by L. E. Bross
I didn’t realize that there was no leniency to account for emergencies.
But I should know these things, shouldn’t I?
Seth’s shoulders were tense, and I could practically feel the anger radiating from him. I heard his frustrated exhale and he dragged his fingers through his hair again. I glanced at my phone and saw that it was four thirty-five.
If Ryan didn’t get there soon, Seth would never make it.
“Where is this Arnold person’s office?” I asked, coming to stand next to him.
Seth swung around, still glaring, but it didn’t really feel directed at me. “Off Main, near Second and Luce.”
Questionable part of the city, but not downright unsafe. At that moment Rick exited the building and stopped when he saw us clustered together. “Everything okay?” he asked.
“Everything’s fine. I was just offering Seth a ride.” I slipped on my sunglasses and started toward the parking lot. I realized Seth wasn’t behind me. I turned back toward him. “Are you coming or what?”
“I don’t need your fucking charity.” He stood where I left him, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were narrowed on me again.
I blew out an agitated breath. I was trying to do something nice to make up for the other night. I could be halfway to a hot shower by now, but instead I was outside in the god-awful heat arguing with an infuriating guy. I stomped back to him until we were almost toe to toe, then poked his chest with my finger. “No, you just need my fucking car.”
Rick’s bark of laughter filled the air.
Seth squeezed his eyes shut. “Shit.”
“If this is some kind of macho pride thing, let it go. You need a ride, I have a car.” I jangled my keys near his face and raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m not going to kidnap you and chop you into little pieces. No matter how much I’d like to,” I added under my breath.
“My mother always warned me about strangers offering me a ride.” His attempt at humor finally made me smile.
“Stranger danger,” I said flippantly. “Don’t worry, I don’t have any candy. It goes straight to my ass.”
His eyes widened in surprise. He stared at me for a few seconds, then shook his head. A half smile quirked up the corner of his lips. “Fuck me. Okay. Though you might be the strangest person I’ve ever gotten into a car with.”
I nodded and turned before he could see me smile. No one had ever called me strange before. Logical. Boring. Straitlaced. Complacent. Reliable. Organized. Steady. Ambitious.
But strange?
And why did it give me the insane urge to giggle?
Obviously I had gotten way too much sun this week.
We were walking toward my car when a pickup came squealing into the parking lot. There were ladders rattling from a cage in the bed of it. It came to an abrupt stop right next to us. Ryan leaned out of the driver’s side window.
“Sorry, man. Jesus, all hell broke loose right before I got your message. You ready?” Ryan had one arm draped casually over the steering wheel. When he caught my eye, he grinned. “Well, hello there, Fancy.”
I rolled my eyes at Ryan.
Seth walked over and hit him upside the head. “We need to go, asshole. Now.” He yanked open the passenger door and swung himself inside the truck.
Ryan looked from me to where Seth drummed his fingers on the door. “Okay, then. Well thank you, Fancy, for offering my boy here a ride even though he doesn’t have manners enough to say it himself.”
Seth glanced over and caught my stare. “Sorry. Thanks.”
“Wow, a little more conviction next time and I might even believe you,” I said. I don’t know why it bothered me so much when he acted like this. I liked it a lot when he actually let all the bullshit fall away and was just . . . himself. When he acted like this, he brought out my inner bitch, something a lot of people never saw.
Something I didn’t like because it meant I wasn’t in control.
That made me mad because part of being a good lawyer was the ability to suppress your emotions. And around Seth, I couldn’t when he acted like an ass.
“Have a good weekend.” I turned and waved over my shoulder, fighting the urge to give Seth a one-fingered salute just because. This was so not me, but something about that infuriating guy made me want to strangle him.
“Thank you so much, Princess,” I heard Seth shout. “Is that enough fucking conviction for you?”
Ryan’s laughter rang out and the truck’s tires squealed as it fishtailed out of the parking lot.
