Bad Wolf

by Jo Raven

  Doesn’t feel like one. And I feel so many strange things for her, things I never thought I could feel for anyone so deeply, so strongly. Things that are turning me inside out.

  “Scoot over,” I tell her, and climb back inside, then pull her into my arms. Where she belongs. She sighs, turning so that she’s facing me, slipping her arm over my hip and burying her face in my chest. “You okay?”

  She hums, a small satisfied sound that makes me grin. Then she asks, “When you said you don’t like me earlier... when you said that’s too weak a word, what did you mean?”

  I stare over her blond head at the far wall, the slats throwing bright lines on it, and I wonder if it’s moonlight spilling through. “Gigi…”

  “You answer a question, I answer one. It’s only fair.”

  “What?” I glance down at her, startled. Her face is turned up at me. “Gigi, no.”

  “Come on. It’s just you and me here.”

  True. Feels like we’re alone in the world.

  “I’m… not sure what I meant,” I say truthfully, and yet lying. I’m not sure what I’d meant to say, but I sure as hell know how I feel.

  This game fucking sucks.

  “Fine,” she whispers, a line appearing and fading again on her forehead. “Your turn to ask.”

  I open my mouth and close it. Ask her something about herself? So many questions that I have and not one comes to mind now.

  “What really happened in Destiny?” I blurt out.

  Shit.

  Well, she’s the one who wanted to play.

  I expect her to push me away, turn her back to me. That’s what I’d have done. Put distance between us. Close herself off.

  Instead she snuggles closer, nuzzles my chest, and my dick starts getting interested in what’s happening once more.

  “In Destiny, we were the pariahs,” she says. “We didn’t know our father, and the local bullies had a field day with that. They called us bastards, called our mom a whore. Mostly they did it with my oldest sister, Octavia. I got… a different kind of attention.”

  “Shit, woman.” I shift to get a better look at her face. “Did they touch you?”

  She gives a quick, jerky nod. “They’d follow me around, especially after school. Try and corner me in quiet spots where nobody would see them, and feel me up. Show me their dicks. Try to get me to suck them. Once they pretended they were going to rape me. They didn’t, though.”

  I feel sick. My vision is narrowing like a tunnel. I’m aware of my heartbeat booming. “Holy motherfucker. You’re giving me names, and I’m gonna make them regret the fucking day they were born. Those assholes—”

  “Shh.” She rubs her hand up and down my chest. “It’s over, Rett.”

  But it’s not, is it? It’s like a thorn in her mind. I know how that feels. And I feel like I’ve failed her, even though back then I hadn’t even known she existed.

  “My turn,” she says and turns a smile at me.

  “Shoot,” I grunt, too furious and frustrated to care about this little game anymore.

  “What’s your middle name?”

  I stare at her. “No way. Another one.”

  She laughs. “Okay. When I told you we were moving away… You were so pissed at me. Told me to leave you alone. Why?”

  “What?” I blink at her, confused. “I didn’t…” Did I? I try to remember the details of those awful days. “I had… Fuck, I’m sorry.” I close my eyes. “Dad… Mr. Lowe had just died. And then you said you were leaving, and I just… I kinda lost it, I guess.”

  She lifts a hand to my face, strokes my jaw. Her eyes are sad. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t know about that. God, these past two years I thought you’d been so mad at me.” She sighs. “Your turn.”

  “I dunno, Gigi.” My thoughts are all tangled up with memories right now, and my heart’s hammering so hard I feel sick.

  “Then here’s another one: why do you limp?”

  No way. “Know what? This game is stupid. I think we should fuck again.”

  She laughs quietly. “Answer my question.”

  “Or what? You’ve never asked me this before.”

  “We’ve never done this before.”

  Lying in bed quietly together after sex. Talking. Holding on to each other like we’d sink otherwise and disappear.

  “An old accident,” I mutter, my heartbeat slowly quieting. “When I was little.”

