Heartstopper

by Lauren Landish

  I sit in my chair, gripping the glass of mineral water I’ve been sipping, wishing it were something stronger. We’re sitting in the back room of the club on two of the smaller couches that were saved from the mess that was the VIP section.

  The fire gutted a lot of the main room of Club Jasmine. The bar is a total loss, the marble top cracked and soot-streaked. As Nathan put it the first time we walked in yesterday, “Holy shit, there’s a fuckton of damage.”

  We’ve already started, financing everything through our own names and funds. It’s not much right now. I can hear the workers out front, a half-dozen guys clearing out the mess. While they do that, Nathan and I are back here, running numbers and trying to get the insurance company to get off their asses. If they don’t, a good chunk of our fortune is gonna go down the tubes and it’s all going be because of . . .

  A hard, bitter lump forms in my throat at the thought. I won’t let that angry, stupid fucking idea enter my head again. It’s not true. I’m just grateful that Nathan isn’t playing the blame game. Still, despite Nathan being my bro, despite all we've been through, I’d happily tell him to go fuck himself if he tried. I’m dealing with enough between Roxy and my sister.

  “Shit, man. I really hope they come through,” Nathan says after a moment in a calmer tone. When I don’t say anything, he glances at me and sighs. “It’s gonna fuckin’ hurt if they don’t.”

  “Did they?” I ask, already knowing the answer. I’m just still in a haze. I should be at Franklin Consolidated, but I talked with Elena this morning. She’s going to send all the files I need to look at electronically and keep me up to date on what I need to be there for. Right now, that place is the least of my damn worries.

  Nathan snorts. “Fuck, no. They’re dumb as hell. They’re saying they want the fire marshal’s report, and I told them five times I don’t have it. For fuck’s sake, I talked with the guy this morning, and he said that even a rush job would take him another week to get together. In the meantime, I’ve given them the video footage. We just need to get the fucking repairs underway.”

  I rub my face, feeling the unfamiliar rasp of stubble. I forgot to shave this morning. My head is pounding with a headache that should be in the fucking Guinness Book of World Records. Looking around the room, I sigh at how depressing it all is. I don’t even know why I came in. There’s nothing for me to do. At least Nathan can do his trading with his tablet. I can’t do half of my fucking job sitting back here.

  But while Franklin is my job, Club Jasmine was my dream. My way out. It was the thing that said I was working for myself, not for some nameless, faceless mass of shareholders and some board of rich assholes who wouldn’t understand what I’ve had to do to get to this point. Club Jasmine might have been just a nightclub, but it was magical when it was open. It’s my baby, and I feel compelled to check on it. Every day we’re closed is like a knife in my chest . . . and other than bleed money, there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.

  “How’s Sophie holding up through this?” Nathan asks after a moment. “I mean, the situation between you two.”

  “She’s not talking to me,” I say. “I was making progress before the accident. I mean, I thought I was. Sure, I’d spent a lot of time with Roxy and getting this place ready, but . . . now she’s down again. Maybe I said some things I shouldn’t have. I got so mad when I found out she was with the same asshole who brought her in here.”

  “You want to pay the fucker a visit?” Nathan asks. “I gave him a little speech before I let him go, but maybe he needs a little more convincing.”

  I think about it, then shake my head. “No. I’m still debating on it, but if I do, I’ll handle it myself.”

  Nathan snorts, shaking his head. “Teenage girls, man. Shit, even when we were teenagers, I preferred them older. I wouldn’t wish that death sentence on anybody. All hormones and Lifetime Channel bullshit.”

  Despite my sour mood, I have to chuckle at his crude way with words. “Sophie’s actually not that bad. In fact, up until now, she’s been practically an angel. I guess it was gonna catch up with me sooner or later.”

  “Actually, I’d say you’ve done pretty damn good with this.”

  I turn to Nathan, so exhausted and hurting that I speak my mind. “Nate, about the fire . . . I mean, you’ve gotta blame me some.”

