by Finn, Emilia
Stepping away too soon, she takes down a mug of coffee and sips. “Want some? You got here pretty quick, so I bet you didn’t have any coffee yet.”
“Sure.” I turn my head only and watch that inch of skin between shorts and top. “Thanks. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love a coffee.”
“You still take it with milk?”
“Yeah. No sugar.”
“Perfect.” She thrusts her mug between us. “Here you go. It’s cool enough to chug.”
I place my wrench down and study her laughing blue eyes. “I don’t want yours. I’ll go in and get my own.”
“No, don’t go in there. Just have this one.”
“Bish won’t mind.” I turn to the door. “And if he does, he can suck a dick.”
“No.” Laughing, she jumps forward and grabs my sleeve. “You don’t wanna go in there. They’re doing it.”
“Doing… Ugh!” I slam my eyes shut. “It. They’re still doing it. Fuck.” I turn away from the door and accidentally bump into Laine. “I can’t even explain to you how conflicted I am about that relationship. I mean, Luc hooks up with Kari and heads explode. But now Jessie has an active sex life and no one says a thing. What the fuck is that?”
“They didn’t say anything, because he’s scary. And don’t forget he’s a thug.” She steps closer and whispers, “I think he’s killed people.”
I know he’s killed people.
But most surprising, she actually sounds impressed.
“It’s weird that she’s hooking up with a thug,” I argue. “Why isn’t Luc here slamming heads against walls?”
“Because he’s busy at his place doing it with Kari. Here.” Snickering, she pulls my hands up and wraps my palms around her coffee mug. “Just take mine. Enjoy it. I made an extra big mug because I knew you were coming. We can share.”
“You don’t mind?” I take another step away from the door. God forbid I hear Jessie have sex inside the house. “Are you sure?”
“You got herpes?”
I frown. “No. But thanks for checking.”
She laughs and steps away. “We’re good. We can share.” She stops under the hood, picks up my wrench, and grins. “Just like old times.”
“Like old times…” I sit on the step and breathe in the aroma of coffee. “Alrighty. Geez, I don’t remember the last time I enjoyed coffee I didn’t make myself.”
Small biceps flex as she works rusted nuts loose. “Jess treats me like a baby, so I hardly have to do anything around here. She makes my lunch; almost always cheese and ham sandwiches. She serves me dinner; whatever Kane brings home.” Laughing, she shakes her head. “That poor guy has no clue what he’s gotten himself into.”
“Well. Thanks.” I take a sip and try not to be weird about the fact the mug is half full. She already drank half. I’m sharing a mug her lips already caressed. “It’s good.”
“Welcome. Did you get everything you need for Wanda?”
“Wanda?” My brows pull close. “Oh, the car. Yup, I think so. Just gotta put the time in now.”
“So…” Her bare foot slides along the back of the opposite calf, like a nervous shuffle. “Before my freak out the other day, I mentioned wanting this car…”
“You don’t want it anymore?”
“Oh, yeah, I totally think I do. I’m just making sure you remember. I’m making sure my breakdown didn’t nullify my statement. I want it so bad, I’m considering pulling all-nighters to finish it up, then I’ll drive her into the sunset when you’re not watching.”
God, I hope not.
“I won’t sell it out from under you. Don’t worry. You get first dibs, and a discount, considering the work you’re doing.”
She snorts. “I’m pulling it apart. That’s the easy part; any toddler can smash a puzzle apart, but I gotta get it back together again, and I guarantee, I’ll have spare bits leftover that I really shouldn’t.”
I savor my coffee and close my eyes.
Tiny sleep shorts. Bent over a classic car. A smile on her lips.
Kill me now.
“I’ll help you.”
“Yeah?” I open my eyes to find her studying her work with a grin. “I was counting on it. So when we get to the sunset thing, I’m gonna need you to turn around and count to ten.”
No.
“What was that thing you wanted to talk about? You said on the phone you wanted to ask me something.”
“Oh… yeah.” And just like that, her smile dims. “So, I had a bad dream, right? I told you that.”
