by Tracey Ward
I don’t like this guy. I can’t put my finger on what it is, but from the second I saw him, I’ve had a bad feeling in my gut. It only gets worse as Raw goes to shake his hand again, handing off the little bag of blue pills.
Teddy grins as their palms meet. He has a mouth full of pearly white teeth, each of them perfectly in a row.
All but one – his front top tooth is chipped nearly in half.
Adrenaline floods my system, making my hands shake slightly.
“How’s Bryan?” I ask him clearly.
Teddy freezes, his hand still in Raw’s. He scowls at me angrily. “What do you care?”
“Just curious. He playing ball this year?”
“Fuck you.”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“Whatever,” he mutters angrily. “Thanks for the shit.”
Teddy releases Raw to turn on his heel, in a hurry to leave us behind.
Raw looks at me questioningly.
“That’s the other guy,” I tell him clearly so Teddy can hear me. “The one who robbed me with Bryan in September. I broke that tooth of his with the back of my head.”
Teddy quickens his step, nearly jogging away from us.
“Your beef, your call,” Raw reminds me severely.
I take my hand off the gun, flexing my fingers. My body is still a mess of bruises and agony at times from the beating Devo gave me, but my hands are solid. I didn’t raise them to defend myself because I deserved what I got from him. But what Teddy and Bryan did, that was some bullshit. Two against one is an unfair fight – a lesson Teddy’s about to learn.
I grin at Raw excitedly. “Let’s kick his ass.”
***
When I get home, my hands throbbing and my head screaming from a hit I took to the temple, Harlow isn’t there. I’m surprised but not worried. She said she had some errands to run after work. Maybe she’s at the bank or the grocery store. I assume she’ll be home soon.
But two hours later when she hasn’t showed and hasn’t called, I start to freak a little. I call her cell, but she doesn’t answer. I call The Three to see if she’s still there but Vanessa says she left hours ago. It’s starting to get dark and my worry is turning quickly to fear. It’s a move I wish I didn’t have to make, but when I’ve exhausted every other option, I do what I have to do – I call Devo.
“Yeah?” he answers brusquely.
“Hey, man. I’m looking for Harlow. Have you seen her?”
“Yeah.”
I wait for him to elaborate.
He doesn’t.
“When did you see her?” I push.
“Couple hours ago.”
“Where?”
“At the bar. Out back. She was crying over a keychain.”
“Fuck,” I whisper, my body deflating. “Did you talk to her?”
“Nope. Harley and I don’t really talk. You know?”
“Yeah. I know. But she’s not answering her phone and she hasn’t called.”
“Oh no,” he moans dully. “Call the cops.”
“I’m being serious, man.”
“Look, sometimes she disappears. It’s just what she does. She gets freaked out by something or she gets bored or who the hell knows, but she always comes back. You know that better than anybody, right? Sometimes it takes years and maybe she’ll be with another dude when you find her, but you’re patient. You’ll get her back, buddy. Don’t worry about it.”
“Good talkin’ to you, Devo,” I grind out through gritted teeth.
“Whatever, Strat.”
He hangs up on me before I can hang up on him. It’s a little thing but it still pisses me off.
As far as I can tell from what Devo and Vanessa told me, Devo was the last one to see Harlow. And when he saw her, she was crying. Crying over the keychain Pops and I gave her for her birthday.
Sounds like Pops’ death finally caught up to her. And she’s alone.
I’m more afraid now than I was before I talked to Devo because before I wondered if she was in trouble. Now I know she is.
I hurry out of the house, taking off at a jog through town heading north. I’ll go to The Three and make my way back into town from there, looking for her. Odds are I’ll find her in a diner staring into a cup of coffee the way she used to do when she was sixteen and couldn’t stand to be in her dad’s house. But when I pass the diner with its long strands of green and red Christmas lights strung across the floor to ceiling windows, she’s nowhere to be seen inside.
My anxiety goes from a nine straight up to an eleven.
It hurts to run. Not as much as it would have a week ago when Devo’s beating was fresh, but it’s still not great. My muscles are angry, reluctant, but my will is interminable. I swore my life to protecting Harlow when I was just a kid and I refuse to fail her now.
When I come up on the Opal Bridge, I slow to a walk, catching my breath. The Three is starting to glow in the dusk falling over the desert. I can hear music coming from inside its walls. Happy Hour is just beginning, the mill workers popping in for a drink before heading home to go to bed, to get up to go to work; the endless cycle of a wheel that keeps turning and grinding until they’re dead. Dust crushed into the earth. Sand soaring on the wind.
I put my hands on the rough cement wall that runs along the bridge, looking down into the dark waters rushing below. I stare into them, picturing Pops. Naked. Confused. Alone. What the fuck was he doing out here? He walked farther than I just jogged to get here, and for what? Why?
It’s a question that will never have an answer. The only person who could answer it is Pops, and whether I can stomach it or not, he’s gone.
I nearly collapse with relief when I spot Harlow on the bank along the river. She’s standing with her bare feet in the water up to her shins as it threatens to swipe her legs out from under her and take her away on its cold current.
“Harlow!” I shout down to her.
She doesn’t move.
