The Space Before (The Space Between Heartbeats #0.5)

by Melissa Pearl

  Mom swallows, looking more than guilty. That is at least a little satisfying.

  "You've been lying to me this whole time. You don't have the right to tell me how to live when you guys were screwing in high school and not even smart enough to use protection."

  "That's enough, Dale." Dad points at me.

  "Yeah, whatever. You're such a hypocrite. Always talking as if you're holier than everybody else, but you're just as human as me. You don't care that I'm lost right now. You don't care that I can't figure out what I want or how I'm supposed to survive this life. All you care about is how it will look to your parishioners. What will they say about my kid? Will it tarnish my reputation? You know what, Dad? I don't give a shit about your reputation!"

  Dad's lips pinch together, his skin mottling with angry hues of red.

  "I don't even care about your God. I don't want to know Him. Because all God means to me is rules. Rules and regulations. You talk about how you're praying for me, but what are you saying? Are you asking God to fix me so I'll fall into line and be a good boy for a change? Because you should be asking God to help you love me just as I am."

  Where the hell did that come from?

  The shocked silence in the room is nearly deafening. I haul in some air and point at them.

  "All I've ever felt from you guys is disappointment, anger that you couldn't pull me into line and make me something I'm not. I love Rae, but I don't want to be like her, and if that's what it takes to be loved by your God, then screw it. I'll go to hell instead, because at least I'll be with people who actually think I'm cool."

  I don't wait for a response. I collect my bag and walk out the door before my parents can even think what to say. The ash in my chest sits heavy, trying to suffocate me. I don't know where I want to go, but I find myself walking to Toby's place. I might crash there for a few days, in spite of the stale salami smell.

  I try to run over my epic speech to Mom and Dad again, but I can't remember everything I said. For some reason, I feel like crying; not just little tears, but big, fat, hot ones. I want to curl into a ball and weep, but I have no idea why. I grip the handle of my bag and pick up my pace, wanting to get as far away from my parents as I can, ignoring the small part of me that wants to run back, wrap my arms around my mother and cry against her shoulder like a little kid.

  Chapter Nine

  Toby doesn't ask any questions when I turn up on his doorstep, which suits me just fine. We lounge around in his living room until his mom splits for work at nine-thirty, and then we're out the door. We pick up Luis on the way and head over to Milo's place.

  I didn't even know there was a party planned, but when we get there, the door is wide open and people are crowding every downstairs room. I hunt the floor for Carly, although I don't know why. It's not like I'm in the mood for it right now, but maybe it will make me feel better.

  I scan the gyrating crowd in the cleared-out dining room and wave at a couple of familiar faces...then my eyes land on Jasmine. Why does she have to be here tonight?

  Her eyes pop wide when she spots me, and she dips her head. Dwight is standing in front of her, his big hands on her little hips. Hips I had caressed only hours ago. I can still feel her smooth skin. I bunch my fingers into a fist and breathe out my nose, turning from the sight of Jasmine snuggling into Dwight's broad chest.

  "What was that all about?"

  I jerk at the sound of Carly's terse question.

  "What?" I mumble, annoyed that she's been watching over my shoulder.

  "Who is that girl?" Carly points at the dance floor.

  "No one." I try to grab Carly's hand and pull her out of the room. Maybe I can distract her in one of the bedrooms. She yanks her hand free.

  "She's not ‘no one’—I just saw her face. Is something going on between you two?"

  "No." I sound immature and pissy, but at least I'm telling the truth. Jasmine made it very clear that today was just sex and nothing more.

  Carly crosses her arms, her expression pretty dark. Her long finger taps on her elbow, her left hip sticks out, and she looks like a sexy school teacher. I take one look at that raised eyebrow of hers and shake my head.

  "Forget it." I wave my hand and start weaving my way out of the room. I so can't be bothered with this right now.

  Toby's at the front door, leaning against the entrance wall, trying to chat up some short chick with an obnoxious giggle. "Let's get out of here, man."

  Toby glares at me, flicking his head to tell me he's busy.

  I get it. I do.