  “I’m sorry. Must have been bad. Were you a—”

  “My turn,” I cut in, desperate to change the topic. “I thought of a question. What, uh… What were you doing at the nursing home tonight?”

  I hadn’t stopped to think about it much, with everything happening too fast for my overloaded mind, but now I’ve asked the question, I really wanna know.

  “Mom bakes cakes for her friends. Has been since ever. And your mom is her friend, so…” A small shrug. “When I realized who her friend Becky was, I asked to deliver the cake myself.”

  “What for?”

  “I was hoping to find out more about you. To understand you.”

  I stare at her. “And what did you find?”

  “I found you,” she whispers.

  I frown. “In the rain.”

  “No, in here.” She taps my chest. “You’re the Rett I knew. And I won’t stop until I find all your missing pieces, because I want the whole of you.”

  “I found you.”

  “I want the whole of you.”

  Her words stay with me long after we get up in the morning and go our separate ways, as I check my phone and find a nonsensical message from an enraged Seb and a terse one from Angel about a gang meeting, asking where the hell I am.

  Then I come to the apartment to find it trashed, my mattress shoved to the floor, my few belongings smashed.

  Guess Seb was looking for money. Which I don’t have. What a joke. Did he even stop to think I might not have anything left?

  What a dick.

  Disgusted, I start straightening things up, then sit down on the bare bed and close my eyes for a minute, gathering my damn wits. Last night was a dream, an illusion. It won’t happen again.

  This is your life, Jarett. It chose you. You chose it. So face it.

  Fucking own it.

  I get up and tidy up the best I can. No use whining and wishing things were different. I promised to Mom, I swore, and…

  “Let me take care of you,” Gigi says.

  She smiles.

  I’m losing my mind. Losing my perspective. The gang owns my ass now, and they’re suspicious of me already. They don’t need Spidey Sense to know my heart ain’t in the business. It’s no secret I’m there to look over Seb, and Angel doesn’t like that.

  I wonder how Mav feels about it. What he and Angel have discussed regarding me.

  Maybe Seb is right. Maybe he’s important in the gang, and doesn’t need me.

  Then I take another look around the apartment and grit my teeth. Yeah, right. A guy who can’t keep a job, who’s either high or in a low and fucking desperate to score his next dose. I bet Angel and Mav count on him so much.

  Taking a shower, I throw on some clean clothes and head to work. The place is already bustling, and the boss shoots me a dirty look when I walk in even though I’m right on time.

  “About time you turned up, boy,” he mutters loud enough for me to hear. “What happened, up all night robbing stores again?

  I freeze. “What did you say?”

  “You think I don’t know who you are? You think I don’t know that the gang you’re in robbed my cousin’s store the other night?”

  Fuck. Me. “So why the hell did you hire me?”

  He snorts. “You think it’s easy to find hired help these days? Fucking hell. Go help Mason in the kitchen and quit asking.”

  I tie on an apron and get to work, doing my best not to look over my shoulder as I help Mason fry onion rings and fries, feeling the boss’s gaze like a laser dot, burning a hole between my shoulder blades.


  All the tension that had bled out of me at Gigi’s house is returning, tightening my shoulders, spiking a headache behind my eyes.

  This is who you are now. A gangster. A criminal. Nobody who really knows you could like you.

  Gigi’s eyes flash in my mind, and I scowl down at the fries sizzling in the oil in front of me. No, dammit. Stop.

  I try not to think of her when Angel calls later to tell me there’s gang business going down tonight, when the night air hits me, and I feel eyes following me as I limp across the street, or when I pat my gun in the back of my pants.

  Come on, Jarett… Face the truth. Face who you are and what the future has in store for you.

  One thing’s for fucking sure: it’s not sunlight and roses.

  And it’s not Gigi.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Gigi

  Getting on the bus and going to classes this morning has a dreamlike quality. I keep getting lost inside my head, in the memories of Jarett and me from the night before. Talking to him, lying in his arms, sharing so much pleasure with him… his kisses, his scent, his body pressed to mine, his low voice late into the night, answering questions I’ve been dying to ask.