I curse as I run to the end of the bridge before jumping over the barrier down into the brambles below. I have to tread through their thick vines like I’m swimming upstream, but finally I’m free. I’m on the slick, muddy bank that slides down into the water. It’s steep and treacherous, but I ride my feet and ass down it like I’m skiing on a slope that deposits me right behind her.
“Harlow!”
She turns to look at me this time. Her face is pale but her eyes are clear and bright, scrubbed to a startling shine by the tears that race down her flushed cheeks.
“Josh,” she whimpers.
I step into the water, holding out my hand to her. “Come here. Take my hand.”
“He’s gone. Pops is gone.”
“I know, baby. I know it. And I know it hurts, but we’re gonna be okay. We just have to come out of the water.”
I’m relieved when she holds out her hand to me, her fingers trembling violently. That water must be ice cold around her feet and only God knows how long she’s been standing in it.
Once her hand is in mine, I yank her back from the water. She falls against my chest, her body going slack as she sobs quietly. I run my hand up and down her back, my other hand caressing her hair gently as I coo in her ear over and over again, reassuring both of us:
“It’s okay. It’s okay.”
“I wanted to say goodbye,” she cries. “I never got to say goodbye.”
“I know.”
“I just wanted to be close to him again. One last time.”
“He’s not here, ‘Low. He’s gone.”
“He was alone.”
Tears sting my eyes, my throat closing tight. “I know,” I choke. “He deserved so much better than that.”
She hiccups, her fingers tangling in the front of my shirt. “I’m so sorry.”
“What would you be sorry for?”
“I wanted to be strong for you.”
“Fuck, Harlow, no,” I whisper in her ear, holding her tightly to me. I cradle her in my arms, press her to my chest, and sile
ntly beg her to stop shaking. “You don’t have to be strong for me, baby.”
“He-he was your grandpa and I didn’t—”
“He was ours,” I interrupt firmly. “He was our father, yours and mine. We both lost him and we should both mourn him, together.”
“I can’t… I just can’t…”
“Shhh. No. You don’t have to tell me how you feel because I already know. I feel it too.” I kiss the top of her head, breathing in the warm scent of her skin. “You’re not alone.”
She sobs in the back of her throat and I know I’ve hit a nerve. A big part of her fear. As much as Harlow has always been afraid to be loved, she’s wanted it more desperately than anything else in the world. She’s afraid to be alone. Afraid that her dad was right about her, that no one will ever be able to love her. But that man didn’t know shit. He didn’t understand the depths of my heart that beats only for her. Whether she was with him or me or Devo, I loved her, and that love will follow her through this world and the next. I’ll wrap her in it every night and wake her with it every morning for the rest of my life until she understands that it’s unfailing. Unfaltering.
Until she feels it in the breath in her body and the blood in her veins, always whispering, always promising, that she’ll never be alone.
Chapter Thirty-One
Harlow
Five Months Later
“That couch is so ugly.”
Josh snickers, glancing over his shoulder at the orange and green monstrosity in our living room. “It’s retro.”
“It’s disgusting.”
“It’s my favorite thing in this apartment.”
I laugh incredulously. “You say that about everything I hate!”
“And you hate a lot of shit, babe. I’m getting sick of saying it.”
“So stop saying it and get rid of that ugly ass couch.”
Josh stands up straight from the box he’s been rummaging through. He puts his hands on his hips, his chest stressing the fabric of his T-shirt. He’s been lifting a lot, hitting the gym with Raw and Skeeze almost every day, and it’s definitely paying off. My man looks good.
“It was Pops’ couch,” he tells me quietly. “It’s one of the only things I had in the house that I didn’t pawn. I want to keep it.”
My breath is stolen from my body, my heart seizing painfully.
“Well, fuck,” I whisper breathlessly. “I guess we’re keeping Pops’ ugly ass couch.”
In the five months since Pops died, we haven’t said his name much. We can’t. One of us always ends up crying. That first month after he died was the darkest. Initially, Josh was numb. Vacant. I was lost and devastated. Confused out of my mind. I’ve learned to live with the love I have for Josh in my heart every day, but that doesn’t mean I’m magically cured of all my issues. I still have trouble with large emotions, and losing Pops was one of the biggest I’ve ever had to handle. After the night Josh found me by the river, I let the hurt hit me full force. The only way to move past it was to push through it, and I only managed it with a lot of help from Josh and Angela.
We agreed that me living in the house next door to my dad was too much to handle with everything else going on, so Angela and Bear let Josh and I move into their basement until we figured out our living situation. Five months and one life insurance policy later, and we’re finally moving into our own apartment.
The policy wasn’t huge but it was enough to clear any debts left on Pops’ house. We thought about selling it, but when it came time to do it, we backed out. We couldn’t stand the thought of losing our childhood home. Instead, we rented it out to a couple of college kids, vowing that someday when my dad is dead and buried in an unmarked grave, we’ll go back to the house. We’ll fix it up, make it ours, and raise our children there. And we’ll raise them right.
