Chapter 42 Bastian
Bastian
Pepper spray?
I scoff to myself as I start up my Tesla and guide it out of the parking bay. The second half of the game just began, but my appetite for sport leans more toward hunting than football. I only came here to make an appearance…and to see if Haven would grace us with her presence.
A soft drizzle mists up my windshield as I turn onto the main road exiting the stadium.
I thought Haven was stronger than this. All it took was a glimpse of her past, and she was ready to gouge out everyone’s eyes. While I love pressing on a fresh bruise, I recognized that feral look in her eyes when I approached her.
She’s ready to run again.
And this time, she’ll make sure no one can find her.
Not me, not Kai, not her atrocious father.
I’ll admit, seeing Robert Lee in the flesh came as a shock.
Now I understand why Haven goes to such lengths to avoid talking about her past.
We’d both rather leave those memories buried six feet deep.
Hers, unfortunately, clawed its way out…and is currently plodding through the growing puddles on the sidewalk up ahead.
I pull up alongside a damp, limping Bobby Lee outside the stadium’s entrance. A limp courtesy of the violent kick Kai landed in his side a few minutes ago. The boy only got in a few shots, but if I hadn’t grabbed Kai’s arm and hauled him away, I doubt Bobby would be walking anywhere.
There was murder in Kai’s eyes.
Wonder if he looked at his brother the same way at the Rain Dance before he caved in Ezra’s face?
Drizzle splatters onto my windshield, flicked away by the Tesla’s wiper blades as if the car can’t stand being wet.
“Mr. Lee,” I call through the lowered window. “Need a ride to the bus station? I’m headed that direction.”
He turns, lips twisted with suspicion. Behind the weathered lines and broken capillaries on his face, I see a ghost of Haven—the same stubborn jaw, the same slightly upturned nose. But she must have her mother’s eyes, because Bobby’s are a muddy brown.
“Fuck off!” he snaps, keeping his distance.
“You sure?” I hit the unlock button, barely audible above the car’s tires crunching over grit as I keep pace with Bobby in the Tesla. “It’s a few miles to the bus stop. You’ll be soaked through.”
…you’ll catch your death…
I shut out my mother’s voice before it becomes a lecture. Bobby says nothing, trudging ahead through the drizzle like a soldier with orders. Even has the same thousand-yard stare.
“Rain’s only going to get worse.”
His eyes dart to the car, then to the gray sky, cheeks twitching as drizzle hits his face.
The calculation is pathetically obvious as he weighs pride with practicality.
It helps that I never laid a hand on him.
That I was the one to give him the money that finally sent him on his way.
That I never once cussed at him, or lost my cool.
Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.
I saw Haven’s shame. Her panic. But what made my blood boil was the fear and loathing that flooded her pupils.
Robert Lee isn’t just guilty of neglect. Her hatred spoke to something more sinister.
Something evil.
On any given day, I’d be more than keen to peel back the delicious layers of her traumatic past, to dissect and examine the abuse she’d suffered…but the thought that such a wretch of a man had hurt my girl smothered my usual cool indifference with wrath of biblical proportions.
If I’d given in to the urge to lay my hands on Bobby, they’d have to use dental records to identify him at the morgue.
I could claim self-defense, and I could manipulate Kai into vouching for me, but I’d rather not have to risk the inquiry into my background.
Thankfully, watching Kai slam his fist into Robert’s face gave me enough vicarious pleasure that I had a semi by the time I dragged the boy off him.
But that satisfaction was short-lived.
I’m already, as they say, desperate for another fix.
As I’m about to lock the door and keep driving, Bobby stops walking. Guess he’s decided I’m the lesser of two evils.
“Yeah, fuck, alright,” he mutters, yanking open the door and dropping heavily into the passenger seat.
Stale sweat, cigarettes, grimy clothes.
Soon as the smell hits me, I’m glad I haven’t gotten around to steam cleaning my car yet. Haven’s neon body paint is still caked into the dark red leather. And before the end of this trip, Bobby’s stench will be, too.
I crank up the AC as I pull away from the curb.
“You understand why we asked you to leave,” I say, glancing at him. “Campus security’s a pain in the ass when they get involved.”
“Asked me to leave?” Bobby lets out a sardonic snort, staring out the window as he fingers his ribs where Kai kicked him. “That what you call letting that snot-nosed brat wail on me like that? I should press fucking charges.”
“You could, but I doubt it would be worth the effort.” I navigate us through the winding roads leading away from campus. “I apologize on behalf of Mr. Jordan for the discomfort he caused.”
