by J. M. Miller
He nodded. “I’m fine. Now, are you gonna tell me what you’re doing in my house?”
Great. There was no easy way to answer. It was probably best to just say it. “I broke in.”
He exhaled a puff of air and shook his head. “Of course you did.”
“I didn’t know it was yours.”
“Good to know.” His voice was indifferent.
He had every right to be pissed, so I didn’t argue. I shifted my arms and wiggled my fingers into the tops of my pockets, attempting to retrieve the piece of glass.
“What are you doing?” He finally looked at me.
“Something.” I grunted as the material at my wrists dug into my skin. “I’m not just going to sit here and wait for him to find the keys. There are keys, right?”
“Yeah, there’s another set. After he finds them, I’m sure he’ll leave.”
Shuffling sounds and heavy footfalls banged around upstairs.
“Are you serious?” I snapped my eyes to him. “He’s holding us hostage. I’ve read too many novels and seen too many movies to not know the end game in this scenario.”
“He won’t go that far. Whatever’s in his system needs to run its course and he’ll—”
“He admitted to planning this, and for who knows how long.”
Damian sighed. “He won’t take it that far.”
“You’re blinded by blood.” I scoffed. “You always have been.”
Some of his fingers locked around a few of mine, gripping tight enough to aggravate my glass cuts. I’d hardly noticed the pain when it first happened, but each tiny slice screamed from the pressure this time around. Blood trickled down one of my fingers.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
I stared up at him. “Nothing, I just—”
“Fuck you, Syn.” The anger in his eyes crushed me more than the words. “I’m not exactly thrilled to be in this situation, especially with you. And for the record, I was never blinded by blood. If anything, I was blinded by you.” His fingers released mine.
“Damian, I didn’t …” I ground my teeth and shook my head. “I just need to get out of here. Fucking shit.” The glass was the only way to make that happen. Stifling a sob, I stretched my fingers as far as the knots allowed and slipped my fingers into my pockets again. “I have a piece of glass. I grabbed it from the floor.”
He tipped his shoulder and twisted his head for a view of our hands. “Where?”
“I had to drop it in my pocket. I’m trying to reach it now.”
“Is that blood on your hands?”
“Yeah.” I continued moving my fingers, knowing it would be impossible to reach unless I could get back on my knees.
“You said you were okay.”
I stole a glance at him. His eyes had softened some. “I’m fine. I just need your help to reach it. After we get free, I won’t call the cops if you don’t want me to. You can handle Seth yourself.”
“I’m sure you won’t. It’s been five years. Would this be your second or third strike?”
I pressed my lips together, stung by his assumptions. I’d been on the up and up, but he didn’t know that. My voice was flat. “I’d get a lot more than a year this time.”
Silence stretched between us. I didn’t expect him to understand my life, not when I’d cut him out of it long ago. I’d had reasons to make the choice to leave him. As much as I hated myself for breaking into his house tonight, I had reasons for that too. He would probably never understand either decision. The only thing I could hold on to was that he’d made a life for himself, which was what I’d wanted for him all along.
It all meant nothing if we didn’t get away, though. Seth wasn’t playing games tonight.
No matter how much I stretched them, my fingers still couldn’t reach the glass. “I need more room to reach the bottom of my pocket. If you move your legs with mine, I might be able to turn to the side a bit to reach.” I dropped my knees and leaned to the side as far as I could.
He did what I asked, tipping his knees toward me, but he remained silent.
I tugged at our binds harder, stretching my fingers as far as they’d go as the material bit into my wrists. “I can’t reach.” I curled my fingers with a frustrated sigh. Tipping my face back toward him, I caught him looking at my butt. He lifted his eyes to meet mine. There was no shock. No shame. With that small exchange, that small connection, I wanted to say something. I had to.
“I’m sorry I declined your visits while I was at County.”
His body jolted, yanking his knees back upright and forcing mine to do the same. “Don’t.” He squared his shoulders and set his eyes straight ahead. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“I need to tell you—”
“And I needed to see you. Fuck!” He huffed out a deep breath and tipped his face down. “You wouldn’t even talk to me. When I found out that you’d gotten arrested for breaking into that storage unit with Tanner, I just wanted to know you were okay. You missed the rest of senior year. Graduation. And before I left for NYU, you still declined my visits. I just wanted to see you one more time. After everything we’d been through … you shut me out like I didn’t mean shit to you.”
“You meant everything to me.” The truth flowed out in a soft whisper.
He tilted his head back and a derisive laugh shot out of him. It bounced around the house, echoing what really lied beneath: sadness.
Seth ran out of Damian’s room, stopping at the top of the open walkway to leer at us. “Is this fucking funny? Where are the fucking keys, asshole?”
Damian leveled his head. “They’re up there somewhere. Why don’t you come untie me? Maybe I’ll find them after I kill you.”
“Sit still and shut the fuck up.” Seth spun around with a roar and rammed a fist against the wall behind him, punching through the drywall with ease.
When Seth disappeared again, I watched Damian’s face and was hit with the need to explain more. He had to know I’d done it for the best reasons.
