by Lucy Smoke
Grayson tensed before taking a breath. As he exhaled, his shoulders dropped as though he were forcing himself to relax. His lightning blue eyes traced to my gaze once more and his smirk returned. "I'll probably do some traveling in the next few weeks," he replied.
I glanced at Knix out of the corner of my eye, but his expression didn't change, and he remained silent. "That's cool," I replied. "Where are you going?"
Grayson's lips thinned. "A friend of my parents," he said before he sat forward and placed both of his forearms on the table. "Let's talk about Iris, though. I know they've told you about it, Harlow."
Knix remained quiet. "Yea..." I hedged, pulling my water to me to take a sip.
"I think it's too dangerous for you." Grayson's hardened gaze moved to Knix and stayed. "I think you should leave Iris."
"It's...I..." I couldn't help myself. I glanced up at Knix. He looked at me before returning his unimpressed gaze to Grayson. I had the feeling he wanted to know my reaction as well. I sighed, facing forward in the booth. "I have to give it a chance," I said.
"Why?" Grayson snapped. "Why do you have to give it a chance? Because they want you to? Is it money? Do you need money? Hell, Harlow. If you need money or a place to stay, you can come stay with me."
"That's sweet," I replied, "but I can't do that.” I shook my head. “I promised them I would give Iris a chance, and I keep my promises. And anyway, it’s not as bad as you think. I kind of like it actually.” I paused for a moment, curious. “Why are you so worried anyway?" I asked.
Grayson's expression evolved from concerned to dark. "Because I know how they operate," he said through clenched teeth. I didn't know how to reply to that. Knix sighed and leaned forward.
"Her decisions are her decisions, Grayson." He spoke slowly. "It's not your place–"
"But it's yours?" Grayson interrupted.
"Please stop," I practically begged.
I could already feel other people's eyes on us, probably wondering if we were in an awkward love triangle fight or something. The waitress returned at that moment laden down with a tray bearing our food. She smiled brightly, oblivious to the tension, as she passed around our food. I thanked her quietly and Knix nodded his thanks as well. Grayson remained silent.
"Alright, well, let me know if you need anything else," she said, glancing over our drinks, I assumed, to make sure we were still good there. I bobbed my head as she left and then sighed.
Grayson stared down at his food for a beat before he pushed it away. His gaze caught mine once more. "Just be careful, Harlow," he said. "They have a way of making Iris seem important, like you're saving the world, but it can consume you. I just want to make sure you're not going to get swallowed up in it." He stood up and threw a twenty down before he cast a cryptic look at Knix. "Text me if you need me," he said. "Anytime, Harlow. Remember that."
With that, Grayson left, and I sat there for a moment staring at his uneaten burger. I pushed mine away as well. "I'm not hungry anymore," I said quietly.
Knix nodded and flagged down the waitress. I couldn't even look at her as he requested boxes and the check. There was a lead weight in my stomach as we left the building. Knix paused at the door before he pressed the keys to the SUV in my palm. "Go ahead and start the car," he said. "I have to talk to Alex real quick."
I nodded, taking the keys and clutching the boxed food. When I unlocked the SUV and crawled in, I set the box down on the floorboard and curled up into a ball in the passenger seat. Resting my head on my drawn-up knees, I released a heavy breath that I hadn't realized I had been holding. All at once, it felt like my chest was able to expand for the first time since Grayson had texted me. At least there hadn't been a physical fight, I justified to myself. It still left me empty, though, as I thought about Grayson's words.
Could I really trust Grayson? The guys all seemed to think that he was bad, and I knew there was a reason for that. They weren't the kind of people that would hate someone just because. They had their own excuses for why they did the things they did and said the things they said. Of course, a lot of those excuses were dependent on Iris, which I still didn't know much about, as Grayson had so blatantly pointed out.
I groaned, lifting my head and letting it thunk back down on my knees once more. What was the point of being in Iris if I didn't know anything about it? Maybe Grayson was right, but Bellamy had made a good point the other day. My first encounter with him definitely hadn't painted him as a knight in shining armor. Not that I wanted him to be. God, why were things so complicated? A knock on the driver's side window startled me and I realized Knix stood outside waiting for me to unlock the door and let him in. I reached over and hit the switch.