This time I gave them both the finger.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Seth
“Christ, she’s a lot hotter than I remembered.” Ryan grinned over at me but I tried to ignore him. “You gonna try and tap that, man?”
I snorted. “You see that fucking Beemer in the lot? That’s hers. Been down that road, not going back.”
“You are seriously not still hung up over that Melissa shit, are you? God, that was like five years ago.”
I gritted my teeth and looked out the window. That Melissa shit almost broke me beyond repair. The one and only time I actually thought someone else gave a shit about me. Except it had all been a fucking joke. On me.
I should have known someone like Melissa Westhaven would have no interest in a seventeen-year-old boy with nothing to offer. Yet somehow I convinced myself we were different. That even though she lived behind huge iron gates and went to Hillcrest Academy, we would make it work.
God, I was a fucking idiot. Months of being together but never going anywhere we could be seen should have been my first warning, but she was so beautiful and she smelled like flowers, and when we had sex, I knew she was the one.
I never met any of her friends or her family, and she never wanted to meet mine. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she was mine. I asked her to be my girlfriend one night after we had sex in my truck. She was the first girl I ever loved. The only one I ever said it to.
I gave her a necklace with a silver heart pendant on it. It took me a month to save up enough to buy it at the Walmart jewelry counter. I was so fucking proud of that thing. I thought she’d love it. I told her I loved her and that I wanted to make her happy for the rest of her life.
Pain twisted my guts into knots when I remembered the way she laughed. The disbelief and amusement in her eyes had cut straight through my heart. She put her clothes back on and climbed out of my truck. She stood there in the middle of the vacant parking lot next to her car. The necklace lay tangled in a heap on the floorboard of the truck.
“Seth, you’re hot as hell, but there is no way I’d ever actually be with you. I thought you knew that. We were just having fun. But you and me? A couple?” She laughed and shook her head. Her long black hair swayed around her shoulders. “This isn’t some Disney movie, this is real life. I have a boyfriend and we make sense together. We’re the golden couple. But I wanted you. You were an itch I had to scratch, and now I have.”
I remembered trying to breathe when she told me that. Even now, five years later, my pulse thumped in my ears. She drove away and I never saw her again. She never even said goodbye. The hurt turned to anger, and I started drinking. A lot. Three months later my mother OD’d and my life went completely to shit.
“So what if Avery has money?” Ryan said, pulling me from the memories I’d rather forget. “That doesn’t matter when you’re just looking for a quick fuck, right? The way she was looking at you, yeah, I think she’s a pretty sure bet.”
Oh, I knew what Ryan was talking about. Hell, all week I’d catch Avery peeking up from under those eyelashes when she thought I wasn’t looking. She might think she hated me, but I knew that look. That repressed little-rich-girl-wanting-to-be-bad look.
I fell for that once. Never going to happen again.
She could go slumming somewhere else.
Except I’d been watching her all week and I saw it when she finally let her guard down. When she relaxed and laughed and joked with Sasha. The upt
ight bitch was gone.
This girl-next-door Avery made it hard to look away.
Which was exactly why I should.
“Okay, what you need is a drink. Let’s hit Jimmy’s. Like old times?” Ryan practically bounced in his seat. “Look, you need some T&A therapy. You’ve been on the inside too long with all those hairy asses. Time to get your groove back on. Hot chicks and alcohol. All you need to forget your troubles, my friend.”
After a week of picking up other people’s shit, I was fucking exhausted. But the idea of going back to my apartment to spend the night alone, yeah, that pretty much made up my mind.
“I have check-in and then a six o’clock appointment with the only lawyer who bothered to call me back. If you can wait until after that, I’m game. Not like I’ve got a packed social calendar or anything.”
“That’s the fuckin’ spirit!” Ryan slammed his palm into the steering wheel and hit the gas harder.
I was in and out of Arnold’s office in no time. He basically took my CS form, logged it into his computer, asked how I was doing, then I left. Fifteen minutes. Hell, it didn’t seem right that fifteen minutes dictated my life right now.
