Find Me (Truthful Lies Trilogy - Book Two) (21 page)

“
Oh.” I know what he’s thinking. It clangs
between the line like cymbals falling to the ground:
Good for you, Blaze.
We must all move on.

“
Yes, and she even said I could crash at
her place if I don’t find a place of my own. But work is also
picking up, so that might not be necessary.”

“
I’m happy to hear it, Blaze. You always
had gumption, kiddo. You’re a real Good-Luck person, never forget
that.”

I try and believe what he says, but even if I
don’t, it makes me feel better.

“
OK
, Blaze. Don’t forget you owe me a visit.”

“I won’t.”

Deck starts calling Skate to hang with me for
the day but I tell him I might hang with Vikki and her Russian
Mafia bodyguards.

“The babe who offered to sleep with
Skate?”

“That’d be the one.”

He smiles a little. “Maybe I should call him
anyway.”

“You guys are full of shit.” We stare at each
other for a while. “OK, fine, lemme call her and check.”

Vikki has band practice, which means she
definitely wants to hang out with me, she says. But not Skate. Oh
no, Skate she will hang out with alone, in skimpy black underwear;
once she’s made him wait long enough.

After I put the phone down, Deck asks,
“And?”

“
And, um, I can’t relay my girlfriend’s
secrets to you!”

He jumps off the couch and lifts
me up by my ass, puts me
against the wall. He groans painfully. But before I can ask how his
ribs feel, he’s got his tongue in my mouth and...and...

What was I saying?

“
Should I drop you off at this Russian
Blonde Temptress’s place?”

“Sure.” He puts me down. “How are your
ribs?”

“Not broken, it seems. But it still
smarts.”

“And you’re gonna move things all day?”

“
Move things
around
.”

“Huh?”

He hesitates, and his eyes break contact
with mine. He turns and, with his back to me, says, “Uhm, yeah, we
got a sort of different deal for today. A
client...
ahem
...wants us
to move some furniture
around
her place.”

I get a quick pang of jealousy. And I know
it’s because he’s acting a little weird about this
“client.”

“Anyway, uhm, it’s good money, so, we took
it.”

I move toward him, wrap my arms around his
waist. “Cool. Well, don’t hurt yourself moving things
around
.”

He coughs, takes my hands from the front
of his waist, and walks to a corner and packs some clothes in a
bag. “Deck, what’s up?”

“
Noth—nothing. Why?”

Because you’re acting like I
just caught you in bed with someone
. “You...never mind. Just...you seem a little
off.”

He looks out the window, then walks to his
center table. “The client is just...a little forward, is all.”

“Forward?”

And then he explains it to me. The call,
the three tho
usand
dollars per hour for her “friends.”

Am I jealous? No. I trust Deck.

Am I worried? Completely. Because I don’t
trust
her
. And Deck
and I haven’t been together long enough for me to know how he
reacts around such people.

Zuzanna Osik was such a girl. High school.
Remember? She was the one who kissed
“The totally
coolest
guy in all of Greenpoint High, mamah!” She was big-titted
and seemed to always have drooping eyelids when talking to boys. As
well as a tongue that never stayed in its cage, always darting
around her lips.

It’s hard to imagine that I’d ever have
gotten it on with Eliasz Piscor (“The totally coolest guy”), but I
do know that Zuzanna never gave me a chance.
His cock got the better of him, I
guess.

Or maybe it was my experiences with Savva
that makes me worried. She was no slut, but she had everything that
boys liked—round breasts, meaty thighs. Confidence. I saw how boys
were around her. Even boys with girlfriends. If she’d ever decided
to go for one of them, I don’t believe their girlfriends would’ve
stood a chance.

Deck pulls me out of my reverie with two
firm hands on my arms. “Blaze, you have
nothing
to worry about. But you’re right to think this
woman’s out of line. It makes me nervous as well. Because women
like that
are
trouble. But
this is a job. A high-paying job. And it’s an opportunity to get a
business idea off the ground that I’ve had for some years.” And
then he tells me about that as well—the
Sexy Movers
.

This doesn’t do anything to soothe my
currently raging thoughts of insecurity.

“
So, I couldn’t turn it down.
I can’t...” He looks around.
“Hell, Blaze, it’s taken me three years to afford that TV,
the
SurroundBar
, my
new truck. And look where I live—corner of Bushwick, paying rent
which is too high. I don’t wanna be carrying Samsung TVs and IKEA
furniture all my life. I also wanna have that big place in Brooklyn
Heights—”

“The two million dollar condo?”

“
Last I heard, it’s four million
now.”

My mind boggles at the sheer amount of money
that is.

“I gotta start somewhere. Anyway, you’re
right, she’s...dangerous. Because maybe she wants more than just a
‘cheap look.’ And if she doesn’t get it...”

“Deck, you’re making me nervous.”

“
Look, I don’t know her from shit. Maybe
she’s a great person.”
Yeah, right.
“But I’m going in prepared. Trev and I have recording apps
on our phones. I’m gonna record our time there. Just in
case...”

“God! Deck! What are you talking about?”

“
Just a precaution, Blaze. If it’s as she
says, no harm. If it isn’t, if she
does
want something, and doesn’t get it, she might feel
offended. We might be the first guys who ever turn her down. And
maybe she won’t take lightly to that. Her husband’s a lawyer...” He
stops talking.

“
Thanks. Before,
I had a little irrational fear, now I have a large
and
justified
fear.”

“
It’s just a precaution. But, look, on my
side”
—he puts his hand
to his chest—“you got
nothing
to worry about. I’m not that kind of guy, Blaze. None of us
are—Trev, me, Skate. Skate’s a player, sure. All of us... Well, him
and Trev are at least—”

I poke him. “And you! That’s what you were
gonna say, right?” I’m laughing.

