Shade Me

by Jennifer Brown

  I flipped over to the photo of the hand holding pills. A drug deal. I was sure of it now. No bracelet, of course. Nothing to help me, although I’d memorized every detail of the hand, even down to the nail jewelry.

  I was staring so intently at the photos, I never even sensed anyone approaching me, until a blond blur planted herself in the booth seat across from me.

  I looked up, startled, jamming the photos back into my purse.

  “Someone’s doing something naughty,” the blonde said. “What’s got you so oblivious, Nikki Kill?”

  I’d never been this close to her, but I would have recognized Luna Fairchild anywhere. She was a sophomore, elfin and ethereal, always dressed as if she were heading for a music awards show. Often, Luna showed up to school in outfits Peyton had worn only days before, and I’d heard her on more than one occasion imitate Peyton’s laugh to a T. Until Peyton cut and dyed her hair, Luna was a convincing Peyton stand-in. It was creepy.

  “Excuse me?” I said.

  She pointed toward my purse. “You looked pretty intense there,” she said. “I thought maybe you were doing something you weren’t supposed to.” She flashed a perfect-toothed smile. “Just kidding, of course.”

  The waitress who had all but ignored me earlier was instantly at our table, practically out of breath from rushing so fast to get there.

  “Vodka cranberry,” Luna said, without even making eye contact with the waitress. She waved her hand, sending the waitress away.

  “Yes, of course, Miss Fairchild,” the waitress said as she left. If the Hollis family was full of privilege, Luna was the most privileged of all.

  “If you want a real drink, it will be fine,” she said, as if reading my mind. “They know me here. They won’t question you.”

  “I’m waiting for Dru.”

  “Yes, I know,” she said. “I saw the texts. My brother is really bad about leaving his phone lying around where anyone can see it. Cute, the two of you. I had no idea he was settling down and, like, actually dating someone. So good to see him getting serious with someone his own age for a change.”

  “We’re not dating.”

  Luna leaned forward on her elbows, resting her chin on her hands, pinning me with a look of fake innocence that made my blood boil. “Interesting. Tell me, then, Nikki Kill, how come you’re here?”

  “Dru invited me,” I said. “But you already know that if you saw the texts.”

  “You do know the definition of date, don’t you?” she asked. I didn’t respond.

  She continued to stare at me, and then took a deep breath, leaned back, and fiddled with a cloth napkin. The waitress came back with her drink.

  “You’re a doll, Liv,” Luna said, and I swore the waitress practically melted under the compliment. She floated away, and Luna picked up her drink, sipped it. “Yes, I know my brother invited you to Lujo. It’s really nice here, isn’t it? So much better than some of the other clubs, where you can’t even dance without getting elbowed by somebody’s bodyguard. And not too many photographers here. We’re old news.” She looked me over. “Or no news.”

  “It’s a bit much,” I said, not wanting to fall into whatever trap she was setting.

  Her lips turned down as she assessed the room. “Maybe, but I don’t mind a bit much. Not at all.” She laughed loudly, then sipped her drink again. “Anyway, I wasn’t asking why you were here at Lujo. As you said, I saw the texts. You are clearly here at my brother’s request. My real question is—and we are all kind of wondering this—why is he requesting, Nikki? How do you know my brother? And how do you know Peyton?”

  “All wondering?” I asked. “Who is all?”

  She shrugged. “My parents, too. They’re a little concerned for his safety right now. For obvious reasons. So what’s your deal?”

  I blinked. “I don’t understand your question.”

  She took a bigger drink and set the glass down, the fake smile dropping from her face. “It’s a pretty easy question.”

  I shrugged. “I know Peyton from school. Everyone does. I met Dru at the hospital.”

  She nodded. “Ah. But you seem so much more involved than that. You know? You can’t blame me for being curious. I mean, after all, someone did try to kill my sister.” She leaned forward, slid her elbows across the table. “Do you think she’s going to die? God, can you imagine? Peyton Hollis, dead. How my mother would mourn the loss of her best asset.”