  Answering and yet keeping so much back.

  And now he’s gone back to his life. To the gang. I didn’t ask him if anything changed for him. How can one night change anything?

  But it has, for me. It peeled away my doubts, my uncertainty about him. Even if I don’t know everything about him yet, I believe what I told him: you don’t need to know much to know you like someone.

  My heart knows him. I should have listened to it from the start.

  But how to reconcile that with the fact he didn’t promise anything will change? I know I should give him time, though God, patience was never my strong suit. I stare at my phone and will it to ding or ring with a message from him.

  I want to hear his voice again. I’m so smitten it’s ridiculous. Gone, head in the clouds, head over heels.

  So when Sydney pops up in front of me on my way to one of the campus cafeterias, I almost jump out of my skin.

  “Holy crap, woman.” I tap my chest, telling my heart to slow down. “You scared me to death.”

  “Sorry. I was about to call you, see how you’re doing.” She has her copper curls done in a braid. She flicks it over her shoulder and winks at me. “And Jarett.”

  A blush creeps up my neck. “Uh, he’s okay.”

  “You’ve been with him again, haven’t you?” She grins at me like a mischievous imp, and links her arm with mine. “Tell Syd all about it. You know you want to.”

  I do. I’ve always told her everything, and I’m bursting to tell someone, anyone, about my feelings, my thoughts, my questions.

  Sydney, though? Not so sure I trust her anymore, not like before.

  I’ll just have a coffee with her, I decide, and make small talk, then I’m off home.

  “Holy shit, he made you come twice before he did? Not something you’d get with most guys, trust me. And aw boy, he said that to your mom? About nobody wanting to adopt him? That’s so sad.”

  Yeah, my resolution not to tell Syd everything held all of five minutes. I had too much gathered in my chest not to let it out. I felt like I was going to explode.

  And ended up spewing up every little detail to Sydney. Feels like old times.

  “He sounds so nice,” she says, eating the foam off her latte with her spoon. “Like any girl would wish her boyfriend to be.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I whisper, stirring my coffee that has long gone cold.

  “Aw.” She puts her spoon down. “I’m sure he’ll ask you. I have a gut feeling. That boy is so in love with you.”

  “I wish I could be so sure.”

  “You are. You love him, Gigi.”

  My face warms. “What gave me away?”

  “You look so happy when you talk about him. Can’t fake that.”

  No, I can’t, can I? “I don’t know what to do,” I confess.

  “Call him.”

  “No way. I can’t. He’s…” I push my mug away. “He’s caught up in bad things.”

  “So you’ve told me. But you decided he’s worth it.”

  “Worth what?”

  She looks at me like I’ve caught the stupid. “You, girl. He’s worth having you. That’s big, you know. I’ve never heard you talk about someone like that. It’s like every word comes from your heart.”

  I bow my head. “It does,” I whisper. “But the gang…”

  “Show him.”

  “What?” I blink at her.

  “Show him what it could be like, without the gang. With you. You see…” Her gaze goes kind of distant. “If you’ve spent your life fighting, you don’t know what peace is. You don’t know what kindness is.”

  “He’s kind,” I protest.

  “Good.” She smiles. “Then there’s hope for him. Help him, Gigi. Convince him he can live this life, that even if he loses everything, he can still have you. Do it now, before he gets in too deep with the gang, before he gives up his life for the only cause he knows. Show him there’s more to life.”

  “And since when have you become all-knowing?” I say, my voice shaking.

  “I’ve always been all-knowing,” she says with a wink. “Chin up, girlfriend, and go get your man.”

  “Jesus, I don’t know,” I whisper. “I sort of kidnapped him last night. I’m sure repeated kidnappings are frowned upon by the law.”

  “He didn’t seem upset, though, did he?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “And he didn’t tell me why he was standing out in the rain. I’m worried about him.”

