Loving Me, Trusting You (20 page)

“Then we're safe as long as the military doesn't descend with nukes.” I reach for a cigarette I started earlier and left in the ashtray nearby. I put it between my lips and inhale. Amy laughs at my joke which I don't think is funny at all and then throws me a sweet smile.

“You're absolutely gorgeous, you know that?” she says, and I raise a dark brow, taking in her petite perfection and her soft curves. So this is the kind of woman that Austin was after all along. Nice. The polar opposite of me. Where I'm dark, she's pale and light, where I'm gruff, she's polite.
Fantástico
.

“I'd thank you for the compliment, but then I'd remember you stole my boyfriend and I'd have to get pissed off. I don't really want to deal with that right now if you don't mind. Why don't you go back inside and watch Lifetime or something?” Amy laughs again and the sound doesn't echo like mine. It's light, like bells, and simply peals away into the silent evening.
Bitch.

“I didn't come out here to talk about Austin,” she says and my lip curls as I pull out the cigarette and toss it into the pool. Amy looks at it aghast, but clears her throat and says nothing.

“Gaine then,” I say, figuring that must be it. She saw us fucking, and I'm sure she figured out what we were doing in the bathroom. Plus, I know she sees the way he looks at me. “The last thing I need right now is for you to throw your two cents in. He still loves me. Fine. I get it. But I don't want to love him. That's all there is to it.” Amy's smile grows a little wider and then she's glancing over her shoulder and checking to see if she can spot her bodyguard. Beck is visible now inside the glass doors, flirting with one of the night staff. I roll my eyes.

“That's not it either,” she says as she reaches down and unbuttons her top. Underneath, she's got on a swimsuit. It's the color of honey and half as sweet. This thing looks like it was designed in the early fifties or something. It covers
everything.
Amy takes off her pajama top and lays it aside, standing up and dropping her pants to the cement. “I just wanted to come down here and make sure you were alright.”

“Yeah, so that's why you wore your grandmother's swimsuit under your pajamas, right? To check in on me?” Amy laughs again and sweeps her hair up on top of her head, twisting it into a bun and snapping a hair tie from around her wrist onto it to keep it still.

“This,” she says, pausing to gesture at the beige jumpsuit she's got on. “Is most certainly not my gram's swimsuit. It's far too scandalous, don't you know?” Amy points to the curve of the suit on her upper thigh. “Gram's was much more conservative. Went straight down to her knees.” With a wink and a nod, Amy launches herself into the cold water and disappears in a perfect swan dive. I watch her move beneath the water for a moment, and don't even bother to look up when boots appear beside me. Beck is an idiot, but he's good at what he does.

“Are you two skinny dippin'?” he asks, squinting into the darkness and trying to catch a glimpse of Amy. I put my cigarette out on the toe of his boot, and he doesn't even notice. He's too focused on trying to catch some free tail. Wish I was that single-minded. Must be nice being Beck Evans.

“Only in your wildest fucking dreams,” I tell him as Amy surfaces with a gasp and treads the water with a smile on her face.

“Everything alright?” she asks him as he tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and grins.

“Be even better if you two lovely ladies were to put on a show for me.” Amy laughs, but I don't. Beck might seem funny at first, but after a couple of years, he just gets annoying.

“That desk clerk is leaning over the counter,” I tell him and he moves back, so Amy can swim forward and lean her arms on the cement edge near my feet. “Her ass is in a prime viewing location. Go away and do what you do best.” Beck pats me on the head and laughs again. He's always fucking laughing. Must be nice.

“She's more colorful than a leprechaun's ass burstin' with rainbows,” he says and Amy snorts.

“What?”

“He thinks she's gay because she's not interested in him. Beck always thinks that.” I start to stand up, irritated that my quiet slice of space has been ruined and pause when Amy's hand touches my foot.