  Again, I wasn’t sure how to respond. Luna seemed to be laying land mines all around me, waiting almost giddily for me to step on one. I couldn’t figure out where this was coming from, or where it was going. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her the truth about what I saw in Peyton’s monitors when I was in the room. This obnoxious little turd didn’t need to know the first thing about my crimson.

  “I hope not,” I said. “She doesn’t look good, though.”

  “Oh, well, she stopped looking good a while ago, with the haircut and tattoo.” Luna sipped again. Her drink was already half gone. “I’m joking, of course.”

  “Of course,” I repeated, but not even the tiniest smile ghosted across my face. Who jokes about someone who is fighting for her life?

  “Anyway. So Peyton. I really hated the way my mother doted on her. Everything was about how she was so beautiful and so talented and blah, blah, blah. There’ve been times I would’ve given anything just to be Peyton. And then she did all that weird stuff right before this happened,” Luna said. “The tattoo, the hair, the band. Got a new phone and stopped answering her old one. She was in real trouble. We’re all very sad, of course, but I can’t say we’re too surprised, given the path she was taking. I think we all knew she was just asking for something awful to happen.”

  My mouth went dry. Everything about Luna was abrasive. Why would she be telling me this? And did she really just blame Peyton for her own beating? “She was asking to be beaten?”

  “Well, I mean, I wouldn’t wish what happened to her on anybody, but it had gotten impossible to be close to her anymore. Did you know that she was an escort?” Shock must have registered on my face, because she nodded vigorously. “Yeah. A hooker, some people might call it. And she was selling drugs, too. Pills. Molly. People who do that are sort of asking for bad things to happen to them, don’t you think?”

  I didn’t know how to answer. Was Luna telling the truth? Peyton, an escort? I immediately thought about the photo in my purse—the one with the hand holding out pills. Molly, Luna had said. Peyton had been selling drugs. Good God, there were so many more possibilities of who might have attacked her now. How would I ever figure out who it might have been? Maybe it was time to admit I was in over my head. Maybe it was time to cry uncle, go ahead and let Detective Martinez take over, no matter how wrapped up in this mess I had gotten.

  Luna settled back into her booth, looking smug. “So I guess you don’t know her all that well, then,” she said.

  I shook my head. “I never said I did.”

  Luna sipped her drink again. “It’s all very unfortunate. I feel sorry for Peyton. She really got herself into a mess. And I feel even sorrier for Dru. I think someone’s setting him up.”

  “Who? Why?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe one of Peyton’s suppliers.” She rolled her eyes. “Maybe her pimp. Dru and Peyton were two little peas in a perfect pod. Maybe that pissed off one of her johns and he came after her in revenge. Who knows? Poor Dru. I worry he’ll be next.” Her eyes darted across the dining room. “Oh, and speak of the devil.”

  I followed her gaze. Dru was walking toward us, looking amazing in a pair of chinos and a crisp pink button-down, a Zegna tie bringing out his eyes. But, unlike me, he also looked like he fit in. He gazed at us curiously. Luna stood, greeting him.

  “There’s the man of the hour. Dru, Dru, Dru, you have never been very good at being on time. Nikki was sitting here all by her lonesome. Thank goodness I just happened to accidentally see your texts, so I could keep the poor girl
company.”

  “What are you doing here, Luna?” he asked.

  “I just told you. I’m entertaining Nikki. And I’m having a drink. Is there something wrong with that?”

  He plucked the nearly empty glass out of her hand. “Actually, yes. You’re sixteen.”

  The waitress breezed through with a fresh drink for Luna. Luna took it, all smiles. “Since when did you get so legal, Dru Hollis? It’s really very unbecoming. You don’t want Nikki here to think you’re an old poop.”

  Dru didn’t respond, but I could see his jaw work with displeasure.

  “Well,” Luna said brightly. “I guess I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. It was good to meet you, Nikki. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”

  I nodded to her; she waggled her fingers at me.

  “And I’ll see you later, big brother,” she said to Dru, pinching his cheek.

