Chapter Eleven
Jade
Black Magic is a bar in the heart of our crappy area. It’s crowded with people and sells cheap liquor like water. Everyone around me is drunk out of their minds, but I’m not. I ordered a drink, but I’m just staring at it, too stressed to actually drink.
Where’s Allie?
I still haven’t heard from her, which has sent my nerves through the roof. The bar will be closing in fifteen minutes, and still there’s no sign of her. A part of me wants to stop by the local police station and check to see if they picked her up, but I’m fairly confident that not only would that give away my involvement in things, but if Allie was in jail, her family would let me know.
So what could be keeping her?
I seriously don’t have a clue. Did something happen to her phone? Is she just being careful not to communicate between us, just in case?
A million scenarios keep running through my head, and the anxiety is making me miserable. So, when they shout for last call, I drain my drink, then order two more and slam them. If Allie doesn’t show up tonight, then something had to have gone wrong. And I’ll have to live with the fact that it was all my fault. That I put her in danger because of my obsession with getting my lamp back.
Time ticks away. They turn on the lights and tell us to leave. I trek out into the chilly air in my new, completely wasted, sexy outfit. Rubbing my arms to warm myself up, I watch my air puff out in front of me, feeling like the lowest piece of crap ever.
Then my phone buzzes.
Pulling my phone out, I feel a wave of relief to see it’s Allie. Clicking on the message, I read:
I’m sorry.
Frowning, I type back. Sorry for what? Are you okay?
A minute later, a message pops up.
I want a new life. A better life. I needed everything.
A tremble wracks my body. What are you talking about?
No answer comes for a painfully long time, then:
I took the lamp too. I packed my things. I left. I’m starting over. I’m going to become what we always dreamed about.
Tears blur the words, and I respond, hands shaking. No, Allie, don’t do this. Please. The lamp belongs to me. My father left it for me. You know how much it means.
Her response is quick and short. I know. I’m sorry. Goodbye.
For ten minutes I send text after text, tears racing down my cheeks and blurring my vision. But no matter how much I beg and plead, she doesn’t respond.
At last, I stagger against the wall outside the club, clutching my phone to my heart. I would’ve preferred she shot me, because it damn well feels like she did. My heart aches so badly I swear it’s torn right open.
Allie betrayed me.
Allie stole my lamp.
She took away all my hopes and dreams, because she’s a selfish prick. The other things she stole would’ve been more than enough to set herself up for a long time. She didn’t need my lamp, but she wanted it more than she wanted my friendship.
I start walking down the road, tears splattering the pavement as I walk. When I reach Allie’s building, I race up the stairs and knock lightly on the door, knowing her brother will be up.
A minute later, I hear all the chains and locks come undone. Her eighteen-year-old brother stares at me, his eyes red, smoke drifting out the door.
“I need to see Allie.”
He takes a long time to answer, swaying slightly. “She packed up her shit and left. Sorry, I figured she’d have told you. I mean, you’re her best friend.”
My hands curl into fists. “I was her best friend.”
When I turn around, his voice stops me. “I don’t know what she did to you, Jade, but it was only a matter of time. I love my sister, but girls like Allie can’t be anything but users. She was never the kind of friend you thought she was.”
I look back at him, and his gaze is oddly focused as he stares back at me. “She was family. My only real family.”
He doesn’t look away from me. “You’re too good for her and this place. Why the hell haven’t you gotten out?”
I stiffen, shocked. “I needed…something.”
“You were going to get your GED. You were going to go to college and get your business degree. What happened?”
My hands curl and uncurl as I fight my tears. “You don’t get it!”
He couldn’t understand. Not the fact that I had to leave home at sixteen and give up on finishing college to clean houses, under the table, just so I could leave my aunt’s house full of filth, drugs, and strange men. Here he is, a small-time drug dealer who still lives with his parents.
“I get it,” he says. “But I thought out of everyone in high school, you’d be the one to actually achieve your dreams.”
My throat feels tight. “I could’ve, but she took…she took…”
I can’t even bring myself to say the words. She took my hopes. She took my dreams. She took everything.
He gives a strange smile. “My sister’s a damn good thief, but she can’t take anything from you that you really need to escape this place.”
I realize, somewhere through my hurt and panic, that he’s trying to be nice. So I force a smile, and chide myself for my mean thoughts about him. “I appreciate you saying that, JD.”
He looks behind him at his apartment. “Get some sleep, Jade.”
“Thanks.” I turn and hear the door close behind me.
Walking past the broken elevator, I move down the stairs and find a homeless guy asleep on the stairs. I only hesitate a moment before I notice that it’s just Stargazer Stan. I’m not keen to wake him, but I’m not going to get attacked if I do. Stepping over him carefully, I keep on down the stairs and head out into the chill of the night.
I don’t know what the hell to do with myself. My thoughts are spinning. My heart aches. I need someone to talk to.
Pulling my phone back out of my pocket, the black business card with neat letters comes floating down. I lean down and pull it off the sidewalk, staring at Evan’s number. Normally when I’m in a panic, I’d call Allie. Who could I call now? My thoughts run through all the people I knew that would be up at this time, and who I knew well enough to unload this mess onto them.
