Poughkeepsie (40 page)

Stupid piano. He wished he’d never gone back inside Livia’s house. But maybe it was better he knew how she really felt. He slid the mask back on even though there was little sunshine left now. His mind refused to stop blaring the worst parts of what he’d heard over and over again. “
Dad, Blake and I have only known each other for a few weeks. It’s a brand new thing. It might not even last.
”

Blake wondered why Livia hadn’t told him she studied psychology at her school in the city. But deep down, he knew. A glass-skinned, cardboard piano-lover had to be an amazing case study. A sure-fire way to make a name for yourself—or at the very least a professional challenge too tempting to resist
.
Had she been taking notes all along?
While I was counting smiles, was she proving her thesis?

Blake knew he needed to calm down. He needed to think. Over his shoulder he noticed a small car following him too slowly. He hopped a fence and let his inner tramp take over. He picked through backyards and driveways with about as much concern for human boundaries as a squirrel would have.

Blake bit his tongue.
Of course she’s not perfect. Of course she has ulterior motives. God, she was good at pretending.
The soulful gray eyes. The tender heart drawn on his back. He had to admit he would never have guessed. Stupid, trusting, loyal Blake.

Hasn’t life taught me well enough? Love is not mine to find. I’m a fool. Damn it to hell.

As his thoughts raced, Blake picked up his pace. Without realizing where he’d been going, Blake soon stood at the top of the stairs to the train platform. He shook his head at his stubborn, still-believing feet. While his brain was numb with pain, they’d brought him back to where it all began, as if that could somehow make things better.

Psychology. How could she not tell me?

The only reason he could fathom was deception. It was such a small piece of information, until it remained unspoken. Then it became everything.

“
It probably won’t even last…He scared me once…
”

Blake trotted down the steps and pulled off his mask. He’d have to return it to Mouse. He’d done fine without it before her. He just needed to go back to being what he was.

He stood in his shady spot, which was ironically the brightest place on the platform once the lights came on at night. Against his better judgment, he considered his possibilities
. I could be her guinea pig—let her try her best on me. She could strap me to a board in the sunlight in the center of town. At least maybe I could still kiss her. Maybe I could still touch the soft skin inside her elbow.

Blake knew Livia had given him more than pain, more than a mask. She’d given him worth—such soaring worth, he’d been wealthy with it. Even now he still had a little to draw from. He had enough not to make himself an experiment for her.

He dug in his jacket pocket and pulled out his heart-shaped stone. When he’d found it after she kissed him that first time, he’d taken it as a sign. Even his woods knew he was in love and had given him a present. He’d used a knife at Beckett’s place to scratch the B+L on its face.

Beckett had eyed him with suspicion as he worked. “A chick got you by the balls? Or is it a dude? You know I’m not a hater, baby.”

Blake had told Beckett all about her and the kiss.

“Good for fucking you,” Beckett said, pounding him on the back. “If I told you once, I told you a million times: you’re a handsome motherfucker. I’m almost gay for you.” Beckett pulled out a wad of cash. “Now, you go spoil that pussy.”

Blake waved his hands, rejecting the money. “No, Beckett, I’m telling you, I really think she might like
me
. Just me—the way I am.”

Blake rubbed his finger over the stone. Now it was testament to a broken dream. It was just a rock in the right shape, not a message from the universe. She
did
want him just the way he was: a diseased brain she could try to fix.

He set the rock down in his spot. He needed to give her something to tell her he knew. He knew it was over. Livia would find the rock when she came to the train station. She would know he’d been there, and that he was gone.

Maybe she’ll be proud I could walk away. Maybe she’ll know that’s a good thing.

He turned from the spot as the train pulled loudly into the station. Distracted by his thoughts and the roar of the train, Blake barely noticed the dazzling brightness that appeared for a moment in the sky. A second and third flash and accompanying rumble got Blake moving.
Rain must be on the way.
He trotted up the steps. There was one more thing he had to do. It would cleanse him. He had a new purpose now.

A short jog later, he peeled back the fence to the woods past Firefly Park. A little ways down his familiar trail, he stopped at the tree with the hole in its trunk and dug out a coffee can that kept a few things safe for him. By the time he got to the clearing, the moon was high enough so he could see.
This is good. I can say goodbye.

Livia had ruined this clearing for him. He could never again be here without picturing her hair fanned out around her. He’d never find peace here now. He’d always picture the love he’d seen in her eyes when she’d taken off his mask.

Thought,
he corrected himself. Thought
I’d seen in her eyes.
Blake felt the lump of wool in his pocket.
This very mask.

He would start with that. Blake pulled it out and clicked open the lighter he kept in the coffee can. The yarn took a while to catch and was mostly disappointing in its smoky smoldering.

He pulled out his piano.
No. It’s all I have,
his mind screamed.
But she’s in here. All the songs I wrote, all the hope I had. It’s all in here
, he argued back.

He tried to make his heart hard as he smoothed it out on his knee. He held the very top corner and clicked the lighter on the bottom. The cardboard went much faster than the wool. An angry red line preceded the flame, as if warning his beloved cardboard of its eminent death. Blake pictured Livia’s smile as the cardboard blackened and curled.

He tried to remember the feel of her hand when she’d shaken his. “
I’m Livia McHugh. It’s nice to meet you.
”

Smoke poured from the cardboard as he remembered his response. “
Blake Hartt. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.
” He’d said his name, but what he’d been thinking was:
She touched me. I am someone
.
I count.

Blake held the piano until the flames licked his fingers. Then he dropped the tiny, glowing piece, and it landed on top of the smoky pile of mask.

