by Tracey Ward
“Hey, babe. Where you been?” His tone is casual and curious, not accusing. Devo isn’t the possessive type. Never has been.
I pull my purse strap off over my head. “I went to Golden Meadows to see Pops.”
“Stratford’s grandpa?”
“He practically raised me,” I remind him defensively.
“I remember. How’s he doing?”
“Not great.” I sit down heavily in the dining area. “He looks so small.”
“He’s not a big guy to begin with, right?”
“Yeah, but he’s not just small. He’s thin. He looks scary fragile.”
Devo frowns. “What’s up with him?”
“Old age, I guess. Josh said he had a stroke.”
“Shit. I’m sorry, Harley.”
I smile weakly. “Thanks. I think I’m gonna start going to see him more often. It was good to catch up and he doesn’t really have anyone else. No one but Josh.”
“How often does he go?”
“Twice a week.”
“Is that how often you’re going to go?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
He shrugs. “I’m wondering if you’re going to start going at the same time as he is. That’s all.”
“Why does it matter if I do?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Devo deflects.
But it does matter. He’s not overly possessive but he’s not passive either. He knows how far back Josh and I go. How deep that bond runs. He’s never been threatened by it but he’s never been a fan of it either.
And he doesn’t even know the half of it.
“Hey, how was the run with Raw?” I ask suddenly. Intentionally.
Devo’s demeanor changes in an instant. He sits up straight in bed, his eyes turning back to the TV. “It was good. Quick and easy. In and out.”
He fucked someone else.
I know it without a doubt but I don’t ask about it because I can’t. I also don’t want to. Devo does me a favor by not sleeping with the girls here at the club. He never goes local. The pussy he’s pulling on the side is always out of town, out of sight, out of my mind. But lately I’ve been more aware of it. I care less than I did before but I’m noticing it more. It’s a weird mix of feelings. Like seeing the sun and instead of saying, ‘It’s a beautiful day’ I’m just thinking, ‘It’s bright out’. I have no emotional response to it whatsoever.
“Good,” I tell him airily, standing to go to the fridge. “Are you hungry? I could make us some lunch?”
“Nah, we ate before we came home.”
“Okay. If you’re good, I’m gonna go inside and check on the bar. Make sure the girls have it ready to roll for tonight.”
He looks at me then. At my face and my body. My tits and my legs.
He shakes his head faintly. “I’m good.”
“Good.” I lean down to kiss him briefly. “I’ll see you later.”
“Later, babe.”
Two years ago, that exchange would have left me near tears. I would have been devastated to know he’d been with someone else. That he didn’t want me when he got home. I would have wondered what was wrong with me. Was I getting fat? Getting old? Was I boring? Stupid? Nagging? All the things my dad warned me I was and would become, I’d see them in Devo’s rejection.
But today, I feel nothing.
Not one goddamn thing.
I hurry from the trailer to the backdoor of the bar, my hair whipped by the wind across my face. It’s cold. Winter is on its way and it’s not going to be kind. Before you know it, it will be Halloween, then Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and New Years, and all the baking and eating and singing and shit that goes with it. I’ve never been a big fan of the holidays. My dad wasn’t exactly the holly jolly type.
Once I’m inside, I head straight for the bar. I didn’t close last night. Lila did. And Lila is notorious for not doing the dishes before the next shift. It’s a real pain in my ass, and when I look under the bar, even in the dim light of the empty room, I can see that there are no clean glasses ready for tonight.
“Stupid fucking bitch,” I growl under my breath.
“Problem?”
I snap upright, my eyes darting to the booth in the corner. My heart screaming in my throat.
Josh is sitting there with a text book and a cell phone in front of him. He grins when he sees my face, not the least bit sorry he scared the shit out of me.
“What are you doing here?” I ask breathlessly. My heart is working on finding a steady rhythm again. It’s taking longer than it should.
“I’m waiting for Raw. We have an errand to run together but he had to go check on his daughter first.”
“What sort of errand?”
Josh’s face gives nothing away. It probably helps that it’s a swollen mask of pain, but some of that is just Josh. He’s always been good at hiding his feelings when he wants to. “We have a party to go to,” he answers cryptically.
I nod heavily, unconsciously stepping toward him. Sinking into the shadows with him. “He’s going with you to deal.”
“That’s the plan.”
“I’m glad,” I tell him honestly. “He’ll keep you safe.”
“For a price.”
“He’s taking a cut?”
Josh nods, absently smoothing his palm over the open page in his book. “He and the club.”
My heart hits hard in my chest before collapsing. Instantly, I forget about the kiss and the way he makes me feel. I forget all the reasons I should run screaming in the other direction. All I remember is my friend.
I fall down into the booth across from him, my body going limp with defeat. With worry. “You’re going into business with the club?”
“I had to. I don’t have much of a choice.”
“They didn’t give you a choice?”