“Discomfort,” Bobby mutters sourly. “That boy better stay the hell away from me.”
“I sensed there was no love lost between you two. What was that you said to him back there? Something about making him eat dirt again?”
“Punk showed up at the trailer one day, looking for a fight.” He chuckles, his eyes lighting up with malicious glee. “Threw a punch, and I put him down. Hard. But the little shit kept getting up. Like he was asking for it. Beat seven shades of snot out of that boy ‘fore he ran home to his mama.”
“Jesus. How old was he?”
“Dunno. Twelve. Thirteen? It matter?”
Yes, it fucking matters. Going toe-to-toe with a man your own age is one thing. When Kai kicked him and Bobby started writhing and blubbering like a fucking soccer player, I knew he was a coward. But being this fucking smug about putting a tween on his ass?
“Why’d he start a fight with you?”
“Drugs, prob’ly.” Bobby waves away the question. “Everyone was getting fried back then. Only God knows how Haven stayed clean.”
“Sounds like drugs, alright,” I agree.
There’s more to this, but now that the bragging is done, Bobby is locking down again. Finding out why Kai had a bone to pick with him is not on my list of priorities for this very uncomfortable, hopefully very short car ride. I could always ask Kai.
I swear to God, I can taste Bobby’s sweat.
“And Haven? She try to stop you?”
He’s quiet for a moment, brow furrowed. “Nah, she was at school. Must’ve been.” But he doesn’t sound sure, which is on brand for a someone who was probably off his mind on meth or heroin at the time.
“Little punk’s been sniffing around Haven since she was a girl, you know. Filling her head with ideas. So fucking happy when the Jordans fucked off out of that trailer park. Put Haven back in her place.”
That place, I presume, being under her father’s boot heel as he ground the will to live out of her.
He’s shocked she didn’t do drugs?
I’m shocked she made it to puberty without killing herself.
“I’d have done the same,” I tell him.
He glances at me, lifting a lip to reveal a most unfortunate set of rotting teeth. “The fuck you on about?”
“I get it, Bobby.” I lean in his direction, giving him a conspiratorial smile. “Dealing with these kids day in, day out, it’s fucking exhausting. Sometimes I just need to get out of my own head, you know?”
Bobby says nothing, scratching the side of his neck. It has nothing to do with his grubby skin—that’s withdrawal. From the looks of it, he can’t fucking wait to take the money I gave him and score another fix.
“I tell you,” I say through a laugh, “this week’s been one for the books.”
No need to mention last night’s black out, or how my credit card balance is significantly higher this morning than it was yesterday.
I’ve made several questionable purchases lately.
One of them was a redhead who unironically called herself ‘Ginger Snap.’
I tap my fingers against the steering wheel, light glancing off something embedded in my cuticle.
Glitter.
Red glitter.
“Sometimes you just need to blow off some steam, right? Kids don’t get it. I mean, Jesus, what the fuck do they have to stress about?”
Bobby’s eyes flick toward me, a flash of recognition there. One user sizing up another.
“Fucking kids,” he mutters, but cautiously. Testing.
“Everyone’s got their poison.”
He stiffens, mouth pursing. “I ain’t using anymore, if that’s what you’re ‘sinuating,” he lies.
“Me neither,” I lie just as easily. “Told myself this weekend was the last.”
I pick at the piece of glitter trapped in my cuticle.
That reminds me, I need to launder my bedding.
I flex my hand on the steering wheel, pushing the thoughts away.
Focus on Bobby Lee.
If anything can repair the damage between me and Haven, it’s this festering sore of a human being oozing meth-tainted sweat onto my leather. But the fucker is turning out to be a hard nut to crack. I can thank his drug-induced paranoia for that.
Me and paranoia go way back.
Which is why I’m so familiar with its bedfellow, resentment.
“Couldn’t have been easy raising Haven by yourself.”
Silence.
“Especially when you had to move to Ashwood Crossing.”
His head whips toward me, eyes narrowing. “How the fuck you know about that?”
“It’s on Haven’s college application,” I say smoothly.
“’Course it is.” He laughs humorlessly. “That little runt sure got a pair of fucking balls on her, don’t she?”
“She did what she had to do, Bobby.”
His snort is as distasteful as the look he throws my way. “So did I. And what do I get? Ungrateful leech steals my fucking car and runs off to some swanky school.”
“Got to cut her some slack. She didn’t have a mother growing up.”