Chapter 4
Amelia
It takes two drinks to calm my nerves as we stand at the bar in the club.
I was certain the doormen were going to sniff out our fake id’s and tell us to move along, but with Clare’s flirty ways and our obviously good fakes, they stepped to the side and let us in.
The bar is crammed with people, and the music is so loud I can barely hear myself think, but it’s not as bad as I thought it was going to be. I’m actually having fun.
The glass of rum and coke in my hand is pushed toward my mouth and Clare urges me to drink. Her mission is to get me wasted. She wants me to live and experience a real hangover while no one is at the house to catch me out.
“Finish that one and we’ll get another before we hit the dancefloor.”
I’m looking forward to the dancing. The impending hangover, not so much. However, I finish my drink, and the glass disappears from my hand. I smile as Clare gets the barman’s attention. This time around she orders shots, and they hit me a lot harder and faster than the two rum and cokes.
The dancefloor is body to body, and we squeeze through until we find ourselves a space in the middle.
Our bodies begin to sway to the beat and before long I’m fully relaxed and laughing, enjoying myself.
For once, my mind is clear of everything.
Shaking our asses, and throwing our hands in the air, I relent and thank her for insisting I come out tonight.
This is what I needed, to relax and have fun.
Only, a pair of arms circles around Clare’s waist and as I drag my eyes up to see who they belong to, she’s spun around and she’s giggling in Tariq’s arms.
“You made it,” she yells over the music, and I stop dancing.
She knew he was going to show up? What happened to having a girl’s night to celebrate my birthday? She lied to me.
“Sure did, baby, but we’ve got to go. We just had trouble out back and I don’t want to be in here if they come looking. It’s only Darius and me, you feel me?”
Trouble? Of course they ran into trouble. I’m sure it follows them like cheap cologne. What surprises me most is Clare doesn’t argue with him. We were having a blast and now she’s prepared to leave because he says so.
She looks over her shoulder at me and while her mouth moves, I can’t make out what she’s saying.
She reaches for my hand and because I don’t want to be left here on my own, I let her drag me through the crowd, following her boyfriend until we’re out on the street.
A car is sat idling by the curb. Tariq throws open the passenger door but climbs in the back, pulling Clare with him. I guess I’m sitting up front.
“What’s going on?” I hear Clare ask as I climb in.
As soon as I have the door closed, the car is wheel spinning away from the curb and pulling out into the sparse traffic.
I glance over at the driver, and it’s the guy with the rose tattoo, who I now know is called Darius.
“Like I said, we hit trouble, and we’ve got to get out of here,” Tariq tells her.
“Where are you taking us?” Clare demands.
“We’re hoping you’ll tell us, gotta lay low for tonight and all that.”
“My father’s away, we could go back to mine?”
I try to catch her attention in the rearview mirror but it’s no good, she’s only got eyes for Tariq.
“You sure?”
Yeah, are you sure, Clare? I think so loud I’m surprised she can’t hear me.
“I wouldn’t say if I wasn’t, but I want to know what happened.”
Glancing at Darius, who’s keeping just as quiet as I am, I notice his knuckles are split open and blood is starting to dry and crust between his fingers.
Their trouble was violent and now we could be implicated with whatever they have done.
“We ran into some guys from another crew, and it got out of hand.”
She’s content with his limited answer and rattles off her address to Darius.
While kissing noises and giggles come from the back seat, I keep my face forward and take in how fast but smooth Darius drives.
It’s weird how he knows the streets around here and when he arrives at Clare’s house, he asks for the gate code.
Before Clare can give out all her secrets, I jump out of the car and walk around to the keypad.
I finger punch in the code and jump back in the car as the gates begin to open.
“Wise.”
I shoot him a what-the-fuck glare hearing him speak for the first time tonight and he smirks.
As soon as the car comes to a stop, I climb out and debate whether to go home. I could walk from here and I have done so many times, but no one’s there and I don’t want to leave Clare alone with her boyfriend and his trouble.
Tariq keeps his arm around her as they walk up the grand white stone steps and he hovers close as she unlocks the door. Darius and I follow quietly behind them.
“Fuck me, baby, I knew you were a rich girl, but this is something else, eh?” He picks her up and swings her around in the foyer. Her laughter echoes in the grand space and she wraps her legs around his waist.
“Make yourselves comfortable, we’ll catch you in the morning,” Tariq says with a flash of mania in his eyes.
Clare doesn’t complain as he carries her up the stairs and I faintly hear him ask what room hers is and then a door close while silence weaves around Darius and me.
In this moment it doesn’t feel like I’ve spent half of my childhood in this house, and my mind is blank as to what to do next. Mr. Burley is going to have a heart attack if he finds out about this.
“There must be some hella good liquor in this place, yeah?”
Okay, alcohol. Finding a drink is something we can do. Something I can do.
He follows me into the kitchen and as I know my way around, I jerk my chin for him to take a seat, and I grab a bottle of Mr. Burley’s whiskey and two glasses from the cupboard.
I join him at the table, choosing to sit opposite and a smirk plays around his mouth.
“What?”
I’d like to know what he finds so amusing. I pour half a glass of the amber liquid, having no idea about proper measures and slide the glass across the table to him.
He scoops it up and throws the entire contents down his throat. Slamming it on the tabletop, he slides it back for another.
Pouring myself a glass, I top his up and put the bottle down. I slide him his drink and take a sip from mine. The liquid burns my throat on the way down and feels like a fire has been lit in my chest.