The lawyer’s office was about six blocks from Arnold’s office and was still in a questionable part of town, but I couldn’t be choosy. Arnold told me it was a long shot to find a lawyer to even look at my case. I just wanted someone to tell me that there was a chance I could help Sara.
Ryan and I walked into the lawyer’s front office together. Two bright green chairs with cracked vinyl sat against a gray wall. The place smelled like Arnold’s office, stale and like old food. Ryan sat and grabbed a magazine while I paced.
After only a few minutes, the door opposite us opened and a round man with tiny glasses waddled out. His stomach stuck out between red suspenders and his white shirt had something that looked like mustard on it.
“Mr. Hunter? I’m Matt Brand, attorney.”
I shook his hand and fought the urge to roll my eyes. I already knew he was an attorney, for Christ’s sake. Why else would I be there?
“Come into my office and we’ll talk.” He stood back and gestured for me to enter.
The place made Arnold look like a professional organizer. Holy God, was it a mess. Piles of folders and papers and books littered every surface, including the floor. Brand moved behind his desk and sat in a creaky chair. I perched on the edge of another chair, trying not to dislodge the mountain of papers at my back.
Attorney Brand sat back and steepled his fingers under his chin. “I have to tell you right off the bat, getting custody of your sister is a long shot. I’ve read your file. Given that you were incarcerated for attacking your stepfather and that your sister corroborated his story, not to mention he had you removed for violent behavior before this took place, I’d put your odds very low.”
I drove my fingers through my hair and sighed. I knew that already. “So you brought me here to tell me you won’t help me?” What a fucking waste of time. I started to stand when Brand waved his hand at me.
“Sit, sit. I said it was a long shot, not impossible. What I’ll have to do is start with witnesses. People who have seen firsthand that your stepfather is in fact a dealer. That will be the hardest part. Once we establish an unsafe environment for your sister, we can petition the court to grant you temporary custody as her only remaining family member. Once that is in place, you will have the right to check her into a treatment facility, whether or not she’s willing.”
For the first time in over a year, a little bit of tension left my shoulders.
“How do we get started?”
Brand smiled. “Excellent. First I’ll need a thousand-dollar retainer, bank check or money order, and after that, I bill hourly at a hundred an hour. I can work up an estimate on that time, but it’s hit-or-miss depending on how long it takes to find people who want to talk.”
My stomach sank and a sick feeling washed over me. A thousand dollars to even get started? I had about a buck seventy to my name. Where the fuck was I supposed to get that kind of cash?
A job, obviously, but what the hell could I do that paid enough to hire a lawyer?
“Thank you for your time. I’ll be in touch when I have that retainer together.” I had to get out of Brand’s office before I exploded. The small bit of hope that he had given me evaporated into a smoldering ball of rage.
Davis still had me by the balls and this time because I didn’t have a fucking cent to my name. Because of him. Despair threaded through my veins, darkening everything.
The feeling was all too familiar.
It was what had landed me in prison in the first place.
I blazed through the waiting room, barely giving Ryan a chance to stand up. “Let’s go get cleaned up. I need that drink about now.”
Ryan didn’t ask how it went. I knew if I told him I needed a grand he’d try and help, and he’d done enough for me already. I had a hell of a lot to prove to myself, and looking for a handout wasn’t where I wanted to start.
I had to do this on my own.
But the last year, I don’t know what I’d have done without Ryan. He’d been the only one to stick around after the sentencing. The only one who kept in touch while I was away. All my other so-called friends up and disappeared.
At least I knew who had my back.
“You look like someone kicked your dog,” he said.
“I feel like I’m the fucking dog.” We climbed into his truck and started back to my place.
Despite how shitty I felt, I wasn’t about to start a Seth pity party of two, so I changed the subject. “I need to find a job. Something that pays cash. Got any ideas?”