  “Bullshit,” Nathan says with a harsh laugh. “I’m not a damn child. I agreed to the fucking pyro idea. Hell, I’ve spent days kicking myself over it, too. Roxy told me as they were getting on stage that they wanted to nix the pyro. I swear I passed it along. I even talked to the stage tech. He says the same. Nobody can find the damn pyro tech though. Someone didn’t get the fucking message.”

  “Sounds like there’s more than enough blame to go around and we all get to take a bite of the shit sandwich,” I whisper. “Thank you for telling me.”

  There’s a knock at the door, and I get up, swaying as the room spins. Nathan’s up in a flash, patting me on the arm. “Yo, you go home, Jake. I got this shit. You go take care of Sophie.”

  I nod as Nathan leads me to the door. Opening it, we see John, who’s been acting as crew chief. He looks different in his old army pants and combat boots, good for the work at hand. “Nathan—”

  “Just a moment, John,” Nathan says. “Call Jake a cab, and then tell me what’s on your mind.”

  John nods and disappears, and I give Nathan a grateful but exhausted nod. “Thanks, man. I owe you.”

  Nathan shakes his head. “Don’t sweat it.”

  We pull up to the address that I got from Sophie’s phone, a medium-sized house in what looks like a middle-class neighborhood out in the burbs. Luckily for me, Jax is already sitting out on the porch with a blonde girl on his arm, talking, laughing, and carrying on like he didn’t just almost kill my sister. I know I told Nathan I was still thinking about this, but I can’t stop myself.

  Seeing him laugh and joke around makes me even more mad. I jump out of the car and shut the door just a little too hard before telling the cabbie to wait, stalking up the sidewalk to the house.

  Be careful, a little voice warns in the back of my head. You don’t want to do anything that you’ll end up regretting.

  “What’s up?” I ask casually as I walk up.

  Jax’s grins slowly fades from his face as he recognizes me, and he turns a little pale. “Nothing much,” he says finally, a cool note entering his voice. “Just chilling with my girl, Erica.”

  I sneer. “Your girl, huh?”

  He nods, trying to act hard when I know he’s a scared little bitch. “Yeah, my girl.”

  That little smirk pisses me off and I can’t help it. Without warning, I snatch him up by the front of his shirt and slam him against the wall.

  “Hey!” Erica cries, getting up from her seat, startled by my violent behavior. “Stop it!”

  I ignore her, set in getting my point across. “You might not have been legally drunk, so the cops might be done with you, but you could’ve seriously hurt Sophie. I’m just going to say this once. Stay the fuck away from my sister or I’m going to come back here, and next time, I won’t be so nice. You won’t need a girl, because you’ll be missing a set of balls,” I growl menacingly in his face. “You understand me?”

  Jax gasps, his face turning a dark shade of red as he nods violently. “Yes, I understand! I won’t touch her, I swear!”

  I hold him in place for a moment longer, letting him feel true terror, then let him go. He comes away with a gasp, grabbing his throat. “Good,” I growl. “I don’t want to have to come back here again.”

  “What the hell was that for?” Erica demands as I step away, running forward to wrap her arm around Jax’s shoulder as he wheezes.

  “Dude’s an asshole, and I’ve had enough of him getting my little sister into things she shouldn’t be in,” I say. “Ask him about last weekend.”

  With that said, I turn and walk back to the cab. Behind me, I hear her demand of Jax, “What the hell is he tal
king about?”

  As I get in the cab and he starts the engine, I witness the two arguing, gesturing wildly at each other. The cabbie turns back and gives me a questioning look, but he doesn’t say a word. Before we pull off, I see that Erica’s had enough. She slaps Jax across the face, spins on her heels, and walks off.

  Chuckling, we drive off, and I can’t stop the smile that forms on my face.

  The apartment is silent as a tomb when I walk in, and except for the hum of the fridge in the kitchen, I can’t hear anything.

  “Sophie?” I ask, pulling off my suit jacket and draping it over the empty sofa. The remote for the TV is untouched, right where I left it this morning to check the news, and I grow more worried. I dropped her off this morning but sent a driver to pick her up after school. I didn’t hear anything about a problem, but still . . .