“Life didn’t give me a choice,” he corrects me forcefully. “Raw is the only reason I have product to sell right now. He’s the only reason I’m not completely screwed. And with the club backing me, I can buy more inventory meaning I can make more money meaning I can keep Pops in the home, keep a roof over my head, and maybe turn the power back on, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Too many luxuries will ruin a man.”
“Your power is off?”
“My power, my water, my everything,” he rattles off bitterly. “I live in the dark sleeping on a couch in the cold, Harlow, so this is a good thing for me. A really good thing.”
“Are you convincing me or you?”
He doesn’t answer right away. He watches me, his face changing. Opening until his eyes are unguarded and unsure.
He shakes his head minutely. “I don’t know.”
“Are you scared?”
“Yeah, I’m scared,” he chuckles. “I’m not an idiot. I know what this is.”
“I didn’t want this for you,” I tell him quietly, leaning toward him over the table. “When I introduced you to Raw, I was hoping to avoid this.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“I brought you into this. I brought you here. If it weren’t for me, you would never have talked to them about what you do.”
“And I’d be up shit creek right now. You gave me options, but I made my own choices. I could have told them ‘no’.”
“And they could have beaten you half to death and taken it away anyway.”
“Or they could have left me alone. We’ll never know because I chose to go in on this with them. And in a year, I’ll hand it over, free and clear.”
“What?” I demand, shocked. “You’re giving them the business when you leave for MIT?”
Josh hesitates, his eyes narrowing. “How did you know about MIT?”
“Pops. I went to see him today.”
“He must have been surprised.”
“Yeah, he was. We had a good talk, though. Mostly about you.”
He smirks. “Well, the world revolves around me.”
/>
“His definitely does.” I look down at the table, running my thumbnail along a crack in the wood. “It was good to see him. I felt bad that I hadn’t been before.”
“What else did you talk about? Besides me?”
“Football. Life. Beer.”
He laughs, subdued and easy. “You brought him beer, didn’t you?”
I smile. “I may have taken him something to drink.”
“No wonder he was happy to see you.”
“He was happy to see me because I’m fucking wonderful.”
“That too.”
My smile fades slowly as my memory kicks in. “He looked so small,” I whisper. “I was scared to hug him at first.”
It’s Josh’s turn to look away, avoiding my eyes. “Yeah, it’s not easy to see. He used to be go, go, go all the time and now he can’t get to the bathroom by himself. It’s too far to walk alone.”
“When do you go see him?”
“Every Thursday and Sunday.” His brow pinches. “I should go more. He’s so alone in there. It’s not right. But with school and everything else, I just—”
I reach across the table to touch his fingers with mine. They’re warm and rough. The feeling sends a shiver down my spine. “I’ll start going every Friday and Wednesday. Between the two of us, we’ll be there so often he’ll get sick of visitors.”
“No one could ever be sick of seeing you.”
“Tell it to Devo,” I joke, dropping the name to remind him to stay in his lane. “I’m pretty sure there are days he could go without my shit.”
“That’s because Devo doesn’t need you like I do.”
Fucking Josh.
Quick and easy, he drifts into my lane, invading my space. My heart. My mind.
“You don’t need me, Josh,” I argue adamantly. “You just want me because you can’t have me.”
His hand reaches for me, devouring my fingers until his palm rests heavy over mine. “I wanted you before I even knew Devo was alive. Then he swoops in and takes you away, and I’ve missed you ever since. Every single day for the last three years, I’ve missed you like a beat was missing from my heart. Like my body and my mind weren’t right because you were gone. Do you know how that feels, Harlow?”
Yes. I do, because I missed him too. I miss him even now, sitting in front of him, holding his hand. I probably miss him more like this than I do when he’s gone because this is acutely painful. It’s touching the sun and the stars and the moon; all the magic in the universe. It’s feeling so much, so many things, and not understanding any of them.
“I’m with Devo,” I remind him carefully.
“You’re with him, but you want me.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“It was one kiss, Josh,” I snap impatiently, mustering all the bluster I can to cover the warm yearning blossoming in my chest. In my blood. “It was a mistake. It was nothing.”
“I’m not talking about the kiss.”
There it is. The elephant in the room with us. The chocolate on my fingers and his hand in my hair and his body gliding over mine as I gasped for air, stealing it from his lungs as I kissed him for dear life. I can’t get away from it, can’t outrun it, and I sure as shit can’t forget it. Every second I’m with Josh, I remember it more vividly.
“And if it was nothing,” he asks gently, “then why are you holding my hand so tight right now?”
I’m clinging to him. My fingers ache from the effort.
I pull my hand slowly from his. I feel his skin leave mine. Every inch, I feel like a knife cutting across my heart.
“I have to go,” I tell him, unable to look at him. I scoot out of the booth to stand on weak knees. “I have to get ready for work and you… you have a party to go to, right?”
“Yeah.” His voice is thick, full of everything I can’t hear.
“Have fun.”
“I’ll see you later.”
I nod, turning away. Hurrying out of the bar. Out of his reach.