“You amuse me,” he says.
I frown. “In what way?”
He lifts the glass and swirls the whiskey as he says, “You’re not how I imagined you’d be like. I’m not often wrong so when I am, I find it amusing.”
I don’t need to ask how he imagined me to be, I can already imagine he thought I’d be a spoilt brat.
I don’t deny I usually get what I want from my dad, but I don’t ask for much and I don’t feel the need to show off the things I do get.
I know my life is privileged, that not everyone has the same luxuries I do.
“How long have they been seeing each other?” I ask to steer away from talking about me.
“Isn’t she your best friend? Shouldn’t you know?”
I should know but I’m not a fool, I know she’s not been telling me everything, especially when it comes to Tariq. A few months ago, she would disappear for days at a time, she would be vague when she returned and then I found out she had met Tariq.
“You’d think so, but there was a period when she went radio silent on me. I’m guessing she met him then, he’s certainly been around ever since.”
He stays quiet for a beat and finishes his drink. He doesn’t slide the glass for a refill.
“I take it your house is just as big as this place?” he asks, leaning his arms on the table.
He notices when I cringe, his eyes holding me in place, weighing me down.
“It’s a little bigger, only by two bedrooms and our pool is bigger.”
God, I sound stupid but it’s the truth and he asked.
“How many bedrooms does this place have?”
“Six.”
He shakes his head in disbelief and disgust. He looks around the kitchen, making his own assumptions about what the rest of the house must be like, and I too look around trying to see it through his eyes.
“What does your dad do to afford a place bigger than this one?”
“He owns a publishing house. It’s been in our family for nearly a hundred years.”
I’m expected to follow in my father’s footsteps and go to college, get a degree, ready to join the family business.
I’m not sure what I want, and I’m not fixed to know what I want right now.
What I’m content to do now is enjoy my last few weeks at school before my father gets on my back about college.
I’ve been accepted to a few different colleges, but if I attend is a different story.
“What does your dad do?” As soon as the question leaves my mouth, I instantly regret it. His jaw tightens, though I assume he hopes I didn’t catch it.
“He’s in prison, he won’t be out in this lifetime.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
He narrows his eyes, tilting his head as he stares at me. I curl my fingers around my drink and take a small sip to wet my lips for something to do.
“Who are you?”
Raising my brows, I ask, “Excuse me?”
“Who. Are. You? I’ve met your friend a few times and she’s exactly like every other girl I know, bar the wealth.
She’s starved for attention, and her crossing our tracks won’t help her find what she needs.
Tariq will be good to her for as long as she entertains him and then he’ll move on. But you seem different.”
Wow, he doesn’t mind sharing what he really thinks, yet am I ready to bare what’s in my soul?
“Come on, tell me who you are.”
He leans forward, reaching for the liquor. Pouring himself another drink, he offers me the bottle but I’m good with what I have left.
“I have no idea who I am. What I like changes all the time. What I want to do with my life flits from one thing to another every week, half the time I go through life not really seeing anything or anyone.”
Huh, maybe I was ready to share my soul. It’s more than what I’ve shared with Clare lately.
“Most people can’t admit they don’t know who they are, they see it as a weakness. That’s what makes you different to your friend, she’s all about the surface, there’s no depth to her.”
“You don’t know her, she hurts a lot. Your friend is just a distraction for her. She’ll probably find her next distraction long before your friend grows tired of her.”
The need to defend her grows stronger. How dare he make assumptions about her. He can’t possibly know what’s in her heart, what darkness lurks in her mind and what she battles every day.
“When you come from where we do, you get to know people real fast without them having to say much, if anything. We have to keep our eyes open at all times, living like that you get to see everything.”
“You think you have to live like that because of where you come from, but to me, people aren’t that different whether they have money or not. Wealth doesn’t give you kindness.”
“I guess that’s the one level everyone can be on regardless of money,” he says, his voice deep and smooth.
He leans across the table, his actions causing me to sit back out of his reach. But it’s not me he’s leaning over for, he scoops up the bottle of liquor and pours himself another drink.
Mine is still half full and he ignores refilling my glass. His eyes, dark orbs, pin me as he rolls his lips together. I have no idea what to say to a guy like him. I don’t need to know him to know he’s nothing like the guys at school.
“You’re not going home tonight, are you? You won’t leave your friend, even though if the situation were reversed and I was fucking you up in your room, she’d leave you in a blink of an eye if it benefitted her.”
“You don’t know that about her. Besides, we will never be in that position to find out.”
His smirk returns. “Maybe.”
There is no maybe about it. I know it won’t ever happen and not because he’s a part of a gang, it’s not because he’s covered in tattoos and bloody from fighting. I’m not interested in anything guys have to offer at the moment.
“Happy birthday.”
Taken by surprise, I ask, “How do you know it’s my birthday?”
“Tariq said that’s why his girl was out tonight.”
I don’t like how he refers to Clare as Tariq’s girl, it makes it sound like he’s a permanent fixture.
“I don’t know why she bothered, it’s not like she didn’t ditch me the second your friend showed up.”
I slam my mouth shut. I can’t believe I just oozed with bitterness in front of him.
“Perhaps she’s only your friend when it benefits her? Looks to me like you’re a time filler for her.”
I go to snap back at him, but nothing comes out. I don’t want to agree with him but after tonight, it’s hard to disagree.