel anything for anyone, except my parents and Sam, who I’ll never see again, and Nialla, who I love.
The first time I saw Rick and Nialla I felt immediate tension. It was a few weeks before my sixteenth birthday, and I was hanging out at Scott Towson’s house with Chase.
We often hung out in the basement drinking, and when Rick walked into the room with Nialla, Chase tensed suddenly, the muscles running up his thighs where they touched me flexing suddenly. I responded to his tension, putting a hand on his knee, looking where he was. I was a little light-headed. Light-headed from a couple of drinks, but mostly light-headed from Chase.
Rick was tall, with short cropped hair and frightening brown eyes. I guess if I looked at them alone, they’d seem warm. Or maybe they were just colored by my memories. But I remember being scared by his cold expression, by the tense, bunched muscles of his tattooed arms exposed in a sleeveless shirt. He walked into the room with his arm on Nialla’s. He held her arm in a possessive, almost controlling way. Her eyes moved everywhere in the room in a way that made my skin crawl. She was terrified of something and seemed to be clinging onto Rick for dear life.
“‘Sup, Chase?” Rick said.
“Hey, man,” Chase replied. But his tone was lifeless.
Rick looked at me, his eyes hooded, then looked at Chase. “Introduce me to your girl?”
Chase spoke in a low, careful tone. “Brenna, this is Rick. Rick, Brenna.” No one introduced the girl who was with him, the girl I would later know was named Nialla, the girl who would become my savior.
His tone scared me. I didn’t know what was going on here. I’m not sure I wanted to know. Abruptly, Chase said, “We gotta get going.”
Rick’s mouth curved up in an amused half smile. “Later, Chase. Brenna.” There was a pause before he said my name, a tension-filled pause as his eyes rested on me, and it sent a shiver of fear down my neck. But I’m ashamed to say, it also sent down a shiver of … fascination? No one had ever looked at me that way. Chase loved me. But a look of naked lust? It was disturbing, frightening … and a little thrilling.
Whatever it was, I followed Chase out, his hand tightly clamped on mine. So hard that it hurt a little bit. I could feel Rick’s eyes on my ass and legs as we walked away, and my neck flushed.
We got to his car, and Chase said, “Promise me you’ll stay away from Rick.”
I swallowed then gave him a surprised look, one eyebrow raised. “I have no intention of being around Rick. You’re my boyfriend, Chase. I love you.”
He turned his head toward me and leaned close. “I’m not saying this out of jealousy, Brenna. He’s … that dude spooks me like no one I’ve ever met. He just started hanging around, nobody knows where he came from. It’s … I don’t know. Just … I don’t want you coming here without me.”
What the hell? Did he think he owned me? I gave him a glare. “If you don’t trust me, just say it, why don’t you? I’ve been hanging out at Scott’s since before we met, in case you forgot.”
He closed his eyes. “Brenna. Please.”
“Fine.” I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest. I was still a little drunk, and a lot angry. I stared out the window as he put the car in gear and backed out of the parking lot. He pulled out into traffic too quickly, the tires squealing, and I heard another car honk at us.
I gritted my teeth a little. “Just because you’re angry with me doesn’t mean you can risk my life.”
He was silent for a full minute or two, aggressively changing gears and shifting through traffic. Too fast. My heart beat quickly, and I gripped the door with my right hand. Finally, he took a deep breath and slowed down.
“Brenna, I’m not angry with you. I just don’t trust that guy at all. I worry about you. You’re so damn young.”
“What the hell does my age have to do with it, Chase? We’ve been through this.”
He looked away from me, his jaw clenching. “It has everything to do with it. You’re fucking fifteen years old, Brenna.”
I closed my eyes and sniffed, blinking back tears. Was he backing out? Because I was younger than he was? Is that what this was all about? “I’ll be sixteen in two weeks. And you promised.”
“I know I did, baby. But that doesn’t change the fact that even after your birthday … I could still go to prison if we do what you want.”
I swallowed. “You know I wouldn’t tell anyone,” I whispered.
“Yeah? What about your mom and dad? They can’t be fucking thrilled about us dating.”
“I can handle them.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“You don’t want me.”
“I want you more than I want to breathe. I want you so badly I could die right now, Brenna. But you gotta admit this is all fucked up.”
I felt tears rolling down my face. And that pissed me off. Nobody made me cry. Nobody. “So … what? This is it? Thanks for the good times?”
“No!” He slammed his fist into the steering wheel. The car horn sounded a short blast in response to the first.
“Then what?”
“I just want you to fucking listen to me, Brenna. Rick is dangerous. That’s it! Everything else is the same, including the fact that you’re too stubborn to listen to anyone else but you. But I’m asking you to listen to me on this one, okay?”
I felt my lips twitch around my mouth and held my teeth together in a tight grip. Trying to compose myself. I swiped at the evidence of tears on my face, looking out the window. Finally I said, “Yeah. I’ll listen. I don’t give a shit about him anyway. It’s just … Scott’s house is like, I don’t know, it’s always been a safe haven. It’s like you’re telling me I can’t go home.”