“Gonna be hard with the community service taking up your days. I’ll ask around and let you know.” He scrunched his eyebrows down, thinking, then looked at me. “You’re talking something legit, right? You could always come work with me and Dad.”
As much as I’d like to work with my best friend, I didn’t know shit about construction. With Ryan doing most of the work, I’d only get in the way and then he’d have two people to clean up after.
“I appreciate the offer, man, but I can’t. I’m useless putting shit together, you know that. Pretty much fucking destroy everything I touch.”
We didn’t say anything else, and I was okay with that. Ryan knew me well enough to know when I didn’t want to talk. And where to go when I wanted uncomplicated drinking. After a quick shower at my place, we were off again.
There were already a few beat-up cars in front of Jimmy’s place, the Time Out Bar & Grill. It was a dive and the food sucked, but it had decent beer and pool tables and a jukebox. And a couple of pretty cute waitresses.
We had just walked up to the bar when I heard someone shout my name. Jimmy stood there, wiping out a glass, but he set it down as I made my way over to him.
“Seth, my man, didn’t know you were finally out.” His beefy hand clasped mine. There was a smile somewhere in that scruffy-assed beard of his. “What can I get ya? On the house.”
“Whatever’s decent on tap, Jim. Thanks.” I slid onto a barstool and Ryan sat down next to me. “How’s business?” I asked because it was the kind of obligatory question someone who’s been away should ask.
“Same ole,” he said, setting the foaming mug in front of me and another in front of Ryan. Jimmy leaned down, his elbows resting on the pitted bartop. “You got a bum rap, kid, we all think so. Someone shoulda put Davis down a long time ago.”
I swallowed against the burn of anger. I had come out tonight to forget, and my good-for-nothing stepfather was the last thing I wanted to talk about. “Yeah, but that son of a bitch would just take Sara down with him, so there isn’t any use wishing it now.”
“Well, you ever need anything, Seth, you know all you have to do is ask.” Jimmy nodded and moved down to where a couple of drunk guys were laughing their asses off.
Ryan took a long swallow and set his glass down. “What’s going on, Seth? I’m talking
really? In that thick head of yours.”
There was no use bullshitting Ryan. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do. Arnold is talking college when I get done with trash duty.” I snorted. “Can you see me walking around some fucking college campus? Shit.” I downed half my beer in two mouthfuls.
Ryan studied me, his expression thoughtful. “Honestly, man? Yeah, I can. If any of us can pick themselves up out of this gutter we live in, it’s you.”
He had to be kidding me. “Hell, Ryan, you’re better than me already. You haven’t been to prison, you have a job. A future.”
“Yeah, a future fixing everything my old man screws up. And the only reason I didn’t end up in prison is because you took all the fucking blame yourself, asshole.” Ryan glared at me, he fisted his hands in his lap. “You copped a plea before I even had a chance to tell them I was part of it.”
I tipped back the mug and drained the glass. “I did what I had to. It wasn’t your fight.”
“Bullshit,” Ryan yelled. He slammed his fist on the bar, and several people looked over at us, hoping for a bar fight more than anything. “You and Sara are more my family than my own fucking family is. You think it didn’t destroy me watching what he did to her? Knowing we couldn’t do a goddamned thing to help her?”
“So why didn’t you let me kill that bastard when I had the chance?” Images from that night filled my head. The screaming. The blood. My fist slamming into Davis’s fucking face over and over.
“Because Sara already called the cops, and assault is a hell of a lot different than murder, Seth. Davis has his claws into her, man. Do you think she would have told the cops what Davis was really doing to her? She took his fucking side without batting an eyelash. Sat right there next to him in court when you were sentenced.”
I remembered looking at them. Looking at her. Hoping she’d find the strength to stand up and point her finger at that dirtbag and tell everyone in the courtroom that he pimped her out to everyone and anyone for drugs. That he got her hooked on heroin just like he did my mother. That he deserved to have the shit beaten out of him.