Not a single name comes to mind.
I pick up Evan’s number really slowly. It has his name, job title, and phone number underneath.
Are you really going to call the cute guy from the auction house? He’s going to think you’re crazy.
My hand shakes, but I’m already dialing. Hating that he’s been nicer to me than any person I could remember in a long time.
I almost end my call when his tired voice comes over the line. “Hello?”
“I—uh.” Suddenly, I realize I don’t know what the hell to say.
“Jade?” He sounds surprised.
“You got all that from I uh?” I ask, the words tumbling out of my lips.
I can hear the smile in his voice. “Well, I was waiting for your call…”
Biting my lip, I look at the lamp light, feeling even more confused and lost. “Sorry, I know it’s late. I shouldn’t have called. I just…” My throat feels tight. “I didn’t have anyone else to call. But this is dumb. You don’t even know me.”
“Where are you?” he asks.
I frown. “The corner of 5th and Washington.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen.”
I’m about to tell him not to come when the line goes silent. Hanging up the phone, I lean against the corner of Allie’s apartment building, feeling stupid. A couple of ladies in short skirts walk past me.
“Night, Allie,” Sheila says.
I force a smile back. “Night, ladies.”
“Always so polite,” Tiffany says with a girlish laugh.
Time ticks away. I tell myself to walk away over and over again, but every time I take a few paces, then return to my spot. Evan is on his way. I can’t just walk away now. But what must he think of me? Probably that I’m trouble, and more work than I’m worth.
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So when a sleek-looking sports car pulls up a little while later and the window unrolls, I’m surprised to see Evan looking worried. “Get in.”
I comply, opening the door and sliding into the seat.
He immediately guns it. “You hungry?”
I shrug. I don’t feel like eating. I feel like crying. But I can’t exactly say that.
“You’ll feel better with some food in you.”
We drive for a while, until we reach the nicer area of town. Immediately I realize that he must have raced all the way to pick me up so quickly. He must have been really worried.
Soon he pulls into the parking lot of an all-night diner and kills the engine. Before I can process exactly what’s happening, he’s walked around the car and opened my door. Awkwardly, I take off my seatbelt and step out. He closes the door behind me, and I immediately wrap my arms around myself, curling a little against the chill.
He frowns as he looks down at me, then unzips his hoodie. Again, I have no idea what he’s doing until he pulls it off and sets it around my shoulders.
“You don’t have to do that,” I say, even though the sweater is unbelievably warm and smells delicious. Like him.
He brushes the hair back from my face. “You were cold.”
“There’s something wrong with you,” I say.
He chuckles, and the sound is pleasant. “Why do you say that?”
“Because…you’re nicer than anyone I’ve ever met.”
His humor vanishes. “That just means you’ve met too many assholes.”
Putting an arm around my waist, he leads me into the diner. The waitress tells us to pick any spot we want in the almost-dead diner. We walk past the bar area, where one tired-looking trucker sits with a big cup of coffee. He steers me to the very back, to a big booth, and scoots in right next to me as we sit.
“What would you like?” he asks.
I shrug. Nothing sounds good. Nothing but crawling into bed and forgetting the nightmare that’s my life now.
When the waitress comes, he orders for both of us, but I don’t listen to what he gets. I just look out at the cold night, wondering where Allie is. Wondering where my lamp is. And a fresh wave of anger rises inside of me. How could my best friend do this to me?
“So, tell me what happened?”
My head snaps to Evan. “You don’t want to know.”
“If I didn’t, would I be here? Would I have asked?” There’s an unexpected intensity in his voice, and his dark blue eyes seem to hold a wealth of emotion.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
“I wouldn’t.” And there’s no room for argument. “Now, talk to me.”
“It’s stupid,” I say, and the words hold tears.
“Nothing is—“ he’s cut off as the waitress sets down steaming cups of hot chocolate in front of both of us. He waits to continue until she leaves. “Nothing is stupid, now talk to me.”
I argue with myself about the stupidity of telling him anything, but I find myself talking to him anyway.. “There was this lamp. It was handed down through the generations in my family until it came to my father.” The lamp and my father. Old memories rush up. “We used to play with it, even though I know it was worth a lot. My dad would build me these ‘castles’ out of blankets in my bedroom. I’d rub the lamp, and he’d act like my genie. He’d say he was at my command, and I’d ask him to do all kinds of silly things. And he would. My serious, powerful father would bark like a dog, or fly around like a bird, all to make me laugh.”
“That sounds nice,” Evan says.
“It was…magic,” I say, and my voice sounds different, almost nostalgic. “He kept the lamp in his room, but he’d let me take it out to play pretend on the estate grounds. I have so many memories with it. At tea parties. On adventures through the ‘jungle.’” I take a ragged breath. “It was even at my parents’ wedding, and at my birth. There, in the background of the pictures of my mom before she died. It was like this…thing…that was always there.”
“I’m sorry about your mom.” And his sorry doesn’t sound like the typical one said to be polite, it sounds like he really feels bad.