  But I'm in a foul mood and instead of walking away quietly like I usually would, I decide to be a total prick.

  "You know he's only fifteen, right?" I point my thumb at him.

  "What?" The girl steps away. "You said you were eighteen."

  "I didn't...you didn't specifically ask my age." Toby’s wide forehead wrinkles.

  Her no-nonsense expression makes me laugh.

  "You implied it, you little asshole. Go home to Mommy."

  The girl pushes past us while Toby lands a sharp jab at my shoulder. "You're a dick, Finnigan."

  I rub my aching shoulder with a chuckle. "Sorry, man, but she was too old for you."

  "Whatever, Cougar Hunter. Carly's like twenty."

  "Eighteen, actually. How old was she?" I point behind me.

  "I don't know." Toby shrugs. "College."

  I hiss. "Sorry, dude."

  "Whatever," Toby mumbles. "Let's just get the hell out of here."

  Deciding to ditch Luis, we saunter outside, away from the noise. We head down the path and make a left. The night air is crisp and refreshing compared to the stuffy, smoke-filled party.

  Toby lights a cigarette and doesn't even offer me one. I guess I deserve that. I don't really know what to say to him. I'm not usually so horrible. He probably could have had a chance with that girl if I hadn't ruined it.

  I'm tempted to apologize again, but for some reason, the words will not form in my mouth. Instead, I slap his shoulder. "I've got an idea."

  Toby blows a mouthful of smoke into my face. I brush it away with a dry expression, but totally let him have it. I have some making up to do.

  "I get it. You're pissed. But I've got an idea. Trust me. It's good." I take off down the street, glancing over my shoulder to beckon him.

  He takes in another slow drag and trots after me. I check out street signs as I go, trying to remember where I saw the luscious car Milo and I hijacked that first time. Two turns later and I'm gazing at something even better. It's not the Corvette I was expecting, but this car is way cool. The sleek, golden ride with its square front looks well taken care of. It’s obviously been lovingly restored.

  "Is that a 1969 Dodge Charger?" I slap Toby's chest and feel my belly stir as I take in my friend's massive grin.

  "I don't know the year, man, but that is a beautiful Dodge Charger." Toby throws his cigarette on the ground and stamps it out. "That...that Dodge is begging to be driven."

  I nod. "Well, we shouldn't keep her waiting then."

  We grin at each other like two troublesome monkeys and sneak towards the golden beast. For reasons beyond me, Toby goes for the passenger's door. I was totally going to let him drive, but hey, I won't fight it if he's not interested. I slip out the long bobby pin tool Milo gave me a couple of weeks ago and decide to give it a try. The Slim Jim I would usually use is in my bag at Toby's place.

  It takes longer than normal, and Toby starts getting antsy on look-out duty. I wiggle the lock with a bit more force, nearly ready to quit. But then I hear that triumphant little pop, and I open the door with a grin.

  "Get in," I whisper.

  Toby scrambles in while I hotwire the engine. It rumbles to life way louder than I expected it to. Freaked the owner will pop out of the house to investigate I tear away from the curb and make it down the street in double-time. We lurch into the traffic, laughing our heads off, and speed towards the highway.

  Toby offers me a smoke soon after th
at, and we cruise along like kings, relaxed and arrogantly confident. We're gone for nearly an hour. I offer Toby a drive twice, but he seems happy in the passenger seat, his head tipped back, blowing streams of smoke into the car.

  I finish my second cigarette and throw it out the window, turning into the street we started at. I'm expecting to park the car exactly as I left it and run for Milo's place. What I don’t expect is flashing police lights and an irate man standing in the street.

  He turns at the sound of his Dodge, his eyes rounding with rage. Pointing at the car, he shouts a dozen curses while the police order me to pull over. I notice one of them place his hand on the holster of his weapon, and I crack. Shoving the car into reverse, I accelerate away from the scene.

  "What the hell are you doing?" Toby yells as I spin the car around and take off in the opposite direction.

  "You really want to go to jail?" I shout back, swerving into the traffic.

  "No!" Toby hangs on as I swerve around another corner, nearly losing control.