With the rest of the money from the insurance, Josh bought an old Harley and a very expensive, very impressive computer ‘for school’. Considering he’s graduating in a month, I think it’s pretty safe to say he did not buy that thing for school. He bought it for his new favorite hobby – hacking. He told me what he did to Bryan Garrison and that he’s been working on a present to me for my birthday – he’s going to hack my dad’s pension at the mill. He’s going to drain it, leaving the son of bitch without a penny to retire on and us with a big fat savings account.
It’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.
The Harley we’re fixing up together, rebuilding it piece by busted piece. It’s rideable now but totally unreliable. A little scary sometimes.
I love it beyond reason. Almost as much as I love the man who rides it.
I drop the pillows in my arms back into their moving box. I have to step carefully around the stack of boxes between Josh and I to wrap my arms around his neck, snuggling my body in warmly against his. He smiles down at me, his arms going around my waist. His hands cupping my ass possessively.
“We can keep Pops’ couch,” I continue softly, “but we’re getting rid of the bath towels. They’re older than we are and I will not use them.”
His smile widens, his fingers gripping me tighter. “Are you gonna air dry instead? ‘Cause that’s definitely worth tossing the towels.”
“I’ll air dry once a week if you agree to get me new towels. Nice towels. Pretty, soft towels.”
“Harlow, if you’re going to walk around naked, you can have your pick of any towel at Target.”
I scowl, pinching the back of his neck sharply.
“Ow, fuck!” he laughs, swatting at my hand. “Fine. Walmart.”
I pinch him again. This time he pinches me back, on the ass.
“No!” I squeal, trying to squirm away.
His hold is too tight. I can’t leave him.
“Alright, alright, alright!” He shouts, grabbing my hips to still me. “I’ll take you to the JC Penny in Culver. Deal?”
I smile, nodding happily. “Deal. One question, though.”
“What?”
“How are we going to get the towels home on the bike?”
“How many towels are you planning on buying?”
“At least six.”
“Six?! There are only two of us in this apartment. What do we need with six towels?”
“I use two every time I shower. One for my hair, one for my body.”
“And I use one. By my count, that means we need three towels, tops.”
“What if they’re dirty?”
“Is that a real question?”
“We need spares.”
“That’s why we should keep the old ones as backups.”
“I’ll keep the old ones as shop towels but they’re never touching my body again, and if you don’t get me newer, nicer ones, neither will you.”
He smirks crookedly, running one hand up and down my back slowly. “You little gold digger.”
“You big cheapskate.”
“I didn’t have money for a long time. It’s hard to figure out what to do with it when you’ve got it.”
“You buy the essentials. Little things.” I hug him hard, shaking his body for emphasis. “Like towels.”
“Fine. Yes. You can have six towels. Ten if you want. I don’t really give a shit, baby.”
“Then why are you giving me such a hard time?”
He runs his thumb down my cheek, swimming in my eyes. “Because you’re so damn beautiful when you get bitchy.”
“Fuck you, asshole.”
“Yeah,” he mutters, his eyes falling closed. “That’s the shit right there.”
He kisses me lazily, drawing feeling out of me slowly the way he likes to do. It starts in my toes that curl into the carpet as his tongue sidles up against mine. Then it’s in my knees, weak and whispering. It courses through my core as it gains strength. It hums through my stomach. It blooms in my chest. Bubbles up into my throat and spills from my lips on a sigh of utter contentment I feel in my entire body.
“I love you,” I breathe against his mouth.
God, I wanna fuck him. Right here in the middle of the mess that’s our lives because it’s ours. His life and mine mingling together into one, the way it always should have been. The way it always will be. I want to ride him raw, no barriers between us. No control in my system. Just his body inside mine, planting life in me that will grow up with green eyes and brown hair, a silly smile and a home that’s warm. Loving. We’ll do right by it in all the ways that I was done wrong, and it will live its life knowing what Josh and I never did; that its mom and dad love each other desperately.
Josh pulls my shirt up over my head, tossing it aside. I’m naked underneath. No bra. Just me in his hot hands and my heart in my throat as he kisses me deeply. As my body weeps for him, begging for more. For all of him. Every thick, throbbing inch.
“Ahem,” Raw clears his throat pointedly behind us.
“Fuck!” I shout, pressing my body against Josh’s to hide my breasts. “What the fuck, Raw?!”
He chuckles. “You said to stop by anytime.”
“Knock first, you dick.”
“What the hell, man?” Josh asks irritably. “We were in the middle of something here.”
“Yeah, I see that. Finish if you want to. I’ll wait.”
Josh reaches down onto the ugly ass couch and grabs me a blanket. He drapes it over my shoulders to cover me.
“What’s up?” he demands.
Raw holds up his phone. The drug phone. “We got an order. Time to work, lover boy.”
“Alright, yeah. Let me get my shoes.”
“You want me to come over and watch Ava?” I ask Raw, searching for my top.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind. I won’t have to take her all the way to Angela’s.”
“You live five doors down the hall. It’s not a problem.”
“Maybe put some clothes on first.”
“No shit, dude,” I mutter, snatching my top up off the ground under the coffee table. I turn my back on Raw to drop the blanket and pull the blue cotton over my head. When I face him, I put my arms out to submit myself for inspection. “Good?”