“I know you don’t want to talk, but I have to say something. I understand why you hate me. Just know that I did it because I didn’t want to bring you down. My life was shit and I didn’t want to jeopardize yours.”
“Stop. Stop acting like some martyr. You had no idea what would’ve happened if you hadn’t shut me down.” His eyes blinked hard as he shook his head. “All that time I thought you were strong, but you weren’t. You were scared. You had a decision to make, and instead of fighting for us, you backed out and ran to your friend Tanner. That worked out real well for you seeing as how you ended up in jail. I’m guessing he had something to do with you being here tonight too.”
“Believe what you want.” I dropped my gaze to my lap as our past ripped wide open. “It was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. I never wanted to hurt you. I knew from the start I should have stayed away. You had so much to look forward to—”
“And you didn’t? You always deemed your life lesser—why? The stigma of your mom killing someone? I never cared about that. It was self-defense. She was a single mom, protecting herself and you.”
“Other people cared. Being associated was enough.”
“I didn’t give a shit what other people thought.”
“Your mom cared.”
His bare chest rose with a deep inhale. “I never gave a shit what she thought either. That’s why I almost didn’t go to NYU. I wanted to stay here for you. I would have done anything for you.”
A tear slipped from my eye. That had always been the main issue, not just my problems, my stigmas. He would have left it all behind, all his plans for the future. I blinked away another tear. The conversation hurt worse than all the physical pain I’d endured. Our bodies were touching, but the hurt between us kept us miles apart.
My arms and legs shook as sadness coursed through me, threatening to wreck me. I bit my lip hard. I’d lost enough and I refused to lose anymore. I needed to get out of the house. I needed to call …
“Tanner,” I mumbled.
Damian snapped his face toward me. “So he was part of this?”
I gazed up at him. “Yes. I called him because I needed a job.”
The side of Damian’s jaw clenched at my words. “Does he know this is my place?”
“No, at least I don’t think so. He would’ve said something—”
“Or maybe not.” His face turned toward the kitchen again.
I pulled in a deep breath, considering the possibility. Had Tanner known? If he had, why wouldn’t he say something? Even though we hadn’t talked in a year, he wouldn’t have sent me here knowing it was Damian’s house. There was no way. “This just has to be a weird coincidence.”
“Really? That’s a bit of a stretch.”
I shook my head, the throbbing amplified by my confusion. “Look, I don’t know. I haven’t seen him for a while, okay? I doubt he knew, though. He was dished two places last minute from his guy, but he’d already taken the other and couldn’t back out. So here I am.”
“Why are you here, Syn?” His eyes returned to me again. “If you haven’t seen him for a while, why are you here?”
I pinched my eyes shut tight to close off my thoughts. “That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that Tanner knows I’m here. Did you see where Seth put my hoodie? My phone?”
“No. Maybe out on the deck. After he moved me to the living room, he went out there for a minute. I was busy trying to untie my hands. He probably tossed everything into the water, my stuff too.”
“I was supposed to text Tanner if I was running late, or when the job was done. He’s going to know something went wrong.”
“Won’t he be too busy with the other job to notice?”
I scowled, knowing it was possible, hating that Damian would kill what little hope we had so easily. “He might not notice right away, but he’ll check in before the end of night. He’s a decent person, Damian. He’ll make sure I’m okay.”
Damian adjusted his shoulders, his bare arm rubbing against mine lightly. He inhaled, and I watched the muscles of his chest rise and fall dramatically, focusing on the tattoo I still couldn’t discern.
“God dammit!” Seth yelled from somewhere inside Damian’s room.
Damian sighed. “I hope you’re right about Tanner.”
Pam scheduled me to work later in the afternoon on Saturday, so I went to have lunch with Mom at The Twisted Grape, hoping to calm my nerves before my shift. Damian was due to work in the morning, but my shift would overlap his by at least an hour. I’d seen him once during the week at school, surrounded by conversation, leaning against a locker. He’d stared at me from down the hallway with no visible emotion, just watching me until I disappeared down another hall.
I was tempted to confront him, call him out in front of his friends, maybe shove his face against the cool steel of that locker. Strong reactions weren’t new to me, but a strong reaction to a situation like this was definitely new. We had kissed once. I’d done more than that with other guys and found out later that they were involved. It bothered me a little, but I’d never wanted to bash heads over a single kiss.
After tramping six blocks of slushy sidewalks, I realized there was no getting around it. The sting wasn’t going away. Before crossing the street to get to Rewind, I noticed a guy walking toward me with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his black leather jacket. His brown hair was longer up top, pushed back from his face in a messy wave. A couple of strands strayed from the rest, flicking his forehead with each step of his work boots.
Inside my jacket pockets, I squeezed one hand around my knife and the other around the can of pepper spray. Always prepared. I stepped off the curb and the guy glanced up for a moment. His pointy nose and serious eyes stopped me instantly, taking me back in time.
“Tanner?” I said, watching for a reaction.
He lifted his eyes again. This time they narrowed and widened in a fraction of a second. “Syn,” he replied, his lips pulling into a quick smile. “I was wondering when I’d see you. I heard your mom was back managing The Grape.”