  I check my home office. Sophie uses my desktop computer from time to time. Nothing, and I grow more worried. Walking down the hallway, I stop outside her room, relief rushing through me as I hear something inside. I almost decide to let her be, but instead I knock softly. “Sophie?”

  There’s no answer, and I’m about to turn away when there’s a soft reply from the other side. “Come in.”

  I open the door and see her stretched out on her bed, watching one of the stupid Real Housewives shows. Way too much unneeded drama for me. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” she says, sitting up, and to my relief, turning off the TV. “You’re home early. For you, at least.”

  I think of making a wiseass remark, but instead I stop. This isn’t the time for it. “I came home because I wanted to see how you were doing. Whatcha been up to?”

  Sophie flops back, waving a hand at the TV. “Just watching TV. Jax tried to call me but I didn’t answer.”

  I step into her room, sitting on the edge of the bed and raising an eyebrow. “Why not?”

  Sophie looks embarrassed, and deep down, I see a little bit of hurt, too. “I saw him with some chick at a party on Instagram. I know of her. She’s a total skank.”

  “Oh,” I say quietly, glad that Sophie figured out that Jax is no good for her but sad that she’s hurt.

  Sophie reaches over, putting a hand on my arm. “I’m sorry, Jake.”

  She starts trembling, and I pull her up, giving her a hug. “I’m sorry too, Sophie. Because you’re right—you’re my sister and I should have given you more attention.”

  Sophie hugs me back. “I should’ve listened to you. You were right. He’s a piece of shit.”

  I hold in my grin. I’m happy I paid the little fucker a visit, though she doesn’t need to know that. “We all make mistakes,” I reply. “I think I’ve made one or two in my life.” It feels good to be hugging her again, like we’re back on the right path, the two of us against the world like it’s always been.

  Sophie chuckles, and I notice that I haven’t eaten. “You hungry? How about I make dinner for us?”

  “I could eat,” Sophie says, letting go. “I’ll help.”

  We go out to the kitchen, where I pull out some kale and bell peppers while Sophie roots around in the fridge. “Pork chops?”

  “Anything would be delicious for me,” I reply, washing the greens. Sophie nods, and silence falls over the kitchen. I want to make sure everything is smoothed over, but I don’t know how to start. Finally, I clear my throat. “Sophie, you’ve always been my number one priority, and as much time as the club and work take me away, I do it for us so that we can have a good life. I’m trying to do right by Mom and Dad and give you the life they’d want for you. But I don’t know what I’m doing, so I need you to help me here. Talk to me because I sure as fuck don’t know the first thing about teenage girls.”

  Sophie takes out the kitchen knife and starts butterflying the chops. “I know you’re trying your best, Jake. You’ve done well by me. I mean, you took me to get my first training bra. How many brothers can say that?”

  I chuckle, shaking my head. “Yeah . . . but seriously, Sophie, you are number one to me. Listen, I’m gonna promise you now that I’m going to spend more time with you. Just the two of us, like it used to be.”

  “But what about Roxy? Have you talked to her?” she asks.

  Just hearing Roxy’s name hurts, and I shake my head. “After I left your room, I said some pretty stupid shit to her in the hallway. I basically told her that all of this was her fault. I don’t think she wants to hear from me.”

  Sophie sets the knife down, turning to look at me. “You haven’t tried to talk to her since? What the hell are you waiting for?”

  “Oh, I tried,” I say quietly. “She’s not picking up her phone, and she wasn’t in the office today.”

  “And you just give up?” Sophie asks, turning back and picking up the knife. She butterflies the other chop, shaking her head. “That’s not like you, Jake. You could do more.”

  I glance over at Sophie. She’s dead serious. She puts the knife back down and goes to get the skillets. “You think so? And you’re okay with that?”

  “Me?” Sophie says, looking down. “Of course I am. I said some things I didn’t mean, too. I was talking out of anger and I’m sorry. I’m turning seventeen soon, Jake. I’ve got a year and some change of high school left, then hopefully I’m going to college. You need someone you can spend the rest of your life with. If you think she’s it, stop wasting time. You deserve it.”