“Yeah.” I sip and pretend my heart isn’t racing. I don’t dare ask for details of the dream. I don’t want to know, and I don’t want her to relive it.
“Right, so I woke up and went to the bathroom to wash my face. Since… everything that happened, I’ve had somewhat of a fear of men.”
Somewhat. “Uh-huh.”
“And guns. I mean, I wasn’t a gun enthusiast before, but I wasn’t scared either. They were just something I never experienced until I did.”
What the fuck kind of experience does she have with guns?
Like she can read my thoughts – or more accurately, my blazing eyes – she shakes her head. “I really, really don’t want to talk about it. But, an hour ago, I woke from this dream, and I wanted to vomit. I ran to the bathroom and washed my face with cold water, and when I closed my eyes, I saw your face.”
“Mine?” I set the coffee down and stand. “No. Don’t do that, Laine. Don’t put me there. Don’t compare me.”
“No.” She rests a hand on my forearm when I get too close. To hold me near? To keep me back? “No. I’ve been struggling with that, too. A few days ago, I was terrified of doing exactly that. I didn’t want to vilify you, so I stayed away. I didn’t want you anywhere near me while I’m in this…” She blows out a frustrated grunt. “This space. This really volatile mental situation. I’m not who I used to be anymore, Ang. I used to be wild and silly, and I could laugh everything off. Now I’m three more crying jags away from admitting myself into a mental hospital somewhere far away. I’m not the fun girl anymore. I’m walking a thin wire, so it’s easier to push everyone away, rather than take them down with me. But an hour ago when my hands were shaking and Graham was in my head, I thought of you. I thought of that time at Infernos Club when you…” She looks up with flaming eyes. “You ran through fire, Ang. You ran through a fucking fire. You came to me, you got me out. You didn’t treat me like fine china. You held a gun, took care of business. You shot someone on the way out of that club.”
I swallow the bile in my throat. “I didn’t know you knew that. I didn’t think…” I didn’t think she saw.
She nods. “I saw. I was scared out of my head, because I didn’t know that version of you. You were always my friend. Dependable and safe, and somewhat exasperated with our shenanigans. But then you ran through a fucking fire.” She stops and presses a hand to her heaving chest. “You showed me what it’s like to be protected. You made me safe. You brandished that gun like you were born with it in your hand.”
I take a step closer and wait for her eyes. “I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”
“I didn’t know you owned a gun.”
“I didn’t, it was Bishop’s. We met that day when he tried to steal my car to get to Jess. I came along for the ride when he said some fuck had taken you. He said you were in danger, then he offered me a gun. I took it.”
“I didn’t know you knew how to shoot.”
I chuckle, but it’s humorless and full of dread. “I didn’t. He gave me a three second tutorial while we drove. Sig Saur, twenty bullets, double action trigger. Get the girls, run the fuck away.”
Her brows pull in so tight, they almost touch. “You used it like you’d been doing it your whole life.”
“There was no room for a learning curve, Laine. I had to get it done, get you, get the fuck out.”
There was no time for nerves. No time to overthink what was happening. There was just bad shit
going down, bullets flying, and fire crawling up her and Jess’ legs.
“Right.” Flushing a soft pink, she steps back when she remembers her hand and turns back to the car. “Do you still use guns? Have you still got the gun from that day?”
“The police took it later on, for evidence or whatever.”
She concentrates hard on a plastic hose that has absolutely no use in this car anymore. “You didn’t touch a gun again after that day?”
“Um…” Does she want me to say yes? Will that make her feel safer? “I don’t know what you want to hear right now.”
“The truth.” She looks up at me through long lashes. “Always the truth. I want to learn, Ang. I don’t want to hurt people, but thinking of you this morning made me feel safe. Thinking of you with that gun made me not sick anymore. I want to learn to defend myself.”
I draw in a long breath until my chest aches. “And learning to fight at the gym like Britt…”
“Is not at all what I mean. I don’t want to learn how to fight. If we’re close enough that I have to touch them, then I’m probably already dead. I don’t want to rely on my monsters getting close enough to touch before I can feel safe. I want something from far away. Something I can do before his hands are already around my throat and I freeze up.”