  The sirens are catching up to us as I accelerate through suburban streets. I'm hitting eighty as I speed through an intersection, nearly causing an accident.

  "Shit! Slow down, Finnigan!"

  I can't. I'm too pumped, too determined not to get busted. I hold the wheel with tight hands, trying to even out my breathing. It's not working. My insides are going nuts as I careen out of another street and nearly crash into a squad car. I pull on the wheel, and the car spins. Slamming on the brakes, I try to gain control and by some miracle end up missing the police car by less than an inch.

  It's on my tail in a microsecond, and I know it's pointless. I glance at Toby, all pale and scared beside me, and I know what I have to do. Pulling into the first dark alley I can find, I slam on the brakes.

  "Go, man,” I say.

  "What?" In spite of Toby's question, he's reaching for the door handle.

  "Run!" I push his shoulder and he's out the door, jumping the nearest fence as the squad car pulls into the alley behind me.

  I push my foot down hard and lurch forward, the engine rumbling an urgent song. We're nearly out the end of the alley. I'm about to turn onto the street and try for a useless attempt at freedom when a second police car pulls in front of me. I can either brake now or smash straight into it.

  I'm tempted not to brake, but my foot is obviously smarter than my brain. The car jerks to a pitiful stop, stalling as my foot comes off the clutch.

  “Step out of the vehicle with your hands in the air.” The instructions are yelled at me, but it takes a while for me to figure out what's being said. My mind is fighting off a numb fuzziness. Finally, I manage to open the door and get out of the vehicle with my hands raised.

  A gun is pointed at my chest as I drop to my knees and place my hands behind my head. The officer who cuffs me is anything but gentle. The feel of the metal tightening around my wrists makes my heart spasm.

  I'm hauled to my feet and led to the back of a police car. I don't know what's about to happen to me. Jail horror stories paralyze my brain. I don't even notice the city flash by as I'm driven to the police station.

  Chapter Ten

  The police take my fingerprints, mug shots and then shove me into an interview room to sweat it out. I have no idea what will happen to me. The room may not have bars, but it feels just like a jail cell. I'm still handcuffed. I don't know if I'm supposed to be, but I got a bit lippy with the officer on the way in. His evil glare spoke volumes, and I swear he smirked when he closed the door on me. There are a table and chair in the middle of the room, but I go for the corner.

  Slumping against the hard walls, I pull my hoodie over my head and rest my arms on my knees.

  For months that I've been walking a dangerous line, but I never thought I'd end up here. Part of me wants to fight for pride. This is going to make me a legend amongst the guys, but a bigger part of me, the part that will not shut up, is reminding me that only losers end up in jail.

  I stole a freaking car. What the hell was I thinking?

  The truth is, I haven't been thinking. I've been riding these waves of angry rebellion for nearly a year. Sure, I started out slow, but I knew where this was leading months ago. I was just too pissed off with my parents to acknowledge it.

  I grip my head in my hands, wanting to squeeze my brain out and erase the last few months of my life. Regret after regret piles high until I feel like I might be crushed beneath them.

  And then the door clicks open.

  I recognize his shoes and keep my head down. I don't want to see which expression Dad is wearing right now. It'll either make me mad or just break my heart even more. He walks into the room and pauses on the other side of the table. I notice he's holding a paper police bag...all the stuff they took from my pockets when they checked me in. Damn. Dad will have seen it all. A second pair of shoes stops just beside him.

  I look up with a frown and spot my brother-in-law, Julian. With a sigh, I tap my head against the back of the wall and close my eyes. He's not wearing a tie, his hair's all mussed up, and he's missing his standard briefcase. I don't know if he's here as a lawyer or support for my dad. Either way, I don't like it.

  I clench my jaw and keep my eyes shut tight.

  "I've tried my best, but the owner's determined to press charges. You'll have to appear in court in about six weeks. I'll let you know the date when it's confirmed." Julian's voice is calm and quiet.

  In contrast, my insides are going nuts. Court? Shit!

  Julian sighs. "I'll go with you."