I didn’t have to tell him that we’d met and become friends there. That our romance had begun there, in that basement. We’d told my parents that we met at a coffee shop, because it was unspoken in our circle that Scott’s basement was never talked about. His parents were never around, and even when they were, they stayed clear of the basement. Scott had turned it into a rec room, filled with beanbags and old secondhand couches, a big-screen TV, and a no-questions-asked policy with weed and alcohol. I didn’t smoke it much, but the vibe there was good, and I didn’t get a lot of questions about my age or anything else. And that was what I wanted, right?
I didn’t know what I wanted. I didn’t know anything, did I? Because if I’d had a clue what was coming, I’d have run like hell. I’d have curled up at home with my mother and never left the house again.
Hindsight is like that. You look back and think about how it could have been. If only. If only I’d never gone to Scott’s house. If only I hadn’t met Rick and Nialla there. If only I hadn’t accepted Rick’s friend request on Facebook when it came three days later.
If only I had listened to Chase’s warning.
Brenna
Tuesday night.
Sam had finally left my room, where we’d spent thirty minutes going through my makeup. Dad was out of town, and Mom was doing whatever, so I was finally free. My room was clear on the other side of the house from hers, so I was pretty much guaranteed all the privacy I needed, unless Sam came back in, and I never really minded that.
I booted up my computer then hopped on Facebook. It’s not that I was doing
anything really secretive. I just didn’t like Mom and Dad snooping in my business. And snoop they often did. Dad knew a lot about computers, so if I wanted any privacy at all, I had to be careful.
I froze, though, when I logged in. New friend request. From someone named Rick Sutton. I studied the picture. That was him. The guy I’d met the other night at Scott’s. The picture looked a little younger than he looked the other night. Younger, and somehow less frightening. He had a friendly, engaging grin.
It was just online, it’s not like I had to see him. So I did the stupidest thing I’d ever done in my life. If there was moment that sealed my fate, this was it.
I clicked yes.
Less than thirty seconds later a message box appeared.
Hey there.
I froze. Jesus. What did he want? I wrote back: Hi! What are you doing?
His answer was immediate. Thinking about u. The other night was a little weird, and I wanted to apologize.
Well, that was weird. What for?
He replied, Nialla was really upset about some family stuff. So we were both a little off. Anyway, you gonna be at Scott’s any time soon?
My heart was thumping in my chest. I didn’t know anything at all about this guy, and Chase thought he was dangerous.
Chase liked to act like he owned me. He thought I was a little girl who didn’t know shit. I loved him, but I didn’t like being treated that way. And besides, chatting with someone online couldn’t hurt anything. In a flash of mixed emotions, I typed back, Why do you want to know?
I think you’re pretty.
My heart started thumping. Who the hell was this guy? I clicked on his profile, but there wasn’t a whole lot there. It looked like he was new on Facebook, just a few pictures, a few posts, very few friends, and they were all people I knew. It couldn’t hurt to be nice. I could feel heat on my face and neck.
I typed one word in response: *blushes*
And that was how it started. Rick and I chatted for an hour, then again the next night. I was so flattered by his interest. And I never realized that while he was drawing out information about me, about Sam, about my life, he never told me a single thing about himself.
I was so stupid. Rick played me like a musical instrument, tuning me up, then forcing me to sing whatever notes he wanted. It’s not that I wanted to dump Chase. I loved him. And if I’d listened to him, my life wouldn’t have ended up where it was.
At the same time, Chase wasn’t there. He wasn’t on Facebook. He rigidly controlled when we could see each other. He worked all the time, so we hardly ever saw each other. I wasn’t cheating on him. I never even considered it. But I won’t lie. Rick’s attention excited me. It made me feel wanted, desirable, when sometimes I felt like I had to beg Chase to kiss me. Chase, who loved me. Chase, who was all hung up over my age.
It was Thursday night when Rick messaged me again.
Going to Scott’s tomorrow after school?
Yes, I answered, my pulse pounding in my temples.
See you then.
So Friday after school, I caught a ride from Scott and went back to his place. His parents lived in a big house just down Leesburg Pike from ours. It was large but not one of the new McMansions that seemed to be covering all the nearby Northern Virginia neighborhoods.
It was strange. I felt far more comfortable at Scott’s. Ever since my parents bought the monstrosity, it seemed like our lives were more distant. Dad traveled so much I hardly ever saw him. Mom was more and more preoccupied with the PTA and volunteer stuff, but it seemed hollow. Like she was doing it for her benefit, not mine. Scott’s house seemed more homelike. Oddly safe.
Not that Scott’s parents were at all involved in his life. He was a nice guy, a little goofy. Always had a funny smile and a kind word to say. I think he’d been bullied in middle school—he was a little overweight—but his general kindness to everyone had become a bubble protecting him. It helped that he surrounded himself with people like me. People who would go to the mat to protect a friend.
When we got down to the basement, he said, “Want to smoke one?”
I nodded, and we sat down on the couch. He slid the cigar box out from under the couch, where he kept his stash hidden in a half-assed way. His parents never came down here anyway.
Two minutes later, he passed me the smoking joint and I took a long drag, my throat burning. Then I coughed loud and giggled. He grinned and said, “Lightweight.”
