by Melody Anne
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.
But Sara just sat there, pale and too thin, her blank, shadowed eyes never meeting mine.
She even signed the paperwork requesting a goddamned restraining order against me.
“Seth, maybe it’s time to consider that you can’t save her.”
Ryan’s voice was so low, I was surprised I even heard it over the volume of voices in the bar. But it cut thro
ugh me like a razor blade. My hand shook when I reached for my glass, only realizing it was empty when I lifted it to my mouth.
“What the fuck do you think I should do, Ryan? She’s my sister, the only family I have left. I can’t just walk away and let him kill her too. I’m going to do whatever it fucking takes to get her away from him. Whatever, man.”
Ryan signaled Jimmy for two more beers and rested his hand on my shoulder. “I know. It was a stupid thing to say. We’ll figure it all out, man. Just like we always have.”
CHAPTER NINE
Avery
“I don’t want to go out tonight,” I told Shari for the thousandth time on Saturday. “I’m exhausted.”
“You laid by the pool all day, how hard can that be? Besides, I have to move back to the sorority house tomorrow night, and I need some time with my girl before I won’t see you every day. Dad got me tickets to see Rustic Tower, he wants my opinion of their sound because he’s thinking of wooing them. Please, please, please say you’ll come with.” Shari pouted and I caved immediately.
“You’re moving tomorrow night? I thought it was a week from today?” It was a day I was dreading. We were supposed to be moving back together, celebrating our senior year with our sisters. Now Shari would go back and I would be stuck at the apartment. Alone.
“Becky wanted the seniors back a week early to get everything ready. There’s a huge welcome back party happening next Saturday. I wish you were going to be there.” Shari looked genuinely upset, and I hugged her.
“One semester. That’s all. It’ll be over before you know it,” I promised.
“But you lost your vice presidency, Ave. You worked so hard for the past three years, and now it’s all gone. And for what? All because Grant is an asshole. I’m going to rip his balls off when I see him at the party, I promise.”
As much as I liked that idea, I shook my head. “I was the one who made the stupid decision, Shar. It’s on my head. I’m just hoping that once this is over, Dad can somehow get my records sealed. If Grant agrees, that is.”
“The asshat owes you that much,” Shari growled. “He should never have pressed charges either. It was his fault!”
I agreed with her on that part. But there was nothing to do about it now.
“Okay. I’ll go. But I won’t have fun.”
“I’d never expect you to, babe. But in case there is a hunk of a man there who wants to take you home, give him a chance. That’s all I’m asking.”
My mind immediately went to Seth. God, I needed to get over this. Working next to him made it worse because I got to ogle his ass all day long. Then go home alone. Again and again. Completely frustrated, no less, because I could not stop thinking about the way my body reacted to him.
I’d find myself looking at his hands. Even in blue gloves, they were hot. So strong and firm, and they knew exactly how and where to touch. I regretted stopping him that night at the bar every day.
I wanted to know what would have happened next.
I closed my eyes and let out a frustrated breath. For the first time ever, I was sexually frustrated. Shari would be so proud.
“You’re right. I think I need to get laid,” I shouted to Shari, who had disappeared into her room to find something to wear.
Shari screamed and came running out in just her bra and panties. “Yes, yes, yes. Hold that thought until we get to the waterfront. Go find your sexiest outfit, babe. Tonight, we find you a man. Oh, maybe we can get backstage and you can live out one of those groupie fantasies we all have.”
“Seriously? No, we don’t all have fantasies about banging guys in a band. I think that’s all you, babe.”
Shari laughed and disappeared back into her room. I dropped my face to my hands. Oh, God. I should never have said that out loud. The idea of going home with some strange guy made me very nervous. The more I thought about it, the more slasher movie scenes flickered through my head. Dumb girl going off alone with strange guy.
My pulse hammered in my ears.
The one time I almost did it ended in a humiliation that played out every weekday between six and two. Then there was the whole other part.
Doing it.
The real problem was that I wasn’t that good in bed. Grant had never been shy about telling me what I did wrong, and it seemed that quite a lot of my natural instincts weren’t right. Whenever I tried anything he didn’t tell me to do, he told me I was doing it wrong.
After three and a half years, I’d come to acknowledge that I was one of those women who just never orgasmed from sex. After a few nights of research, I found out it wasn’t that uncommon.
So the fact that it never happened with Grant made sense.
And the fact that Shari shared her exploits, vividly, made it obvious that she was not one of those women. I envied her, that gleam in her eye when she talked about a night with some random guy. Of orgasm after orgasm. I’d never had one during sex. Ever.