"Why didn't you turn on the car?" he asked. "It's a hundred degrees outside."
I didn't answer as he took the keys from me and turned over the ignition. Ice cold air rushed out of the AC.
"Harlow, are you okay?" Knix asked. I shrugged, staring out the window. "Don't let what Grayson said upset you, Little Bit." He reached over and pressed a palm down over my knee as I released my legs and buckled up.
I smiled at him. "I'm fine," I said.
"Good, let's get you back so you can head out with Marv." He started to back up.
"Did Alex say it was okay then?" I asked.
Knix waited a few beats to reply as he turned back onto the highway. "There's nothing wrong with Marv visiting a few family friends and asking some questions," Knix said, "but we'll have to wait for anything further."
I nodded and returned to watching the scenery pass. If anything, I hoped Marv could help the girls he was so worried about. At least going with him would take my mind off of Grayson.
Chapter 6
When we returned and pulled up to the house Marv was already waiting outside. He looked like he'd been waiting for a few minutes. I looked to Knix in confusion when he put his hand over mine as I went to unbuckle myself.
"I texted him," Knix said. "He's taking the SUV, go ahead and just stay here. I just need to talk to him for a moment."
"About what Alex said?" I asked.
Surely, he wasn't going to tell Marv about Grayson. Knix nodded and reached down for the box of diner leftovers before shooting me a smile and getting out. I released my seatbelt, leaving it buckled.
Marv and Knix only spoke for a few moments before they parted ways and Knix waved at me as he entered the house. Marv popped open the SUV's driver side door and smiled. "Hey, Princess." He grinned.
"Hey."
He climbed into the SUV and buckled his seatbelt. "You ready to go?" he asked. I gestured down to my buckled seatbelt and he smirked. "Alright then, let's go." I squeaked as he gunned the engine and my side slammed into the passenger side door.
"What the fuck?" He laughed as the curse slipped out. "Jesus, Marv. Are you trying to kill me?"
"Never, Sunshine." He chuckled. "Never." After that he settled down and drove at a more reasonable pace, but I continued to watch him out of the corner of my eye.
The further we drove, the more somber he became, until all of the teasing had escaped his expression. By the time Marv pulled between a set of arching, iron gates, his lips were set in a frown and his eyebrows squished slightly together, forming a few lines between them. When the car rolled to a stop and he turned off the engine, I finally glanced away. My mouth dropped. We were at a veritable mansion. It was even bigger than Marv's parents' house. Four stories high with symmetrical windows all along the front; it was something out of a country manor catalog.
Marv got out and walked around the front of the SUV as I moved to unbuckle my seatbelt. Marv opened my door and his serious expression cleared slightly at my slack-jawed look. He smirked before glancing back at the house over his shoulder. "Yea, it's big, isn't it?" he said.
"Big?" I repeated as I slid out of the car to the ground. "Your mom's house is big. This house is giant by comparison."
Marv released a low chuckle as he placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me
towards the front door. I looked down at my jean shorts and tank top. The tank top was nice enough if I had been wearing a skirt with it. What were these people going to think of me? Before I could dwell on it too much, Marv rang the doorbell and a stuffy looking elderly woman answered. Marv spoke in low tones to the woman, whose eyes never glanced my way. She nodded and opened the door to let us into the foyer...which was bigger than the living room at our house. The woman hurried away after she let us in and I looked at Marv, confused.
"Just wait a moment," he whispered to me. I didn't say anything in response, but nodded. I knew I probably wouldn't talk very much during our visit. I was only here to offer Marv comfort if he needed it. I hoped he wouldn't need it, but I was more than willing to be there if he needed me like he had been there when I needed him.