  “Listen to me, Gigi.” She leans across the table. “Listen to your wise friend who will get her own ducks in a row someday. Don’t wait for him to call. Not now. You made the last move? So what? Make the next one, too. Why do we have to wait for the men to come after us?” She highfives me. “Power to the women, girl!”

  Sighing, reluctantly smiling, I highfive her back. “Yeah.”

  She makes it sound simple. Too simple.

  But she has a point… Why not call him? He has a lot going on in his life right now. I’ll just check on him, make sure he’s okay.

  By the time I gather the courage to call, it’s after my last class, and it’s getting dark outside. I ring his number as I walk toward the bus stop, and slow down when it goes to voicemail.

  Disappointment hits me. I realize then that I’d been holding my breath, waiting for his low, deep voice to come over the phone. Hoping for a hint of a smile when he spoke to me to show his pleasure at my call.

  Oh come on, Gigi. He’ll call back.

  Caught up in thought, I’ve passed by a vaguely familiar door, and stop. A bar. Wait a minute, isn’t that where he works?

  Two guys stumble out, and I grab the door before it closes and enter.

  Yeah, this is the place. What was the name of the bartender I talked with last time? David, right?

  But he doesn’t seem to be there. Jarett either, for that matter. A woman approaches me from behind the bar and smiles.

  “What can I get you?” she asks.

  “I was hoping to talk to Jarett, if he’s here,” I say, glancing around. “Is he working tonight?”

  “Jarett.” Something shifts in her expression, and I’m not sure if it’s anger, or regret, or both. “He doesn’t work here anymore.”

  “What?” That snaps me back to attention. “Since when?”

  “Days ago. A pity. He’s a damn good bartender, even if having to peel women off him every night was getting tiresome.”

  She’s pissed with him about that.

  She has a crush on him.

  Do all the girls he knows have a crush on him? Jesus.

  I force my hands to stay relaxed at my sides, even as irrational anger warms me up from the inside. Did he kiss her? Did he hold her?

  “Boss fired him because he missed too many shifts with his mom being so s
ick,” she goes on. “I heard he landed a job at a fast-food place not far, if you’re looking for him.”

  She’s eyeing me, a calculating gleam in her eyes.

  “Where?”

  “Across the street, two blocks to your left. Burnt Burgers, or Fun Burgers, or something. I can never remember the name.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No worries. Tell him… tell him Suzie says hi. And that I hope he’s okay.”

  “Sure.” He never talked about this Suzie gal. “You and him are friends?”

  She shrugs, looks uncomfortable. “I’m not sure.”

  Whatever that means. “Okay, Suzie.”

  I turn around to go, but she comes around the bar and stops me. “Wait. Tell him I’m sorry. Please?”

  “What for?”

  “I may have cost him his job. I didn’t cover one of his shifts like he asked me to. I was upset with him, and… and the boss got furious when nobody showed up and fired him. My fault. Jarett never said he was interested in me, I just assumed, and… anyway, tell him I’m sorry.”

  She disappears into a back door of the bar, and I’m still staring after her.

  Well, okay. Not sure how to feel about all this. Pity? Fury at her for costing him his job? Or at assuming he wanted her?

  Come to think of it, isn’t that exactly what I’m assuming right now about myself?

  Crap…

  I trudge across the street and down two blocks, until I locate Fat Burgers. I guess this must be the place. I press my nose to the glass of the front window, trying to see inside, but no Jarett. Okay.

  I could go inside and ask.

  Ugh, no way. Enough with this search, I’m getting a weird stalkerish vibe. Let him call me back. Let him be the one to make the next move, and also let Sydney say all she wants.

  This is so hard. I never knew that loving someone means to hold back, not to push, to pretend not to worry. To tie your own hands so you can let the other person be free.

  If he doesn’t call back, if he doesn’t care about seeing me, talking to me, then that’s his choice.

  I never knew loving someone is the same as letting someone go with the hope they will come back.

  Hurrying to the bus stop, I blow into my hands to warm them. The days are getting colder. Taking out my phone, I stare at the blank screen. No missed calls. No text messages.