She puts these images in my head. Visions of a man’s hand around her delicate throat. Of her eyes bulging and tears glistening on her cheeks.
“I could probably ask Kane,” she begins. “He’ll do, but I–”
“No.” Fuck no! “I can take you.” Jesus. Let’s just give her a gun and pray she doesn’t hurt herself. “You don’t have one yet, do you?”
“No, but they’re hidden everywhere in this house. Nothing wakes a girl faster than when she’s making a cup of coffee and she grabs a gun instead of a spoon.”
Fuckin’, Bish. “I’ll talk to him about that.”
She grins. “He also has one in the bread bin.”
“Alright, I’ll–”
“Another taped under the dining table.”
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now?”
“There’s one taped to the side of the toilet.”
“Fuck me.”
She snorts. “There’s one under the step just over there. And then there’s the one he keeps on his bedside table that he pointed at me an hour ago.”
“He what?!”
“And about six hundred others. You should talk to him about it; I think he has more guns than we have shoes. Me and Jess. And probably Jules, too.”
“That’s a lot of shoes.”
She nods seriously. “I think he has a shopping problem. I wonder if he has credit card debt?” She bites her lip in thought. “Do gangster gun sellers take credit cards?”
“No.” I roll my eyes. “You walk up to a gangster with a credit card and you’ll be in trouble.”
She snickers. “The old me would’ve. I was fearless.”
“And your fearlessness often scared the shit out of me. Now you’re asking to visit Spence, I’ll probably get shot, and then I won’t be able to drive my car for ages.”
“Or your bike. Don’t forget about that.”
I look up and glare. It’s pathetic. We’ve already established I’m a pussy that can’t get mad at her. “I’ll take you. I can make the arrangements whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m ready today.” She continues to nibble on her bottom lip. “Can you do it today? I’m really ready to be less scared.”
“Alright.” I take a deep breath and kiss my life goodbye. I’ll probably die today, and she won’t even know that I love her.
Awesome.
I dig into my pants pocket and pull out my cell. “I’ll make a call.”
“Who’s Spence?”
I look up from the screen. “Huh?”
“You said I’m asking to visit Spence.”
“Oh, he’s the guy I’d ask to teach you how to shoot. He’s Kane’s friend.”
Nodding, worry overtakes her features.
“What?”
Her eyes meet mine. “Is he scary?”
“Yeah.” I hit dial and bring the cell to my ear. It’s five o’clock in the morning, but I don’t much care. “He’s kinda scary. He’s ex-military, perhaps ex-con. Fucked if I know what else he is, but he’s the guy we’d talk to, and Kane vouches for him.”
“You’ve met him?”
“Yeah.” He held a set of serrated scissors for me the way a nurse might hold a doctor’s instruments mid-surgery. “He’s cool. I promise.”
“You won’t leave me, right?”
For the first time in a long time, I reach out and take her hand. “Not for a single second. I promise.”
16
Laine
The Queen Always Wins
“Hold the fuck up, Riggs! Slow your roll, motherfucker.”
I thought Kane was big and scary, but this dude – camo pants, guns strapped to his hips and thighs, and bulging biceps stretching his shirt – has to be at least seven feet tall.
Seven whole sandwiches tall!
“Nuh-uh. No way.” He lifts a hand and points back to the door. “You come in here with her, you bring a fuckin’ war to my place. My loyalties ain’t with you, Goldilocks. Bish know you’re running with his girl? ‘Cause if he doesn’t, it’s kinda my responsibility to represent.”
He pulls the gun from his thigh and aims it right at Ang’s chest.
“Oh, shit.” Stunned, I cry out and work to push Ang away from danger, but he simply loops his fingers with mine and holds me still.
And smiles.
“You’re fucking smiling?” I slam my fist into his ribs. “You’re smiling at the Hulk with a gun?”
“Relax. Spence, cool your shit. And don’t call me Riggs.”