“I mean, who wouldn't want a little cut of this beefcake?” he asks, and then laughs at his own joke. See what I mean? Sometimes, I think it's a front for something darker, but I guess I'll never know. I don't have the time or leisure to delve into Beck Evans and his many intricacies. “Only reasonable explanation is that she prefers titties. Can't say that I blame her.” Beck shrugs and, satisfied that he's not missing any nudity, moves away again. As soon as he's out of earshot, Amy grabs my attention.

“You know, I brought a book with me, one of my favorites. I think you might like it. I'd be happy to let you borrow it if you want to read it.” Before I can object, she forges on, leaning out of the water, eyes sparkling. Reading is obviously her thing, but it isn't mine. I don't want to get lost in somebody else's story. I'm already having enough trouble trying to navigate my own. “There's a character that kind of reminds me of you. Sali Bend, I think you could relate.”

“Bonding with fictional characters isn't my thing, but thanks for thinking of me.”

“The only good lie is one that sticks. Otherwise, it's just all bullshit.” I give her a narrow eyed look, and she smiles. “A Sali Bend quote that I happen to think fits.” Amy reaches up and hauls herself out of the water, plopping down next to me with a splat. “We all need an escape every now and again, an opportunity to lose ourselves, if only for the moment. I look at you sometimes and I can't help but think of my mother.” Her face falls, but the expression doesn't last. It hits rock bottom and bounces right back, leaving her with a bittersweet smile.

“A preacher's wife?” I ask her as I straighten my legs out and let my feet hit the water with a splash. The coolness washes over me, bringing a sigh to my lips. I bite it back, refusing to show Amy anything but my harshest side. I think about that damn video again, and I wonder how much it played a part in my fate. What would've happened if I hadn't sent it? I glance over at her and can't help the feeling that somehow, things would've ended up the same. I don't necessarily believe in fate, but sometimes shit is just meant to be. I roll my eyes at my own inner thoughts and Amy smiles wider.

“A person who thinks she should be one way, but might be happier if she let herself be another.”

“And what makes you the ultimate, fucking authority?” I growl at her, scooting back, feeling my chest tighten with anger. This bitch is going to come down here, disturb the one freaking peaceful moment I've had in a long while, and then psychoanalyze me? Nuh uh. Not happening. “Listen here,
sweetheart.
You don't know me, so don't act like you're a freaking expert all of a sudden. I don't need your advice, and I sure as hell didn't ask for it.” I lean in close, but Amy doesn't flinch. She sits stone still and listens to my rant without the slightest hint of fear or anger in her blue eyes. “You don't know where I've been or where I come from or what's going on in my head.” Amy nods which surprises me into a brief second of silence.

“No, I don't. You're right. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't make judgments like that.” She pauses and reaches out a hand, placing her fingers on the back of mine. “But if you want to tell me, I'm here. You can say whatever you want, about anything you want, and I'll listen. I'm actually quite good at that.” She pauses again and this time, swallows nervously. “Even if it's about Austin, you can talk about it.” Amy stares at me with such a warm expression in her eyes that I don't know what to do or how to handle it. I don't have female friends. I just don't. And I definitely don't have heart to hearts either.

I stand up suddenly, my lace nightie billowing in the wind around my ankles, and open my mouth to speak.

I find that in reality, there's absolutely nothing that I can say.

I leave Amy at the pool with Beck and march up to my room, rapping my knuckles gently against the door and waiting for the sound of movement inside.

“It's me,” I say before Gaine gets the chance to ask. I let my fingers rest against the wood and try not to think too hard about the erratic thumping in my chest. Obviously, he's having an effect on me, maybe he always has and I just never noticed. I guess I might've taken him for granted all this time. I try to think back on my weakest moments, the moments where I needed someone the most. Did I run to Austin? Only for the little things. When it came down to it, when it really counted, it was Gaine I was spilling my soul to.