“Yeah, she is.” I watched him pull a hand out of his pocket and pass it across the stubble under his chin. A dark tattoo decorated the back of his hand, disappearing up into the sleeve of his jacket.
He moved his hand to the side of his head, running his fingertips over the top of his ear. “You look good, Syn.” His eyes flickered down the street. “It was nice seeing you, but I’ve gotta get to work.”
“Oh. Yeah, me too,” I said, hitching a thumb toward Rewind. I glanced that way and saw Damian talking to Pam outside.
“Rewind, huh? That’s cool. I’m over at the auto parts place right now and working some side jobs. I had a gig at the marina, but winter cutbacks screwed me.”
“I saw Ed. He told me you might be working at the marina. He also told me you left school.”
His eyes tracked a single car driving past us. “Yeah,” he said, turning back to me without meeting my eyes. “Too much bullshit to deal with.”
“Mr. Straight As couldn’t handle the bullshit?” I quipped, trying to break through the empty years between us.
He nodded with a derisive smile and stuffed his hands back into his jacket. “No offense, Syn, but you don’t know me anymore. You have no clue what I’ve been through in the last six years, so save the offhanded lectures. I’ve heard it all before.”
I pinched my lips together, considering my words. “I should’ve called. I’m sorry about that, but that sure as hell doesn’t mean I’m going to tolerate you being a douche.”
He shook his head, shifting some of his hair. “You haven’t changed much, huh?” He cracked a small smile that matched so many I’d seen years ago. Riding bikes. Playing ball. “I’m not mad at you, Syn. I’m just mad.”
“Welcome to the club,” I joked and turned my head, noting that Damian and Pam had gone back inside.
He stared at my jacket pockets. “I think it’s safe for you to let go of the blade now.”
I pulled my hands out with a laugh and picked at my finger nails. “I guess I haven’t changed much, huh?” He knew my affinity for knives well. He’d even given me one as a gift one year. I’d kept it until the blade was gouged so badly the edge looked serrated.
He nodded, and his eyes were serious once again, no doubt thinking along the same lines. “You still taking self-defense classes?”
“No,” I admitted. “That money went to fines in North Carolina.”
“Really?” he said with a curious smile. “You moved on from concession stands and old ladies’ crystal cats?”
I laughed and shoved his arm. “I never meant to break that stupid cat. How is your mom anyway? I bet she was thrilled to see me leave.”
His smile disappeared. “She died last year.”
“Oh, shit. Tanner, I’m so sorry. I—”
“No, it’s okay. Really.” He held up a hand.
“How?” I covered my mouth and stared at his somber face, seeing all the hurt he didn’t want to show, everything that he’d locked away.
“Car accident on the Ninety-five. I, uh …” he paused, looking down to his feet. “I lived with my cousin for a while. I share an apartment off Chesapeake Drive with a friend from the shop now.”
“I should have called. I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault.” He shook his head then glanced at the cell he pulled from his pocket. “Look, I’ve gotta jet, but I’ll catch up with you again, okay?”
I took a side step out of his way. “Yeah. That would be good.”
His lips pulled into a full smile, but it didn’t last. He took a few steps before turning and walking backward a few more. “Hey, you still carry your pick set too?”
“Of course. You never know when you’ll get locked out.”
One of his hands smoothed over the back of his neck before he tucked both into his jacket pockets. “I might need your skills if you’re interested.”
“Maybe.” My mom�
�s disappointed eyes flashed in my mind. It was a look I’d seen more times than I could count, and if I went along with whatever Tanner had in mind, there was a good chance I’d see it again.
He nodded and finally turned. By the time I crossed the street, he had disappeared down the block.
I opened Rewind’s door, rushed by a feeling of comfort after only a week of working there.
“Hi, Annisyn,” Pam greeted me as I walked in and wiped my boots on the rug. She tucked the clipboard she was holding under an arm and slipped a pen through her hair, settling it behind her ear.
I was glad she was here. Working with her all week after school had been so calm.
“Hi,” I said, watching her move to the back of the room. A tapping noise from the register stole my attention.
Damian was behind the counter, leaning over with his forearms on the glass. My body hummed at the sight of him, all my nerves aching to be closer.
Calm work with Pam also meant there was no thrill.
“Hey,” Damian said, barely loud enough to hear over a top forty track streaming through the speakers upstairs. His eyes never left me as his fingers spun a CD upright on the glass. Just like it had been in school, his face was expressionless.
“Hi,” I replied in an equally impassive tone and made my way upstairs to hang my jacket.
I will not go psycho over a kiss, I thought, silently scolding myself as I tread up the stairs. I needed to play it like he was: like nothing even happened, like nothing mattered.
But damn, that kiss. And those eyes.
“Did you already eat lunch?” Pam asked, swinging her parka around her shoulders.
“Yes, I just ate with my mom,” I replied, realizing she was leaving. I’d be alone with Damian again, which I couldn’t decide would be bad or good. I clamped my teeth down on my bottom lip as conflicting thoughts continued to flash in my mind.