  Relief makes me open my eyes and look at my brother-in-law. I wish I hadn't. His unimpressed glare makes me feel like a maggot. He shakes his head. "I don't know if you've done this before, but whatever you're into...stop. Stop now." He opens his mouth to keep going, but Dad grips his shoulder to silence him.

  "Thanks for coming down, Julz. Apologize to Rae for me. I didn't mean to make her worry, I just wanted a lawyer's opinion."

  "No problem, Charles. I'll call you in the morning."

  "Thanks."

  Julian gives me one final deadpan stare before leaving the room. I catch Dad's eye and swallow.

  I struggle to stand as an officer walks in and rids me of the cuffs. Keeping my head down, I shuffle out of the room. No one gives me a second glance as I leave the building. Dad doesn't say a word until we're nearly halfway home. Pulling off the main road, he glides to a stop on some random street and cuts the engine.

  "What are you doing?" I glance at him.

  Dad runs his hand over the wheel. "I can't say what I'm going to say and drive at the same time."

  My shoulders tense, and I shove my fists into the pockets of my hoodie.

  "I don't really know what I can say. I never...I never thought I'd be collecting my fifteen-year-old son from a police station." Dad’s voice is low and solemn.

  I look out the window and swallow.

  "I know you've been mad at us for a while now. I know we've been strict, and you probably feel as though we've been unfair or too hard on you."

  Biting my lip, I prepare myself for yet another lecture that will do no good. When is he going to understand that talking shit to me just does not work?

  "I'm sorry." Dad sighs.

  Wait, what?

  I turn to look at him.

  He gives me a glum smile and nods. "We should have told you the truth about Rae. We...it was a really hard time. Losing your mother for those ten years nearly killed me. We loved each other so much. We weren't trying to be bad...we just..." He shrugs. "We just couldn't keep our hands off each other. When she told me she was pregnant, my first feeling was joy...but then reality kicked in a second later, and everything fell apart."

  My heart is thrumming double-time. This is the first one hundred percent honest speech I've ever heard from my dad. The glossy veneer he usually coats his eloquent words with is missing. I can feel his raw emotion as he relives the past.

  "You know, they didn't even let us say goodbye to each o
ther; they just packed her in a car and drove north. They wouldn't tell me where she was. I lost her and the baby in an instant. I was devastated. But my dad packed my bags and sent me off to seminary. It's a miracle I found your mother ten years later, and we had to fight to be together then. I was being set up to marry the senior minister's daughter from the church I was pastoring at. She was perfect for me...according to everyone else. My family was livid when I brought Mary and Rae home and told them my intentions. I guess that's…” Dad’s mouth curves into a wobbly line as he blinks at tears. "I guess that's why we tried so hard with you kids. We love you. We—we wanted to protect you from facing that kind of pain. Being ridiculed and judged for everything you do is exhausting. One foot out of line and people were all over us."

  Dad grips the steering wheel. "Everyone expected us to fail, and we wanted to prove all of them wrong. Rae was so easy..." Dad's chuckle is dry. "But you...you just kept on fighting us. I didn't understand why until this afternoon when you let it all out." He sniffed. "It hurt, Dale. What you said hurt your mother and me deeply...and then to get that phone call from the police. I..." Dad sighs again, running a hand through his thinning hair. "I want to make things right for our family, but you have to play fair, too."

  I lick my bottom lip and sniff. "Don't send me away." My voice is so small and pathetic. I wanted it to come out strong and confident. I hate that I sound like a scared little mouse.

  "I don't want to, but..."

  I sigh.

  Dad lays his hand on my arm. "But this life you're leading has got to stop. No more partying with those friends of yours. No more...well, whatever you're getting up to." Dad looks suddenly awkward, and I figure he must have spotted the condoms in that damn police bag. "No more stealing cars." He sounds sick even saying the words.

  I've totally shamed him and for the first time in…well, maybe forever…I feel really bad about it.

  "Is this like my final warning or something?" I murmur.

  "Do you need me to make it that?" Dad's question is soft.

  I frown and look out the window.