Chapter Fourteen
Josh
“You can’t go to a college party looking like that.”
Raw glances down at his clothes with a frown. “What are you talking about?”
“The jacket, for one,” I tell him, pointing to his leather with the Devil’s Due logo blazing across the back. “The gun on your belt is another problem.”
“I have a concealed carry license.”
“Cool. Doesn’t matter. You can’t bring a gun to this party.”
“You got a problem with the knife in my boot too?”
“Nope. Can’t see it, don’t care.”
Raw looks at me for a prolonged moment before turning to the mirror in the cramped bedroom. It’s the same one I woke up in this morning. He’s got clothes stashed here in the small closet, but we’re having trouble finding the right sort of clothes for him to wear to this party. Everything he has is black and white with the club all over.
“What if you go just the jeans and the T-shirt?” I suggest. “It’s got a classic Outsiders kind of vibe to it.”
“A what kind of vibe?”
“Outsiders. It’s a book. It’s good. You’d like it.”
“Is it gay?”
“What?” I laugh, shaking my head. “No, man. It’s about greasers in a gang. Nineteen-fifties shit.”
“Yeah, I don’t know about that. Why can’t I wear the jacket?”
“It’s intimidating. One of the reasons I do so well selling to the college crowd is because I’m in the college crowd. You’re barely older than I am. You could fit in as a student if you dressed down a little. Just jeans and a T-shirt, one that doesn’t say ‘Hi. I’m in a motorcycle gang. I’ll cut your ass if you cross me’.”
Raw smiles at me in the mirror. “Yeah, but I will cut a motherfucker if he crosses me.”
“I hope so. That’s what you’re getting paid for, right? Our buyers will get to know that, but first you have to blend in. You have to win their trust like I did.”
He shrugs out of his jacket, muttering, “This is stupid.”
“This is college. It’s all stupid.”
Raw goes to the closet to hang up his jacket. He’s careful with it, handling it with respect like a soldier with a flag. He starts sifting through the hangers, digging deeper. He leaves me alone with silence and my thoughts, and those always drift to Harlow. It’s maddening to know she’s here. That she’s so close but so far, tucked away in some dark place with Devo doing God knows what. The thought of her with him hurts like a stab to my stomach, a slow death that takes its time torturing me. It’s an old familiar feeling, the same one I dealt with every night in the first month after she left with him. Eventually I learned to push it aside, but ever since that kiss, it’s back with a vengeance.
“How old is your daughter?” I ask Raw, making conversation to distract myself.
“Three,” he replies, his voice muffled inside the closet.
“Is that school age?”
I really have no damn idea about kids. Are three-year-olds potty trained? Are they eating solid foods? Do they pay taxes?
“Kinda. She’s in preschool right now. It’s her second year.”
“She’s repeating preschool?”
“She’s not talking yet.”
“Oh,” I reply, feeling stupid. “Is she supposed to be?”
“Doctor’s think so,” he grunts, coming out of the closet with a black hoodie in hand. He pushes his arms into it before shoving the sleeves up to his elbows. “She should have been using, like, twenty words or more when she turned two, but she’s three now and she doesn’t use any.”
“Is she…do they know if she can hear?”
“She’s had her hearing checked. She’s not deaf. She’s autistic.”
And I’ve stepped even farther out of my realm of understanding.
I shake my head helplessly, admitting, “I don’t know anything about autism.”
Raw shrugs, unconcerned.
“It’s different for everyone. Are we ready to go? Does this pass inspection?”
His tattoos are showing, but he’s not going to be the only guy on campus with tattoos. Hell, I’ve got a few. I know a lot of the guys playing sports have them too. Raw’s are bigger, full sleeves, and there’s the matter of the word FUCK written across his knuckles, but it shouldn’t be enough to scare people off.
“Yeah, looks good,” I confirm.
He nods to me. “What about your face? Do people know what happened there or do we have a cover story for that?”
“My regular buyers know Bryan jumped me. I publicly outed him as a buyer to scare away anyone else who might be thinking of doing the same thing. But that’s all on the DL. If anyone at this party asks, I was in a car accident.”
“What if Bryan is there? You still want me to hold off on payback?”
I stand from the edge of the bed, trying not to wince. “I already got that covered.”
“How?”
“I killed him.”
Raw stares at me evenly. “For real?”
“Only on paper.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I hacked his information at the school and submitted all the right forms to have him declared legally dead. He probably won’t notice until winter term when he can’t register for classes or play football anymore because I killed him.”
Raw laughs, opening the door to lead me outside. “That’s vicious, man. I like it.”
Winslow House is a big, old Victorian just off campus. It’s named after the founders of the town, same as Winslow College. It was their home generation after generation for almost a hundred years. When the last in their line either died out or moved away, the house was handed over to the town. It probably should have been turned into a museum but Opal didn’t have that kind of money lying around. In fact, it was desperate to make money, not hand it out, so the house was put up for rent. Now drunk college students piss in Mrs. Winslow’s prize rose bushes.