I step back and swallow my resolve, letting it slide down my throat like a dry lump. I'm cutting him off. Period. If I keep playing this game with him, things will change, and I'm not sure I'm ready for that.

“You have a nice swim?” he asks me, and there's no hint of anything in his voice but mild interest. I look up and find that he's not smiling, not gazing at me with affection. Guess he listened when I told him to back off. It's what I wanted, so I try to be happy about it, try to pretend that I don't feel anything in the air when I slip past him and move into the room.

Christy's asleep on top of the bed, curled up into a ball. This journey is going to tax every last ounce of strength from her. I hope she's willing to pay for it with all she's got.

I check the clock on the nightstand and decide that I don't have time to shower. Austin and Kimmi should be back soon and then we'll be moving out again, hopefully to someplace free of conflict. I run my hands down my face and breathe in the sharp scent of chlorine. I know I'm wishing for something that'll never happen. I might have made peace with my needs, but that doesn't mean Bested by Crows will go away or that this … war on women will stop. I can only hope it doesn't get bigger than this. I mean, I get that there's an antiquated consensus among some gangs about women being pledged members, and I've dealt with my fair share of half-assed insults and bullying, but I've never seen it get so serious. Bested is going to turn this into an all out war if we're not careful.

I move over to my suitcase and let my mind wander.

“Is it alright if I step out for a bit?” Gaine asks, surprising me. I turn my head and glance at him over my shoulder. He's staring at me with a carefully blank expression now, like there's a lot he could or would say if he had the chance. I don't give him one.

“Yeah, fine with me.” I pause, mouth open, and think about saying something else. But there is nothing to say. The best thing for me to do right now is to keep my distance from him. “But be careful, alright? The air might be settled, but it'll only take a gust of wind to stir it all up again.” Gaine nods and moves away, reaching for the door handle without another word. It doesn't feel right to let him go, but I don't have much of a choice. I have no control over him or what he does.

The door closes and cuts us off from one another, leaving me alone with whirling thoughts and curiosity that I can't satisfy. Where Gaine is going and what he does right now is none of my damn business.

I get dressed quickly and close up my bag, tossing it next to the door in anticipation of leaving early in the morning. There is no way in hell I could sleep right now.

When Amy gets back, slipping inside with her key card, I'm sitting on the bed contemplating my next move. Obviously, I'm the start to all this, so I have to be the one to finish it, too. Murdering those fucks would obviously be the easiest route, but I won't let myself go there. If I'm going to keep any part of myself, I have to make sure that I stick to what's going to work for me. Meaning I don't get to keep Gaine, meaning Will and Mack aren't going to die by my hands. I sigh and close my eyes, leaning back on the bed and listening to the swish of fabric as Amy changes her clothes.

When something lands softly near my head, I open my eyes and see that Amy's tossed me her book. It's wrinkled and smells like coffee where it's been stained over the years.

“What the fuck is this?” I ask her as I lean up on my elbows and throw her my worst possible death glare. Christy startles awake then and stares stupidly at the two of us, moving her gaze slowly around the room like she isn't sure where she is.

“Give it a try and see. You never know what you might discover when you walk around with eyes wide open.”

“Is this another book quote?” I growl at her, snatching the novel and flipping open to a random page. I can't even tell you how long it's been since I read a book. I don't even
want
to know. My guess would be in the
years.
I have vague memories of holing up in my grandmother's closet and sneaking peeks at her murder mystery novels, but those have been virtually railroaded by all the other shit I've done in my life. I wonder what would happen if I took it up again, what sorts of things from my distant past would come alive.

“It might be,” Amy says coyly, moving over to her friend and sitting down on the bed next to her. She takes her hand in hers and smiles. “Did you sleep alright?” she asks and Christy nods.

“Better,” she says, voice throaty and scratchy from sleep. “Gaine told me a story about a badger that got into his high school gym.” She smiles, and I have to hold back my lips before they follow suite.
That asshole.
“It actually helped put me to sleep.”