My eyes trailed to the luxurious, wooden carvings along the interior of the doorways. There was also something else. The whole place smelled like potpourri – the thickness of it was intense – like someone had very recently removed a hundred-dozen dried flowers and plants from the entire house, but the building wasn't ready to let go of the scent. I looked to the intricately woven carpet under our feet and could even smell the scent coming up from there as well. It was all around us, and yet I couldn't figure out its source. I was so focused on trying to figure out where the smell was actually coming from that I didn't notice the pristine and well-dressed man enter the room and didn’t see him until he was right in front of us.
"Marvin Carter," the man said as he approached with an elegant hand raised to take Marv's.
"Sir," Marv nodded.
"It's good to see you, son," the man said.
"And you, Mr. Spencer."
"And who is this lovely young woman?" Mr. Spencer turned my way, catching me off guard.
I sucked in an embarrassingly loud breath and Marv put his hand on my back once more to calm me. "This is my friend, Harlow."
"Harlow," Mr. Spencer smiled and reached for my hand, "it's lovely to meet you."
"You too..." I replied.
Mr. Spencer released my hand and turned back to Marv. "Shall we head to the sitting room?"
We were led past the foyer and into yet another lasciviously set room. The fireplace and mantel on the furthest wall looked to be made out of pure marble. I shook as Marv gestured me over to a red cushioned settee that faced a pair of same colored wingback chairs. On the mantle there were glass figurines. Small winged angels and tiny white elephants. Vases on the side tables. I carefully took my seat, afraid that any sudden movements would cause one of the fragile knick knacks to fall and shatter. Once we were seated, though, the air seemed to change. Mr. Spencer's smile fell to a serious straight line as he sat across from us.
"I take it after the conversation we had over the phone, you're here about Sarah." Mr. Spencer sat back against the red cushions.
Marv nodded. "I am, Mr. Spencer. I completely understand if you are uncomfortable answering any of my questions–"
"No, no, that's quite alright," Mr. Spencer interrupted. "I can't fathom how my..." He paused to look towards the open doorway. "How Sarah has changed so much over the last few months. I want to help her, I truly do. If answering a few questions might shed even a little light on what's going on, I'll answer them."
"We appreciate it," Marv replied. "Would you mind if Harlow took notes for me?"
My head jerked up and I glanced over at him as he retrieved a small notepad from one of his inside jacket pockets and a short pen. I hadn't even realized he was carrying it.
Mr. Spencer shook his head. "I don't mind at all."
I blinked as Marv handed me the notepad and pen and returned his gaze to Mr. Spencer. Looking between the two of them, I noticed a lot of similarities. Both had distinctly dark brown hair, cut short to their scalps, but not buzzed. The sides of Mr. Spencer's were tinged in gray, and there were lines around his lips and between his eyebrows that I was sure Marv would soon have as he grew older. They were both dressed similarly and, to top it off, both were seated in much the same position.
"When did you first notice a difference in Sarah?" Marv began.
Mr. Spencer frowned and then with a sigh, he leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. "It wasn't long ago for me, actually," he said with no hidden amount of shame. "Sarah and I don't spend time together. We never really have since I'm not her biological father; I'm just the stepfather, the stand in, I guess. Her mother on the other hand, Marion knew almost immediately that something was wrong. They've always been close. Since Sarah changed though, she hasn't talked to Marion very much."
"Do you know if Sarah does talk to anyone?" Marv prompted as I scribbled down their names and their relationships.
"She goes out a lot," Mr. Spencer replied. "We've tried stopping her, but she went from sneaking out to blatantly ignoring us. We've threatened to take her phone away, her credit cards, her car. She doesn't care anymore. If we take away her phone, she'll still leave – she has these friends, friends Marion and I don't like very much. They aren't the sort of people a young lady her age should be hanging around with."
"How old is Sarah?" I found myself asking. I hadn't realized that I said it out loud until Mr. Spencer turned his face to look at me.
"She's sixteen," he answered. "Sixteen years old and drinking like a war veteran. She drinks all the time. She's come home completely drunk multiple times and our maids find bottles in her room. She doesn't even try to hide it."
"Did she hide it to begin with?" Marv asked, sitting forward on the edge of the settee.
