“Hey,” I holler, “I need you and Kipper to come with me to make a drop off at the theater later.”
He’s gone, but I know he heard me.
I’m not a fearful man, but I’m also not an idiot. I know better than to go to the theater alone. This isn’t Redwood, and this isn’t my club. Aside from Blaze, there are three other men who get a cut of the profits to keep this place going. I’m the new guy, the new guy who comes from money, so I need to watch myself until I know I can trust these birds. For all I know, they are throwing me to the wolves. The theater is an old abandoned building that was once used as a performing arts studio in the early nineties. Some of the UCLA alumni discovered it years ago, and for a while, it was used for parties. Now, it’s used for parties and Friday night fights.
I press my fingers to both sides of my temple, then grab my phone, giving the boss man a call.
“What's good?” he says into the phone.
“I’m heading to the theater in about an hour. Can you meet me? I need to talk to you about this lineup you’ve got in place.”
“I’m already here.”
I don’t even say goodbye. I just end the call. I grab the pen and stick it between my teeth, biting down, while I try and focus on the fights, but my mind wanders to her. Walking over to the bed, I hover and look at the spot where she slept. Her scent still lingers in this room. She’s had that same sweet smell since I met her ten years ago. The smell of homemade cookies, vanilla, and sweetness. Even three hundred miles away, she managed to carry the smell of her house with her. Dad’s house no longer has the home feel or scent; Mom took it with her when she left.
Still looking down at the bed that holds the shape of her body in the memory foam mattress, I pull the pen out of my mouth, not even realizing that I bit the damn thing so hard that ink is running from it. I look down at my black fingers and rub them together, smearing the ink into my skin. This is what she does to me. She gets in my head, and her venom makes me do stupid shit. I wish I could erase what she’s done to me inside; I’ve tried, but like this ink, it just keeps spreading more and more. The next thing I know, my hands are covered.
“Dude, what the hell?” Kip appears out of nowhere, pulling me from the dark place in my head. I turn around quickly with my hands held out.
“Pen broke.”
“Uh yeah, I can see that.”
I walk by him to go to the bathroom and wash it off, but can’t help myself, as I run my fingers over his cheek.
“What the hell?” he gripes, but I keep walking.
I turn the sink on and let the water run over my hands and watch as the water runs black. No matter how hard I scrub, it doesn’t completely come off. No big deal, not like a little black stain ever hurt anyone. The stains can cover up the invisible scars—my troubled mind, my undeniable disregard for the word forgiveness, and, most importantly, my cold heart. It’s better to give them something to see, so they don’t search for what they can’t.
I turn off the water and grab the damp towel, the musky smell hitting my nose immediately. I toss it back down and pull open the top drawer, then the second, then the third, in search of a clean one to no avail. I shouldn’t be surprised; we have three guys living here with no one to clean up our shit. It looks like we need to work out some sort of cleaning schedule or bribe some chicks to do it for us. I vote for the latter.
I look in the mirror and rake my fingers through my dark hair, ruffling the tips, then pull open the door and head out to the living room.
The place is still a mess, but Knox is walking around with a trash bag picking up. “Make yourself useful,” he says, as he bends down and scoops up some plastic cups.
“Absolutely. I’d never expect you to do this all on your own.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and hit call after I scroll to my sister’s name.
She picks up immediately. “Hey.” Her voice is quiet, and she’s not her typical spunky self. I can tell something is wrong with just that one word.
“What’s wrong? Where are you?” I snap, immediately jumping to the worst possible conclusion. Some guy fucking broke her heart. I’ll kill him.
“I’m sleeping, dumbass. I’m with Celia at the dorm we are crashing at. I didn’t go to bed until four o’clock in the morning. You’d know that if you weren’t such a party pooper.”
“I’m no such thing.”
“You left your house in shambles and went to bed at eleven o’clock. You were the epitome of a party pooper.”
“I was tired,” I lie. The truth is, hell, I don’t even know what the truth is. I went into the bedroom to get Harper’s phone and keys that I put aside, so no one would steal them, being the upstanding gentleman that I am, and I saw a girl in my bed. I figured it was a little housewarming present from one of the guys. I thought she was awake and waiting for me. I didn’t know it was Harper until I crawled into bed. Didn’t even have to touch her or see her face, I just knew.
I laid there staring at the ceiling for three hours, just to make sure no one came in there and tried to take advantage of her. I might not like the girl, but I sure as hell don’t go for that shit, and I’d never let any man lay his hands on a passed-out girl. Then some chick came staggering through the unlocked door, my bad. She thought it was the bathroom. Next thing I know she’s stripping her clothes off and doing a little dance.
The girl could barely stand up, so I had the great idea of letting her into the bed with us. It was fucking perfect seeing Harper’s expression when she woke up. Nothing happened, but she doesn’t need to know that. She was more than willing, especially this morning, when I gave her a little tease, but the minute the curtains were drawn and the door closed, I kicked her out. She wasn’t my type.
“Well, I’m sticking around here until school starts up, and I wanna hang with my big brother while I’m around.”
“You don’t start school for two more weeks. Does Dad know you’re planning on being here that long?”
“Probably not, but he’ll figure it out.”
“What’s going on? Are you avoiding someone or something back in Redwood?”
“Do I need a reason to hang out with my friends? No,” she answers her own question, “I don’t. So please stop grilling me.” Her voice raises, as if she’s getting angry.
Something is going on. Marni hovers over Dad like a mother, making sure he eats healthy and takes care of himself, mentally and physically. It’s not like her to be away from home for this long. I decide to let it go for now, but I’ll get to the bottom of this.
“Come with us tonight. We’re tailgating at the big game. First one of the season and Jasper is starting.”
“It’s a plan.”
“So, I called because I have a question. Got any friends who wanna make some money?” I look over to Knox who snaps his head up with a stack of cups in his hands.
“My friends are not prostitutes, Axel.”
“I’m glad for that, because I don’t need to pay women for sex, they offer to pay me for it.”
“Ok, enough of that. I’d rather not hear about your sex life.”
“Seriously, though, I’ll pay $50 to the first chick to get her pretty ass over here and clean the house.”