I giggled again.
“So you doing anything for your birthday?”
I leaned back, already feeling light-headed. “My parents are having a party for me. Dorky.”
“Nah,” he said. “That’s cute. And hey, maybe you’ll get a car.”
“I doubt it. But maybe. They did promise to take me to get my license though. Only two weeks.”
“Fucking awesome.”
A second later the back door opened. And in walked Rick, his arm gripped around Nialla’s. Her eyes darted all over the room as they walked in.
My pulse immediately began racing. What was up with Nialla? Why was she so scared all the time? Where the hell had they come from anyway? Rick had just … shown up, two or three weeks ago. It was a little weird. He had to be in his mid-twenties, but Nialla was a lot younger. Eighteen, maybe.
“Scott, my man,” Rick said. He reached out and clasped hands with Scott, his eyes sliding over me. “What’s going on?”
Scott shrugged and passed the joint to Rick.
Rick took a long toke from it. “Good stuff.” His eyes dropped to me, and he gave me a lopsided grin. Then he passed me the joint. Our fingers touched for just a second, and I shivered. I took a long drag, desperately trying not to cough. Nialla’s eyes continued searching around the room. Looking at everything. Except me. She never once looked at me.
Scott’s phone rang. He looked at it, rolled his eyes, and said, “Hello?” He got an impatient look on his face. “Mom, I’ve got friends over.”
He listened a second longer. I could hear her voice even though the phone was against his ear. Whatever she was saying, it was in a pretty shrill tone of voice.
“All right, I’ll be right up.” He hung up, then said, “Well, that blows. I gotta go. My uncle’s having some kind of dinner tonight, and they said I have to go.”
He reached into the open cigar box, took out a bottle of eyedrops, and leaned his head back, dropping one in each eye. “Feel free to hang out. I’ll be back late.”
Then he stood up. And my throat closed. Fear? Apprehension? Anxiety? I don’t know what it was, but I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I took another long drag off the joint then passed it to Nialla. Her hands trembled as she took it. My head was swimming.
I stood up. “I gotta go, too.”
Rick stood up. “Hey … you don’t have to go anywhere.”
I was woozy from the weed. The sharp edge of fear that ran through me seemed to make me more alert.
“Hey, Scott. Wait up … do you think I can get a ride home?”
I caught up with Scott at the top of the stairs and followed him into the kitchen. I had never been up here before. Scott’s friends all came and went through the basement door.
“Dude! You know it’s not okay to come upstairs. If my mom sees you stoned—”
“Just let me out the front door, okay?”
Scott smirked. “Is Rick scaring you?”
“Who is he? I don’t remember ever seeing them before a few weeks ago.”
Scott shrugged. “Friend of Gearbox, maybe?”
I whispered urgently. “You mean you don’t even know?”
A moronic chuckle erupted from Scott. “I know he’s got the hots for you. His eyes were all over you. He didn’t care that his girl was looking.”
Even though Rick scared me, maybe because he scared me, I felt a flood of pleasure at those words. I swallowed. “Look, can I just get a ride?”
“Scott! I told you to come!” The call came from somewhere down the hall.
Scott shr
ugged and spread his hands wide. “Sorry,” he mouthed. Then he pointed toward the front door.
I really didn’t want to get Scott in trouble, and his parents were so cool about people hanging out. So I carefully tiptoed to the front door. People were talking down the hall … not just his mother, but three or four people. Whatever. Very carefully, I opened the front door and slipped out.
Scott’s parents owned a house in an old wooded neighborhood. Their driveway stretched around the back, where Scott’s friends usually parked. But his parents’ cars were in the front. When I heard a car start in the back, I ducked down behind one of the cars in the front drive. Less than a minute later, Rick’s gleaming Hummer drove by and turned right out onto the street. I stayed low as I watched him drive away then began walking toward home.
Some things about Rick just didn’t make sense. Why was Nialla so scared? And where did a twentysomething who had no apparent job get the money to drive a car like that? I didn’t know much about cars, but I knew enough to know that a brand-new Hummer with custom detailing must cost at least thirty or forty thousand dollars. Maybe he had a good job and it was just easy hours? Because he showed up around here at all hours of the day and night.
Or maybe he sold drugs?
For that matter, why did he only have a few friends on Facebook, all people who were in Scott’s circle?
It was going to be a long walk home, probably more than an hour. Before Dad bought that ridiculous house, we had been neighbors with Scott and his family. I missed the neighborhood. I missed our old house, it was only one block over. I’d loved that house.
I was going to have to live with the walk. If I called my parents they’d see I was stoned, and if I called Chase he would be pissed that I went to Scott’s without him. The walk would give me time to clear my head anyway. God, I couldn’t wait until I got my driver’s license.
Two weeks seemed like forever.
The walk also seemed like it was taking forever. But fifteen minutes into it, my phone rang. It was Chase.
“Hey! I didn’t think I was going to hear from you until later! Did you get off work early?” My words came out in a jumbled mess, because I was so happy to hear from him. But that happiness was fleeting.
Winter Flower Page 17