Mr. Spencer nodded. "I guess when she first started acting out, she did try to hide it a bit. Once we confronted her about it, she stopped trying altogether."
"You confronted her," Marv repeated. "How did she react to that?" I scribbled furiously, trying to write everything down that was said.
"She was nervous, I suppose," Mr. Spencer admitted. "Marion is actually the one who confronted her first. I walked in on the two of them having a discussion about Sarah's new habits."
"She acted nervous?" Marv asked, glancing down at my writing before returning his attention to the man sitting across from us.
"Yes, Marion said she was quiet when she first talked to her, but she changed when I came in. She shut down completely. Marion could have sworn that Sarah was trying to tell her something. I'm sure it was an excuse of some kind, but it still rankles that she would act so...so..."
"So what, Mr. Spencer?" Marv's tone was gentle as he prodded the man.
"So scared," he finally said. "She's terrified of me."
My hand paused over the notepad as I looked up. Marv kept his gaze trained on Mr. Spencer. He didn't seem like the kind of man that would evoke fear in someone. Sure, he was taller than me, but of average height for a man. I knew that looks could be deceiving, though, so I didn't comment. I stayed quiet as I waited for the conversation to continue. Something inside of me told me that he was genuine; he truly cared for this Sarah girl and he didn't want to see her hurt.
"I could see it in her eyes," he went on, "when I walked in, she completely closed herself off. She backed away even. I haven't been alone in the same room as her for months. She drinks. She goes out where I'm sure she drinks some more. She comes home. Some nights she doesn't even do that." He shook his head, a lock of dark hair falling over his forehead. "I don't know how much longer we can keep this up."
"Mr. Spencer," Marv said. "Did Sarah ever attend Ms. Enders’ Etiquette courses for Fine Young Ladies?"
Mr. Spencer looked up, confusion clear on his face. "Yea, she did. Marion sent her towards the end of her last summer break." Mr. Spencer paused for a moment, thinking. "You know, come to think of it, it wasn't long after she came back that she started acting strange."
"That's an entire year," I said, setting down my pen. Marv and Mr. Spencer both looked at me. "If it was towards the end of last summer, then it's been an entire year since she came back from that camp," I continued. "When did you say she started acti
ng out?"
"A few months following?" When Mr. Spencer answered, it sounded like a question.
I pressed on. "And you said you didn't notice right away? That things escalated, first her trying to hide the alcohol and now she doesn't?" He nodded. "Okay," I said. "I just wanted to clarify for my notes."
I closed the notepad and clicked the pen closed, glancing over to Marv. I felt for Mr. Spencer, seeing how worried he was. Acting out, I thought. That's what normal teenagers do, right? I wouldn't exactly know, though. I hadn't been an average teenager. I'm sure other teenagers didn't work the long hours I had. Sure, there had been that one time I went out with Erika and we had gotten drunk on the beach. Most of the time, however, I had been too tired or too busy to act out. I almost envied Sarah, whoever she was. She lived in a nice house, with parents who were concerned about her welfare. As Mr. Spencer had said before, she had a phone, a car, money...all the things I never had before. Maybe that made her spoiled? Would Marv hate me if I said so? He was from the same world after all. Was it just jealousy speaking? I couldn't be sure exactly.
Marv stood and shook hands with Mr. Spencer, who in turn shook my hand as well when I offered it. "It truly was good to see you again, Marvin," Mr. Spencer said as we made our way to the front door.
"Yes, sir. Hopefully, when we speak again, it will be on better circumstances." Marv smiled tightly as Mr. Spencer inclined his head.
"Hopefully," the other man replied as he opened the front door. "Call if you need anything. I truly would have thought Sarah's activities were just her acting out if it hadn't been for that other girl, the one who..." He trailed off, his voice wavering and his eyes deeply sad.
"Yes, well, thank you for talking with us despite that," Marv replied
"If you're looking for more information," Mr. Spencer said as we stepped outside, causing the both of us to turn around, "try the Rutherford’s. I've heard Robert's had some of the same issues with his niece, Carly."
