Chapter 24
24
RUE
I glance at the romantic-looking couple next to the banquet table one last time before I slide into the passenger seat of Mason’s Dodge Charger.
I’m wrong. Malice is doing more than showing the world I’m a failure. He’s also telling the world that he isn’t interested in Loser Rue Lee. He is into sunny, happy Cassie.
How did we get into this mess in the first place? Oh, I know the reason. I put myself into this horrible situation by offering to Malice-sit the bad boy, which in turn caused one of the kids at school to say something god-awful. Then Malice declared I was Trace’s girlfriend to keep me safe, and bam, here we are. I lean my head back and close my eyes, wishing I could start over. But hindsight is twenty-twenty.
Or I could talk to Malice about my feelings and be open and vulnerable to having my heart ripped from my chest.
Mason taps my knee. “Hey, are you okay?”
I open my eyes. “Sure, why?”
“You normally greet me with a smart-ass comment.”
“I’m tired from party planning, that’s all.”
“From the looks of it, you did a great job, Spunk.”
Hard Knocks. Spunk. Regret. What’s with the nicknames? But Spunk beats Cockblocker.
“It was a team effort. Thank you for loaning us the lights.” I put my fist out. We fist bump. “How long do we have?” For our extracurricular activities. It’s been a while since we’ve patrolled. “How’s the crime rate?” Broken-into cars. Vandalism. Smashed-in windows on the bottom floor apartments.
“As long as you need. There’s been an uptick since you and I stopped patrolling. What are you packing?” Mason tips his head at the small black duffel bag at my feet.
“NVGs, two BB guns, and four canisters of pellets.”
“Just like in the old days. Nice.”
We drive past the turn that leads to the guesthouse Leigh is staying at and the driveway that dead-ends at her boyfriend’s parents’ house. After we pass the town center, Mason turns into an alleyway that separates a large, low-income housing apartment complex from the rear of the town center.
The businesses that line this side of the chain-link fence have their dumpsters as another barrier separating the apartments from their businesses.
Property crimes are high here, while police presence is non-existent unless something bloody and violent happens, such as shootings or murder. But property crimes are rarely followed up on, and so the people who live here gave up on reporting the crimes to the authorities.
That’s where Mason and I come in. I mentioned to him when I was fifteen how frustrated I was that a single mother who kept getting her car broken into felt so helpless to do anything that she paid hard-earned money for someone to keep an eye on her car, only to find out the same guy was the one doing the smash and grab for funsies.
Mason told me about his nightly patrols, and I was in, though it took convincing. First, he gave me lessons on shooting a BB gun from a distance. He had one rule. Never aim at the person’s head. Everything from the shoulders down was fair game.
Second, he taught me evasive maneuvers by having me tag along to play paintball with him and his old military buddies. Mason served in the Army before he moved to Delridge to be closer to his aging parents and single mom sister. His niece and nephew are the cutest kids. I babysit for Tessa when she goes on a date with whichever guy she’s matched with on the online dating sites.
Lastly, he taught me how to fight in case we’re separated and I’m cornered.
“Can I stay the night at your place and get dropped off at school in the morning?” I don’t want to be anywhere near Malice’s place when he takes Cassie up to his room for a nightcap after the party is over.
“How’s the situation panning out? Leigh spilled the details when we were loading the lights into her guy’s truck.”
I shrug. “It’s a job.”
“What about your boner for him? Doesn’t that complicate matters when you two are shacked up together?”
“He doesn’t feel the same, and I have lady parts, thank you very much.”
I expect him to forget my first sentence and laugh at the last one. Mason is quiet. I stare out the passenger-side window. Mason’s windows are so tinted that there’s not much to see except for lights in the distance.
“Are you sure about his feelings for you?”
“I watched him hold another girl in his arms. Watched him kiss the top of her head like she meant the world to him. What do you think? What I feel for him is the reason I want to spend time with you. I have burning, unanswered questions only an experienced guy in his early thirties can answer.”
“And here I thought you liked spending time with me.”
“I do. You’re the big brother I’m missing from my life.”
“I figured Isaac filled that void just fine.”
“Why do you believe he’s my brother?”
“The way he looks at you. You’re the most precious thing to him, Rue.”
“Pfftt. He treats me like a kid.”