He felt no relief. He felt no closure. He knew then he would have to leave Poughkeepsie. He’d go very far away so he wouldn’t be tempted to come back. He looked down at the ash that had been his piano and missed it. He missed it already.

His sadness slowly solidified into anger as he scraped piles of leaves together with his feet and lit them with the lighter. He kept going until the center of his clearing had a floor of flames.

He watched the yellow and gold with tears forming in his eyes. The flames had a taste. They tasted like Livia never really loving him at all.

32

Trust No One

E
VE
L
ET
T
HE
M
OTORCYCLE
have its head. She felt her tears drying into itchy, salty tracks on her cheeks. This was everything she’d dreaded. She blew through a red light without even looking for oncoming cars, desperate to outrun her pain.

She felt a wave of disgust. She’d reacted the way she’d trained herself to do—Find something and destroy it. Feel something else, so pain won’t be the only thing inside—but blowing up the strip mall had not been gratifying. It hadn’t even been worth the trouble. And now she should want to find him and kill him, which she could easily do. But she couldn’t. Even if he’d used her and thrown her away. She sped by an empty parking lot. She couldn’t end someone she loved, even if she hated him.

Through her anger, something in Eve’s mind twitched.
An empty parking lot.
Where was she even headed?
An empty parking lot!

Eve whipped the motorcycle around in an intersection. She only registered the swerving cars to avoid them.
Fucking Merkin.

It all clicked together like a stack of Legos. Beckett would never have told Merkin to clear the lot before he fired her. Beckett didn’t believe in crying wolf, especially about the cops. And he’d never send Merkin to fire her. He knew she’d be likely to kill the messenger.
I’m so stupid. Damn it.

She’d let her worst fears cloud her vision. She hadn’t seen Merkin’s deception. Eve raced back to the strip mall, something guiding her to the fury she’d just left. She pulled in just in time to see Beckett blown backward by an explosion inside the blazing building.

Son of a bitch
. The motorcycle clattered to the ground on its side, and Eve sprinted to him as he pulled himself up and screamed her name. He looked at the wall of fire tensed like a runner on the starting blocks.

He thinks I’m in there.

The heat stung Eve’s skin and sirens wailed behind her as she reached Beckett and wrapped her hand around his throat, the most immediate means she could think of to stop him. He stiffened, then relaxed as she molded herself to his back and began pulling him away from the flames.

Irregular pops and explosions punctuated the ongoing blaze as the weapons inside the building discharged in the heat. But Beckett never flinched. She felt his throat vibrate as he sighed her name with relief. He tilted his head back until it rested on hers.

“Don’t ever die in my head again. Please, never again,” he told her, his voice raspy.

Eve continued to guide Beckett until they stepped backward over the firefighters’ hose and the air began to cool. When she released him, Beckett spun to face her. He didn’t smile until he met her eyes.

She pulled on his hand. “Come on, baby. We’ve got to get out of here.”

Beckett dropped her hand and grabbed her face, his big thumbs tracing her cheekbones.

“IS EVERYONE OUT? DO YOU KNOW WHO DID THIS?” he shouted at a volume too loud even for the fire-ravaged parking lot.

Eve realized then he couldn’t hear. She mouthed silently, “Everyone is out.” Then she pointed to the discarded rocket-propelled grenade launcher in the parking lot, back at her own chest, and finally at the mall.

“YOU BLEW THIS SHIT UP?” Beckett looked puzzled, then smiled.

She nodded.

“EVE, I LOVE YOU. I LOVE THE HELL OUT OF YOU. YOU’RE ONE CRAZY BITCH!” Beckett would not be pulled from the spot.

With the mall fire blazing high in the sky behind him and the emergency vehicles’ lights dancing across his face, he swept Eve into an I-just-got-off-the-boat-after-the-war-style dip kiss. Finally he set her on her feet and smacked her ass. He strolled over to the firemen and police officers.

“GENTLEMEN! THE BUILDING IS EMPTY. PLEASE STAY CLEAR AND LET IT BURN TO THE GROUND. THERE ARE DANGEROUS WEAPONS INSIDE.” He nodded when they gave him thumbs up.

Beckett waved away a paramedic who gestured toward a waiting ambulance, and Eve picked up her scratched motorcycle. Beckett threw himself into the seat of his Hummer, and they tore out of the parking lot.

They were a few miles away when Eve pulled ahead, then signaled him to pull over. Beckett parked alongside her on the shoulder. He stomped over to the motorcycle and stood in front of her with a huge, winning smile. She started speaking immediately. “Merkin’s a traitor. We have to find him—get everyone together. I don’t know what he’s up to. Can you hear me?”

“When your lips move, it makes me want to take my pants off right here.” Beckett went in for a kiss. He spoke loudly, but he wasn’t screaming anymore, which Eve took as a good sign.

Eve accepted the kiss and pulled his phone out of his pocket. She used the texting feature to type and then handed it to him:

Merkin told me u fired me. He cleared the lot. I blew up the mall
because I believed him. He’s up 2 something.

After a moment, Eve pulled his phone out of his hands as he began to shake and growl. She made him look at her.

“I’m sorry I believed him. I shouldn’t have believed him. I don’t believe him now.” Eve spoke slowly and watched as Beckett waved away her apology. He rubbed his hands over his face, turning away.

He didn’t hear his phone beep to announce an incoming text, so Eve clicked
open
and stared at the picture sent from Cole’s phone for several seconds before
what
she was seeing hit her completely. The message wasn’t from Cole.