“Get her out of here, then go stand in front of Bish’s gun.” His dark eyes come to me. “I’m disappointed in you, little girl. I thought you were cool, but you jump bros? What the fuck is it with chicks jumping bros? It’s a damn epidemic.”
“Umm…”
“Spence! Put your fuckin’ gun down,” Ang growls. “It was funny, now it’s not. This isn’t Jess. This is Laine.”
“You change your name, girl? Because Bish will still find you.”
“Twins!” Ang drags me forward and pushes the gun aside. He pushes the gun aside! “Spence, you already met Jess. Jess is Bish’s girl. This is Laine, her twin sister. This one’s mine.”
His?
Spence lifts a scarred brow. “Yours?”
“Well, I mean…” He clears his throat. “I meant my friend. Laine, my friend. This is Spence. Spence, this is Laine. Don’t touch her.”
The man stops mid step and grins. “You’re twins?”
I’m fucking shaking. “Yes, sir. Identical.”
Circling us, circling me, he re-holsters that gun and scratches his jaw. “You sure are. Fuck me sideways and call me Betsy Ballbuster, there’re two of ‘em?”
“Kane isn’t coping so well,” Ang laughs. “He’s got two in his house now.”
“Both?” Spence’s brow lifts. “So you’re still Bish’s girl?” He reaches for his thigh again.
“No!” Ang turns with Spence’s circling, continually putting himself between me and this man. “Kane only gets one, he only wants the one. He’s just confused by the fact there’s two of them. I grew up with them.”
“You grew up with Jess?” He says her name like they’re friends from way back. Who the hell is my sister associating with? “You grew up with two mini blondes that look exactly the same?”
“Yeah, then Kane turns up and snatches one away from us. Next thing we know, she can handle guns and is on first name basis with thugs.”
This man – scary beyond comprehension, but handsome in a way my terrified mind struggles to process – flashes a boyish grin and stops circling. “That’s my boy; teaches his girl to look after herself. I didn’t expect anything less.”
“Right. Now Laine wants to lea
rn.”
“Yeah?” He studies me, from my black sneakered feet, up jeaned legs, to my hoodie covered torso.
Ang watches Spence before he glances back at me, notices my shaking hands, and tucks me behind his back. “Actually, can we talk a sec?”
“My office?”
“Yeah.” Ang turns and takes my hands. “Can you wait here for a sec? I promise I’ll be quick–”
“No.” I step in, pushing away the thoughts that tap on my memory. “You promised.” My lips quiver. “You promised you wouldn’t go.”
“Just for a minute. Not even a whole minute. You’re safe out here.” He turns to Spence. “Anyone else here?”
“Nope. It’s six fuckin’ thirty in the morning. Who else is stupid enough to be at a gun range at this hour?”
“See?” Ang turns back to me. “No one else is here. I’ll just be over–”
He turns to point at a door, an office door, but I step back and hold my stomach. The sickness is back. “No. You promised.” When my eyes itch, his shoulders droop. “I’m just gonna go home. Forget I mentioned anything.”
“No.” He snags my hand when I turn away. “Don’t leave.”
“I changed my mind. I don’t want this anymore. I want to go home.”
“No.” He twines his fingers with mine and closes his eyes to think. “Spence. No office.” Ang turns to face the man watching me have a breakdown. “I’m not leaving her. I promised.”
“Suits me.” Spence folds his arms and watches me closely. “Speak, Riggs.”
“Yeah.” He blows out a heavy breath. “Exactly that. You remember that thing we did. That movie we watched?”
“Mm.”
“Yeah.” His eyes flick between Spence’s and mine. He’s trying to talk in code. He’s trying to talk about me. “Just don’t touch her, okay? We’re here to learn, she wants me. Teach us, but don’t touch.”
“Oh…” He studies me a moment too long. “Oh! Okay. I’ve gotcha, playa. I got just the thing.”
True to his word, Ang doesn’t leave my side once. Spence shows us through his complex, and the entire time we move and discuss guns, Ang’s hand remains wrapped around mine.