“Of course he does. You will always be his little sis, no matter whether you’re eighteen or eighty.” Mason exits the alleyway and drives through the parking lot. “So, what earth-shattering questions do you have?”
He parks the blacked-out Charger next to the fire escape ladder at the tallest apartment building. The Charger blends in with the darkness. The streetlights aren’t working, as usual.
“Did you have a relationship when you were in high school?”
We slip on our ski masks and NVGs, grab our duffel bags, and exit the car.
“You mean like a high school sweetheart?”
“Yes. A girl you would spend the rest of your life with.”
“That’s a huge ask and responsibility to take on at such a young age, Rue.”
“People marry their high school sweethearts all the time.”
He waits to answer. We’re climbing the ladder to the rooftop, and it takes our concentration not to fall off the rickety steps. Thank goodness for our NVGs. Mason gave me a pair for my sixteenth birthday. The NVGs are a game changer for what we’re about to do.
We take our usual spot alongside one another with a view of the parking lot, first-floor apartments, and the playground. Drug deals happen in front of the swing set and slides, and smash-and-grabs happen more often at the apartments across the way.
I understand why. Many of the residents are seniors or single parents, making them easy targets for criminals.
We sweep the area before returning to our conversation. “Well, did you have a high school sweetheart?”
“I did. She wanted to move around rather than stay in one place after graduation. My dream was to serve our country. Thinking it was a slam dunk, I enlisted and proposed. She turned me down. Said she didn’t want the life of a military wife.”
“She led you on.”
“She changed her mind.”
“But you two loved one another, right?”
“Yes.”
“Why break up? You two could have been together and chased different dreams at different times. It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”
He runs his palm over my hair. “Old soul in a young body. That’s who you are, Rue.” He stares off into the night with sadness in his eyes. “We weren’t so wise. I was too pissed off to think the way you do. I gave up on our love, and we went our separate ways.”
“I’m sorry, Mason.” I pat his shoulder. “How long did it take to get over her?”
Mason sighs, and it’s heavy. “Four fucking years.”
The time it’ll take for Malice to finish college. I could get over him while he’s living his best life playing football and dating the hottest girls on campus. Those girls won’t just be drop-dead gorgeous. They’ll be smart with parents who will never regret having them.
“What did you do to take away the heartache? Did you stop thinking of her? Punish yourself every time you did? Drink until you passed out? Throw darts at a picture of her nailed to your wall?”
“I did all of that, including running all the what ifs through my brain. What if I hadn’t enlisted? What if I took a year off while she started her first year of college? But none of it took away the ache in my chest. Six o’clock, Rue.”
I see the target. He is dressed in all black. Cans of spray paint are lined next to his feet. There will be no vandalism committed on my watch.
I aim the BB gun and pull the trigger. The gold pellet bounces off the ground next to one of the cans. The guy’s gaze darts around. I fire another shot next to his shoes, followed by a shot that whizzes near his right ear. The pellet ricochets off the building.
The target runs off and leaves the cans behind. We’ll grab them on our way back to the car.
“Ten o’clock,” Mason whispers.
A guy goes from one car to another. He looks inside the driver-side window of an older Honda Accord. I recognize the “I Survived Cancer” bumper sticker. Virginia’s husband left her while she was getting her last round of chemotherapy.
I met her at the Walk for Cancer event at Delridge High’s track. She is in her mid-forties, has wavy, short brown hair and a friendly smile. She loves talking about the herbs she grows on her windowsill and is one of the grocery store cashiers.
I aim for his butt but miss, hitting the back of his leg instead. He yelps, and the sound echoes in the night. I smirk. It shouldn’t hurt badly enough from this distance for him to cry out like a little baby. The pain is more like a surprise flick on the skin. I know this from experience. Mason made me the target for one of his and his friends’ target practices.
Just like the first guy, this guy runs off.
I set my BB gun down and study the emptiness of the darkness with my chin resting on my crisscrossed arms.
“What did you do to get over her? Did you date other girls? Did you go looking for her? If you did, was seeing her again your closure?”
Another heavy sigh from Mason. “Yeah, I dated other girls. No one compared to her. After my enlistment was over, I found her through social media. Seeing her with another dude and a kid who looked like them gutted me.”