  And that was when I saw it. A flash of turquoise at the tip of her pinkie finger.

  I’d seen it before. I’d practically memorized it right before Luna had arrived.

  Someone’s doing something naughty. What’s got you so oblivious, Nikki Kill?

  I’d been trying to shut out my synesthesia since I was eight years old. Trying to be able to concentrate on things without seeing colors. I’d been so focused on the pills, my brain didn’t even register it. But it was there. Seeing it in person, I was sure I’d first seen it in the photo.

  An outstretched hand full of pills. The fingers splayed. A delicate charm pierced through the pinkie fingernail. A tiny chain.

  The letter R dangling at the end of it.

  The R flashed at me, turquoise, turquoise, turquoise.

  Luna had tried to convince me that Peyton was selling drugs. But if that were true—if Peyton had been the one doing the selling—why did she have a photo of Luna’s hand, full of pills?

  “I’m sorry about her,” Dru said, sitting where Luna had just been. “She’s a pain in the ass.” He assessed the look on my face. “Do I even want to know what she had to say before I got here?”

  I took a drink of my water, trying to get control over my thoughts, tamp them down. My mind was spinning. I needed to look at the photo again, be 100 percent certain that I was right before I said anything to Dru about what I’d seen. But there was no nonchalant way to go about that, not with him sitting right there, gazing at me like I was behind zoo bars.

  “She wanted to know how I knew you and Peyton,” I said. “I didn’t tell her about . . .” I trailed off, unsure how to put it. Using my forefinger, I gestured between us, leaving a violet trail in the air, which was quickly flooded over by a wave of pine-colored embarrassment.

  He smirked. “You mean what happened at Peyton’s apartment?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, she doesn’t know. She thinks we’re dating.”

  He reached across the table and took my hand. A jolt of the same chemistry I’d felt at the apartment ran through me, the white suede rippling purple, the pine gone. “It doesn’t matter what Luna thinks. I don’t regret it.” I ducked my head and he tipped his lower to catch my eyes, looking devilish.

  Purple. Turquoise. Orangish pink. Crimson. It was never-ending when I was around these people. My feelings, my intuition, my curiosity, everything. It all swirled together into an impossible tornado, and I no longer knew what exactly I was doing here. First it was Gibson and then not Gibson. It was Dru. It was the shadow man with the bracelet. It was one of Peyton’s johns, it was Luna. Every moment it changed. I was confused, and I hated the way my gut twisted every time I looked at Dru Hollis, every time I caught his scent on the air. Every time I touched him. And I hated the way Chris Martinez’s warnings crept into my head every time I was with Dru. And I especially hated how somewhere deep down it was those warnings—that possibility of danger—that made me want Dru even more.

  I knew the things that I knew. I was certain about them. But they were right and then wrong. I was learning that I couldn’t trust myself; how could I trust anyone else?

  “She had a good question, Dru. Why am I here?” I waved over my shoulder. “Obviously this is not my usual hangout. I’m so out of place here, and you have your own special table.”

  “We can go somewhere else,” he said.

  “No, it’s not that. It’s the bigger question. Why me? That seems to be the one thing I can’t answer when it comes to your family.”

  He wrapped his fingers solidly around my hand and used the fingers of his other hand to trace lightly up the length of my arm and down again. I shivered. “Because you’re different. You care about Peyton, and you weren’t even friends with her. You don’t fit in here, and that’s exactly why I like you. I don’t fit in here, either.”

  With horribly poor timing, the waitress reappeared. “Mr. Hollis? Bourbon neat?”

  “Not now, Liv,” he said, without looking at her, his voice cold and robotic, somehow reminding me of Hospital Bill Hollis, and she vanished like mist. The tingle in my arms moved up my neck as he kept the longing gaze.

  As much as I was learning that I detested everything the Hollises—and everyone like them—stood for, I would be lying if I said the control that he exhibited didn’t turn me on just a little. Funny, the thing that made me stay arm’s distance from Peyton, the thing that scared me about Bill Hollis, the thing that put me off Luna . . . made me want Dru.