  She’s right. No more waiting for her to answer the phone.

  Chapter 27

  Roxy

  “Get up, Roxy!” I hear someone say. In the near week that I’ve been calling off work, I’ve rarely left my room, preferring instead to spend as much time as I can wrapped in the blackness of my blanket and sleep.

  I groan from underneath the covers, barely awake. “Leave me alone,” I moan. “I took a shower yesterday!”

  “No!” snaps the voice, whom I finally recognize as Mindy. “I’m not going away. I have to leave in a few days and you’re being disrespectful to your family. Now get up!”

  I look at Mindy, but my tirade dies on my lips as I see her. She’s standing there, her hands on her hips, pissed like I haven’t seen her in a very long time. “Look at you. You look a hot mess. You’ve fallen apart. I already checked with Hannah. You won’t go to work. You haven’t eaten in three days. And why?”

  “Because I—”

  Mindy cuts me off. “Because you feel sorry for yourself! I know you feel bad about what happened, but you can’t let it control your life.”

  Her words hit me hard, and I look down, catching a whiff of myself. I am a fucking mess. I feel so horrible, guilty and ashamed that my family came all this way to see me, and here I am avoiding them because I can’t deal with the shame and hurt I feel. “Mindy . . .”

  Mindy won’t relent. “The past five days, every time we called, you wouldn’t answer. I called your home phone and even talked with Hannah, trying to get you to come to the hotel. Then I come by today, only to find out that Hannah hasn’t even been able to get your ass out of bed? Your room smells like the zombie apocalypse, and I’m not putting up with it anymore!”

  I feel like the worst person in the world. I swear I’ve almost had a mental breakdown over what happened. Starting a fire in the club, feeling responsible for Sophie getting in a crash, the music guy telling me I was done, and I feel like I’ve lost Jake. I’m just ready to give up. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, tears trickling down my cheeks. “I just feel terrible for causing a shit storm.”

  Mindy reaches down, pulling me to my feet. “Well, we’re changing everything starting now. Do you know what today is?”

  “What?” I ask, and Mindy wipes a tear from my cheek with her thumb, just like she used to do when we were kids.

  “The day you said you were going to the studio to record that song you wrote.”

  I immediately shake my head, trying to pull back. “No way, not that. What’s the point? That’s a waste of time.”

  Besides, the man I love and wrote it for wo
n’t even be there. He’s never going to hear it. It hurts to even think about Jake. When Mindy says I haven’t eaten, that’s why. I think about Jake, and my stomach hurts so much that I can’t even imagine food.

  “Yes, you are. You’re going to shower and eat, and we’re heading downtown to record that song.”

  “There’s no point!” I protest. “You heard that asshole. That was my one and only chance!”

  Mindy grabs me by the shoulders, looking into my eyes. “The point is, you owe it to yourself. Do it for you. Fuck everything and everyone else. You go in there, and you put that thing on disc for you. Or so help me God, I’m going to introduce you to realms of pain you can’t even imagine!”

  Her corny line breaks through, and I smirk. “Oh, how’s that? I’ve already heard you sing.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve never heard Gavin sing,” Mindy says. “Don’t make me get ugly on you.”

  You better bring it, boy,

  I’ve only got tonight

  I’m leaving town tomorrow, I can’t stay the night

  Have places to go, Catching an early flight

  If you want me to stay, you gotta come correct

  My heart’s almost yours, take that final step

  Heartstopper, Heartstopper

  Can you feel it in my chest?

  Heartstopper, Heartstopper,

  Fingers on my breast

  Your touch is electric,

  Has been from the start

  Give it to me, baby,

  Or I’ma stop your heart.

  I let out a breath, gasping for air as I sing the last note and the club banging beat plays in the background. I don’t know how they got the music mixed so perfectly so quickly, but it’s amazing.

  Maybe I’m wasting my time. Maybe this is nothing more than a final middle finger to anyone who’s doubted me. But for the past hour and forty-five minutes that I’ve been in the recording booth, I’ve felt a change coming over me. All the worries and pains I’ve been going through fell away. It was just me, the music, and my heart.