“It’s okay,” I tell him, but I don’t sound okay. “I was young when she died. It was my father who was harder to lose…” For a horrifying second, I think I’m about to start crying. Then I catch myself, forcing the emotions down. “When he sent me here, I knew something was wrong, but I thought he would follow me. I didn’t know what happened to him for years. And that was horrible.”
“What happened?”
I remember the moment I found out, staring at the library microfilm, feeling like the world was melting around me. “There was a mention that he was found dead in his boss’s estate the day he sent me away. They said it was accidental, but I knew different. Not when I was little, but by the time I found out he was dead, I’d put together the pieces of what happened. His boss’s brother poisoned the man to gain his wealth, and my father knew the truth. When he sent me away, he did it to keep me safe. And he really thought I’d be okay…”
Evan reaches over and places a hand over mine on my thigh. “I’m so sorry, Jade.”
I blink away tears, shaking my head. “It was a long time ago. I’m over it.”
“Can you really be over losing someone you love?”
“You have to be,” I answer, without hesitation. “Real life is always there, just around the corner, waiting to crush you if you get distracted. There’s no room for crying over ghosts.”
“Hell,” Evan mutters, running his hand through his dark brown hair. “That’s just…bullshit, Jade. It doesn’t even sound like you really had a chance to mourn him. How the hell do you think you can move on from something you haven’t even been able to properly process?”
I pull my hand from him, maybe because he’s a jerk, maybe because he’s hit too close to home. “I’m not here to talk about him.”
He raises a brow. “Okay, then what are you talking about?”
“The lamp,” I say, emphasizing the words. “It was stolen from me when I got to this country. I finally found it. I was so close to getting it back, and my friend screwed me. She took it and ran.”
His gaze gentles. “You lost your only connection to your dad.”
Again, I feel irrationally angry. “No, it was worth a lot. My father wanted me to sell it and have a good life here.”
“So…you want it to sell it?” His tone is hard to read.
“Yes,” I say, even though something inside of me seems to think that isn’t true.
“Are you sure that’s what you really want? Because it sounds like you need it more than money.”
My laugh is unkind. “Clearly you don’t understand just how rough my situation is.”
He opens his mouth, when the waitress comes, unloading a tray of food covered in breakfast foods. Eggs, bacon, toast, hashbrowns smothered in cheese, and pancakes.
“Oh my god, this looks amazing!” I say.
Evan chuckles. “I’m glad I chose right.”
I’m still feeling off, but somehow better since I talked to Evan. Even if he doesn’t completely understand why I’m so upset.
For a little while, we scarf our food in silence and drink our hot chocolate. Anyone listening to us would think we were having the best sex of our life though, because apparently Evan enjoys good food as much as I do. In fact, his appetite is strangely appealing. As is the fact that he doesn’t seem to care that I’m not screaming, no carbs, no fat. Hell, my stomach might actual growl the word carbs sometimes when I’m hungry, so this guy needs to get used to it if we’re going to hang out.
I stiffen. Am I really already planning to hang out with this guy again?
Strangely, I think of Owen and his damned brother Emmett. I can definitely do worse than this sweet guy who picks me up in the middle of the night and feeds me.
When I groan and let my fork clink onto the plate, Evan is staring at me in a thoughtful way.
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�What?” I ask, trying not to sound defensive.
You ate your weight in bacon too, dude, so don’t give me any crap about it.
“I was thinking about your stolen lamp.”
The food I’d just shoveled down my throat shifts uncomfortably in my stomach. “Yeah.”
“If your friend is the least bit intelligent, she’s going to try to auction off an antique to get the most amount of money possible.”
I frown. “I think it’d be a little too easy if it showed up at yours.”
He laughs. “Well, yeah, but I keep tabs on the whole antique community. If your lamp comes up somewhere, I bet I can find it.”
I sit up. Is he serious? “I think I love you.”
His eyes almost sparkle with pleasure. “If we can verify it’s yours, I might even be able to help you get it back.”
Acting without thinking, I scoot closer and kiss him full on the lips.
He doesn’t move for a second, and then his lips soften beneath my touch.
I jerk back. “Sorry!”
He touches his lips, one brow raised. “Not a problem at all, Jade.”
My cheeks feel hot. “I just can’t believe I might still have a chance to get it back!”
Evan grows quiet.
“What?” I ask, realizing I’m starting to figure out when something’s off with him.
He opens his mouth, but hesitates.
“Just spit it out!” I say, suddenly worried he found a flaw in our little plan.
“I wanted to…well…I lost my parents too.”
Every muscle in my body stiffens. “Oh, Evan…”
He waves my words off. “I just wanted to say that the idea of money helping to ease our hurt over losing them doesn’t work, so I don’t want you thinking it will. Some things we just have to deal with the right way, by taking the time to process.”
I want to spring out of the damned booth. “I already told you. I’m fine. My parents…are dead. It’s fine. I’m over it.”
“Because people who say they’re fine a lot usually are…”
“Evan.” His name is sharp. “It’s all about the lamp. Don’t make it into anything more.”
There’s doubt in his eyes, but he says, “Okay.”
Worthy Page 5