He chuckles as well. “Whatever. Point I’m
making is: we never cheated on a girl. None of us. Sure, we broke a
few hearts, but never cheated. That’s just not something we
do.”

Breaking up with the girl you’re
with and then hooking up with another an hour later is technically
not cheating.
I hug him.
Then I slide my hand over his crotch and rub a little. “And don’t
forget what you have at home.”

“Blaze, you can’t rub my cock and then send
me to a hot blonde’s house unsatisfied.”

At which point I slap his chest!

“Hey!”

“
Hot
blonde!?”

He cracks up laughing. “Blaze, please!” His
palms are pointed at his crotch. “I’m dyin’ here!”

I turn and sashay seductively into his room.
And I call him with my index finger into it. “Come on, tiger. Let
mama show you how it’s done.”

We don’t have a lot of time. And I’m a little
raw down below. I’m not used to this much stimulation on a regular
basis.

I take his pants off. Up above, we’re
kissing, slowly, tenderly.

I rub him, and feel him growing more and
more. His breathing gets ragged. He moans, “Ohhh, Blaze.” His eyes
squeeze tight. I pull up and rub down faster. “Oh, god.” His voice
is hard and manly.

He pushes against my arm, trying to get me on
my back. “I need to get inside you.”

And that opens the floodgates wide and wet
for me.

I don’t care how over-stimulated I’ve
been, because Deck can’t say shit like that and then send
me
to a hot blonde’s house
unsatisfied either! (Fine, the blonde I speak of is Viktoriya—but
I’ll take any excuse to get it on with Deck right now.)

He rips my jeans off, doesn’t waste a
breath on my cum-stained panties. I bite my lip as I see the throb
of his cock below, ready. A drop of pre-cum slides off it
and
—taking an
endless
time—falls gently over to my
belly button. When it hits, it feels like an anvil to my abs. They
tighten up, my stomach climbs up to my chest. I feel just about
ready to pop. My eyes shut tight and I spread my legs as wide as
they can go. Welcoming him, inviting him,
begging
him to get inside me.

And then he does.

Sex with Declan
rocks my world
. It’s passionate, primal. There’s biting
and kissing and grappling and
holding on for dear fucking life
. It’s like I just can’t get enough of
him. He can’t get deep enough inside me, and I can’t get far enough
around him. My legs go around his waist, my stomach curves up
against his own. Our arms interlock, I bite his ear. He thrusts, my
body bounces. There are sounds—oh,
endless
passionate groans and moans and the most
goddammed
sexiest
tunes
you’ve ever heard in your life. It’s animalistic, and it’s human.
There’s heat, sweat—
dripping
sweat.

But mostly, there’s
need
.

I’m so goddammed satisfied (and exhausted)
by the end of it that all I can do is hunt for oxygen. “Ready to go
see your ‘hot blonde’ now?”

“
You
are
my
hot blonde.”

I think of Xavier on our way to South
Williamsburg. Where is he? What is he doing? In all the times I’ve
known him,
he
disappeared plenty of times—as if living in the crevices
themselves. Then he’d resurface at a party, or at a club. He won’t
be at
Sacrament
this
weekend, because Randy was quite clear about Gavin the Boss not
letting Xavier anywhere near the place.

Is he angry? Afraid? Regretful?

Is he alive?

I might be accustomed to having Xavier
disappear for days and weeks on end; but not after cutting his head
with a mug. This is entirely new. Just as my relationship with Deck
is new. And discovering what a crazy past he has, is new. Having a
“girlfriend,” Viktoriya—one I think I could get to
really
like—is new.

It’s all new.

It’s not Xavier I’m afraid of, I realize.

It’s all the unknowns.

Deck kisses me warmly goodbye
after dropping me off, and then
drives away. To go see his “hot blonde.”

At the warehouse,
Vikki introduces me to the band. Four guys
and her. I make recordings of some of their songs on my phone so I
can go over them with her later. They have a good beat, and a high
BPM on much of their stuff. But the slower songs would also mix
well, because Vikki has this sharp, ragged,
singing-all-the-pain-in-the-world-away kind of voice.

It sits well with the House I like to mix.
Because it’s deep, and from that
real
place in you that few people ever get down to
reaching.

I slap on my headphones and listen to a
few tracks on Spotify that I think might mix into
Red
Lipstikk’s
beats as
well. I add them to a playlist.

I pull out my super-duper portable
iDJ 2 GO
from
ION
(a staggering twenty bucks on eBay) and plug it
into my
Algoriddim
djay
app on my
phone and start mixing cross-legged on the concrete floor, my back
to a brick wall. This forearm-length plastic controller amazes the
band so they take a time-out and I explain that it lets me mix on
the go. “Not so good for professional shows, but good enough to
practice anywhere, anytime.”

Vikki’s eyes are bulging as she looks at
the two virtual turntables on my iPhone’s screen and the two tiny
(and very real) turntables on the
iDJ 2 GO
controller it’s plugged into. I twist some knobs
on the controller and do a demo of the effects. “Theoretically, you
could do this stuff on the iPhone alone, without the physical
hardware controller, but it’s not so good for creating advanced
stuff. And the screen is too small.”

We get into a half hour discussion about
whether people could DJ on their iPads only
and whether or not this is the future of
live music. I humor them with some answers, because it always goes
this way when I pull out the controller. Although all I really
wanna do is mix the tunes right now.

Vikki tells the boys it’s time to get back to
practice, and no truer words could’ve been spoken.