I can’t imagine what Mason must have gone through to lose his first love to someone else. And for her to have a baby with a different man other than him. No wonder he felt like his insides were ripped from his belly. I bury my face in my arms.
Tears prickle the corners of my eyes, and I let them fall beneath my ski mask and NVGs. My shoulders shake.
Mason smooths his hand over my hair again and again. “Don’t be sad for me, Spunk. It happened years ago.”
“But you hurt for so long.”
“Four years does seem like a lifetime, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” I mumble into my sleeve.
“Life goes on, Spunk. No matter how much we want to go back and change the past, what happened in our past is what makes us who we are today.”
“Have you fallen in love since?”
“Nah.”
“Because you haven’t found the right woman? Or is it because you scare them away with how muscular and tatted you are?”
Mason is six foot three with a full sleeve of ink on both arms, and his neck and chest are covered with tattoos. Add in a full beard and a fade-style haircut, and Mason would look great on the cover of an MC biker or Mafia romance novel.
“Are you afraid of me?”
“I was deathly scared when we first met,” I admit.
Mason showed up super late to Isaac’s first neighborhood block party four years ago.
“But you bandaged me up so gently when I sliced my hand open and stayed with me when I passed out from seeing all that blood that I changed my mind.”
Mason laughs. “Fuck, I can’t believe you fainted at the slightest hint of red.”
Except for the one time when it mattered most. When I lost my virginity to Malice.
“Does that mean you faint during your time of the month?”
“Ew, TMI, but no. It was the pain on top of the blood gushing from the gash in my skin.” I shiver. The wound gaped so badly that I had to get stitches.
He strokes his chin. “That’s right. Colton hid his vape pen in a tight spot along with a razor blade, and you tried stealing his pen and got slashed.”
“Vaping is bad for his health, and since he’s one of Isaac’s best friends, I want to be sure he lives a long life.”
“That’s thoughtful of you, Spunk. But as your big bro would say, ‘Colton is his own man.’”
I sigh. “I know, but?—”
“Hey, I understand this compulsion of yours to do good by doing harm, but at some point, you gotta find a different habit. One that doesn’t entail taking things from people, you know?”
I sigh again. “Understood. So, why haven’t you fallen in love since your first love broke your heart? I doubt it’s your appearance. I was just joking, okay?”
He nods. “Honestly, I’m not in the right headspace and haven’t been for a while, Spunk.”
“What does that mean?” I haven’t lived as long as Mason has. Plus, I’m not a guy. He is speaking guy-speak.
“My parents’ health is in the shitter, Tessa has an annoying habit of picking losers to date, and I gotta watch over you and now Leigh.”
“I won’t speak for Leigh, but I can take care of myself. Tessa can help with your parents. I can help Tessa weed out the losers.” It takes one to know one, and currently, I am the biggest loser in Delridge for failing to keep Malice in line. “Go out more, Mason. Fall deeply and madly in love.”
He laughs. “You’re such a romantic, Rue.”
“So, you’ll do it? You’ll take a chance on falling deeply and madly in love?”
“Are you throwing down a challenge?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck, Rue, you know I love a good challenge. What do I get in return should I make this wish of yours happen?”
What do I have that Mason would want in exchange? It doesn’t take me long to come up with an answer. “You can drive Malice’s GT-R.”
He whistles. “Holy fuck. That’s his baby. No way will he agree to let me take his baby for a joy ride.”
“I’ll convince him.”
“Your funeral.”
“Imagine taking your forever love for a drive. She’ll go gaga over how you handle the gear stick.”
Mason ducks his head. His laughter is a deep rumble that has me smiling. “You’re something else. Okay, you have yourself a deal.” We shake on it.
“So, how did you finally get over your first love?” The reason we’re on our stomachs staring at the empty parking lot hunting down our next target.
“I wished nothing but happiness for her. Every time she popped up out of the blue in my mind or something jogged my memory of her, I wished her all the best life could offer for her and that she was happy.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“Does that way of thinking apply to burned bridges of a friendship too?”
“Red?”
“Yes.”
“What do you think?”
Mason’s answer is too simple a solution. “I’ll give it a try, but you better not steer me wrong. Otherwise, I’ll cockblock you at your next party.”
“We’re on, Spunk. Now, let’s head back to my place. My freezer is stocked with your favorite ice cream.”