  Even though I desperately did not want to, I pulled my hand free of his. It shook as I picked up my water and took another drink. “Luna said some things about Peyton.”

  Dru’s expression clouded as he leaned back, just as Luna had leaned back minutes before. “Such as?”

  “She said Peyton was an escort and that she sold drugs.”

  “She said that?”

  “Is it true?”

  Dru raised an arm to get Liv’s attention and made a motion with his finger. She nodded and hurried to the bar. I guessed he’d changed his mind about that drink. He folded his hands, tapping his thumbs together contemplatively. When Liv arrived with his drink, he pushed it a few inches away from him and shifted in his seat again.

  “Listen, Nikki. My family is anything but perfect. Everybody thinks it would be so great to have Bill Hollis for a dad, but there’s a lot of pressure. The bastard can’t just let us be who we are. We have to make him look good. We have to show the world how important we are. It’s unrelenting, and he doesn’t care about us as anything more than accessories that support his image. Sometimes, when the pressure gets to be too much, you . . . do things you aren’t proud of. My sister understood that. She got the same pressure, and even more from our so-called mother.”

  “So it’s true?” I asked. “Peyton was a prostitute?” I tried to imagine the girl who lorded over the hallways of our school selling her body at night. I couldn’t do it. Peyton was too perfect for that. But, like Dru had just said, pressure made people do strange things.

  He made a face, waved me off. “Who knows? Luna is a liar, and you never know what kind of bullshit is going to come out of her mouth next. If Peyton was an escort, and selling drugs, like Luna says, she did a hell of a job covering it up. I was the only one close to her, and if I didn’t know, I don’t know how in the hell Luna would.”

  “I thought you said your dad was the one closest to her.”

  He gave me a blank look.

  “At the hospital. You said your dad was going to be shattered. You said he was super close to Peyton.”

  He let out a snort. “My dad. No, my dad isn’t close to anyone. That’s just not the way the Great Bill Hollis gets ahead in this world.”

  My hands instinctively pulled away from the tabletop and the white tablecloth that stretched over it, and reached across the booth bench and curled protectively over my purse. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was I was picking up on. The way his eyes flicked to the side while he was talking. The fine mist of sweat that edged along his sideburns. The slight tremor in his hands while he rested them on the table.

  For the first time
since this all started, I saw gray tinging the corners of my vision, smoldering in like the filter of a burning cigarette. I wanted so badly to believe that Dru was innocent. But I was beginning to suspect he was also lying.

  18

  HALF AN HOUR later, Dru led me to the parking lot behind Lujo, his hand between my shoulder blades.

  “You got your Spyder,” I said, pressing my back against the driver’s side. The evening light made Dru’s tan skin stand out even more against his pink shirt. He’d loosened his tie, and it hung seductively around his neck, the first two buttons of his shirt undone.

  “Yeah,” he said, moving in close. “My dad was flipping out about it being in an apartment building parking lot. He’s already had Peyton’s apartment emptied.”

  “Already?”

  He nodded. “Cleaned out. After the cops got done with it. Her living at a place like that was an embarrassment to him, I’m sure.”

  “Yeah, but how’d he find someone to clean it out so fast?”

  Dru laughed, but there was something sharp behind the laughter. “He’s Bill Hollis. He can find anyone to do anything at any time. For the right price. You would be amazed at what, and who, can be bought in this world.”

  “You are not your father’s biggest fan,” I mused. I reached forward and fiddled with his tie. I couldn’t help myself.

  “Not at all.” He leaned in closer to me, putting his weight on his hand, which he’d rested on the car just above my head. I could feel his thighs near mine and smell the bourbon on his breath. “Don’t get me wrong. I like a person who’s tough.” He palmed my side with his free hand. “But with a little softness, too.” He moved his hand up my side so tenderly my insides melted.

  “You’re in luck,” I said, but I didn’t get to finish before his mouth was on mine, his entire body pressed up against me.

  “Come home with me,” he whispered against my mouth.