I hated that I was so obviously broken.
Sharing that intimate detail with a stranger was terrifying. Seth’s face popped into my head. Immediately my pulse leapt. Too bad he hated me, because even just his kisses had made me wild with desire. Imagine what might have been if I had let things go farther.
God, this was too much.
I poked my head into Shari’s room. “I don’t think I can do this after all.”
She spun around and glared at me. “You can and you will. Look, you don’t have to actually go home with anyone tonight, but pretend it’s an option. You’re gorgeous and have a rockin’ bod, and you need someone to show you that Grant was a douche who didn’t appreciate anything you gave him. Flirt, have fun, get outside yourself for one night, Avery. You need it.”
Maybe she was right. I’d been half of a couple for so long I no longer had my own identity. Not that I ever really did before that. I went from daughter to girlfriend without the chance just to be me.
I groaned and went to my room and immediately buried my head under a pillow.
“Nope. Get your ass up and get in the shower. I’ll even lay out clothes for you.” When I didn’t move, Shari leaned down and started to shake the bed. “Nonnegotiable, counselor. Now move.”
“Careful or I’ll find you in contempt,” I grumbled, pushing myself off the bed.
“Oh, baby, I love it when you talk all lawyery at me. It’s sooo dirty.” She dropped to a deep squat and pretended to hump my leg.
I couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up from deep inside me. God, I was going to miss her. The place was going to be so quiet. Seven weeks. The longest I’d ever gone without living with someone. Holy crap. I was twenty-one and I’d never been alone.
Shari and I shared a dorm room the first semester, then we got into Kappa Delta sorority, and that had been our school year home. During the summer we lived here, at the apartment that Dad said he bought as an investment, though I knew he did it so that Shari and I had someplace to live that he deemed safe enough.
I didn’t have to work at all because we had no expenses. Everything was included in the apartment, right down to the once-a-week housekeeping service. A grocery delivery service had our weekly order on file, and it was billed to my parents. Even our take-out nights went on the credit card that was paid off every month.
My parents had always been adamant that I concentrate only on college. Any kind of part-time job would only take away from study time, they reasoned. The one exception was internships, mostly at firms where my dad had contacts. Not that it bothered me. As much as I loved coffee, I couldn’t imagine having to make hundreds of cups for people every day for eight dollars an hour.
Shari was in the same position. Her parents paid for everything from her Range Rover to her weekly manicure. Her dad was a pretty high-profile music agent, part of the reason she got tickets to the concert tonight. She was in school for design, but we both knew that she’d end up with some ultrarich protégé of a family friend. That’s just how it worked with old money.
A
fter law school, I’d be taking care of myself, and I couldn’t wait. I already had it planned. My own salary, my own place. Maybe I’d buy a house in a quiet neighborhood where I could have a dog. Grant was allergic to animals. I’d never had a dog.
I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself up in a soft, oversize towel.
Shari’d left me a mixed drink on the vanity, and I grabbed it on the way out of the bathroom. Liquid courage. I was going to need more than one to get through tonight.
Thank God she hadn’t gone overboard on my outfit. Sometimes her taste ran into slutty territory, but she obviously knew how close I was to locking myself in my room and refusing to go.
My favorite jeans because they made my ass look amazing and a black corsetlike top out of her closet lay on the bed. No way could I get away with a bra with so much showing, but the top was tight enough to keep the girls under some semblance of control.
A lacy black thong went on under my jeans. Not like anyone was going to see it tonight, but I knew it was there and I felt a little more sexy in it. I smoothed my favorite berry-scented lotion over my arms and neck.
Since tonight was about letting loose, I used the diffuser on my hairdryer and left the natural curl in my hair. Normally I straightened it or threw it into a side braid. I hated my curly hair, probably from years of my mother telling me I looked like a homeless gypsy, but tonight it hung over my shoulders and didn’t look half bad. All the hours in the sun had given my dirty blond hair some highlights that reflected the light and looked really good.
And holy shit. Had my arms always had that dip near my shoulders? I turned in the mirror to check them out. The gym had fallen to the back burner with the exhausting days of CS, but I swear my arms looked more lean and toned.
Huh.
I had just finished brushing a little bronzer over my face and was on my second swipe of mascara when Shari barged in.
“God, I hate you,” she said dramatically. “You look like the fucking girl next door. All hot and innocent looking. No guy in the place is going to notice me.”
I snorted. The way the neck of her barely there silk shirt hung low enough to show half her boobs to anyone who looked, I highly doubted she was right. Her black leather shorts were almost up to her ass, but she pulled it off and managed to still look classy.
