Chapter 7
CRUTCH
Working on my Western Civ paper after that was a moot point. I packed my computer bag, stored it in my truck, and I’ve been watching Lulu like a creep from the corner of the living room for the past thirty minutes.
She doesn’t really fit in. And you can tell she hates small talk. Even more than that, you can tell she doesn’t have the patience to talk to stupid people. Which actually plays out nicely—nearly everyone here is high or drunk, rendering even the smart ones a little moronic.
Amber gave up on her quest of bagging me and currently has her tongue down the throat of some guy with a tattoo on his forehead of two people fucking and some kind of chain connecting his nose ring to his earring. When I turn my eyes back to Lulu, she’s gone. I don’t see her anywhere, and a small fire of panic swirls into my throat.
My brother’s loud, cough-filled laugh draws my attention, and when he shifts to the side, I see Lulu standing beside him, talking to another guy and girl. The second my brother’s arm snakes around her shoulder, I find myself pushing through the crowd.
Why?
Who the hell knows?
Do I plan on giving my dumbass brother a bloody nose simply for putting his arm around a girl? A girl I don’t know. A girl I don’t care about. A girl who could have him thrown in jail.
Oddly, I think the answer to all the above is yes. Hell yes, to be more precise.
“Look at this girl, y’all. My new friend, Ella. Didn’t I tell you she had the best fucking legs you’ve ever seen. Miles long.” He turns to her, rubbing his nose against her earlobe. “I bet you look great in shorts.”
I’m gonna kill him.
Lulu’s straight spine stiffens even more. “You’re right, Trash. Your parties are great. I’ll be right back. Just need to use the ladies’ room.” She sneaks out from under his arm right when I’m within reaching distance. Catching my eye, she smirks and quickly darts into the hallway.
That little minx.
I don’t make it past my brother before he’s wrapping his arms around me for a hug. “Bro! I’m so glad you came inside. You need to stop being a pussy and doing homework all the time. You need to get some actual pussy.” Laughing, he stumbles, sloshing beer on my shirt.
Please. I’ve had more pussy in the past three months than he’s had in the past three years.
“Here, I have something for you.” He shoves a little plastic bag with three pills inside—blue, white, and pink—into the pocket of my long-sleeve T-shirt. “I know you never take, but you’ve been so stressed out lately. It’s my gift to you. Late Christmas present.”
I don’t remember my brother ever getting me a Christmas present.
Knowing he’s too messed up to even remember this conversation, I just nod my head and turn down the hall. There she is. Standing in front of the bathroom door, she’s talking to Christina, one of the hardcore girls.
I went to high school with Christina. She’s two years older than me. She used to be smart. Wasn’t that bad to look at. Now, she looks terrible. Absolutely terrible. She just got released from jail a couple of weeks ago. I don’t even know what she was in for this last time. She’s already had three kids by three different guys, and all three have been taken away by Child Protective Services. Skin and bones, she shakes just standing there. Touching her face, she picks at an imaginary spot on her chin, scratching a scab that’s already been picked a hundred times over.
The only thing surprising about Christina is that she still carries a camera around her neck. She was really big into photography back in high school. I’m actually surprised she hasn’t pawned the camera for drug money, because Lord knows she’s sold anything and everything she can for her next high—including herself from what I’ve been told.
She stares at Lulu with sunken eyes.
“So, my sister used to come to these parties. I was out of town for a long time, so I wasn’t able to come with her. But she had planned to bring me. She wanted me to get in the game.”
Get in the game? She has been watching too many TV shows.
She reaches up again, rubbing the back of her neck. “You know, the pill game. She went missing. So, I’m just trying to pick up where she left off. You know, meet the needs of my friends. Hey, maybe you know her. Carrie? Carrie Hill?”
She’s so bad at this. She might as well be wearing a neon sign that says ‘Narc’.
Right then, some people from the living room cheer, and a hush of whispers travel through the crowd. “Trey! Bout time you showed up.”
Fuck me.
Time to go.
I walk down the hall and grab Lulu’s elbow. Firmly. Bending my head, I place my lips across the ridge of ear. “You need to get out of here. Now.”
It could be my imagination, but I think she shivers.
Pulling back, she opens her mouth to argue, but quickly pulls her bottom lip between her teeth when she sees the look on my face. Sensing the tension pouring from my body in huge, pounding waves, she nods.
One simple nod.
I slide my hand down her arm, taking her hand in mine. Before we can walk away, Christina snatches out, grabbing at Lulu’s shoulder.
“Hey! Cops are looking for that missing girl. You trying to bring cops around here?”
Lulu’s eyes widen.
“No, Christina, she was just kidding. Here.” I grab the baggie from my pocket and shove it in her hand. The Holy Trinity packet in front of her consumes all of her thoughts and desires, and she quickly loses interest in us, or why we’re there.
Ignoring Lulu’s piercing glare, I tug her behind me. Stopping at the edge of the living room, I take stock of my surroundings, spying Trey on the other side, next to the kitchen. Tucking Lulu against my opposite side, I wrap my arm around her, shielding her from view, and guide her across the room and out the front door. I make sure we’re halfway down the dirt driveway, behind some cars, before I let her go.
She immediately puts distance between us and then slaps her hands on her hips. It’s the first time I’ve seen her slouch and cock her leg out to the side. “What was that?”
I turn the ballcap around backward on my head. The lights of the trailer are behind us, so the only thing lighting Lulu’s face and body is the full moon of the winter night.
So fucking gorgeous.
Trash was right. She has the longest legs I’ve ever seen.
“You weren’t exactly being discreet in there. I told you those people get crazy when they think about cops coming around. That guy who just came in? Trey? He’s the dealer, the middleman between the supplier and the pushers. At least, that’s what these losers call it—it’s like a drug pyramid scheme. Anyway, he’s the one I told you about. He will kill you if he thinks you’re a narc.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not! He’s killed before, Lulu. He only served four years because of a plea deal. It was technically ruled self-defense, and he got the actual time on a possession charge. But all of us around here know it wasn’t really self-defense. He murdered a guy.”
She swallows. Placing her hands at her side, she pulls back her shoulders and lifts her head. A statue again.
I sigh, tossing my hands in the air. “You can’t question these people, Lulu. I know you want to. You have a right to. But you can’t. The normal rules of nature—the normal rules of society—don’t apply out here. These people are fiercely protective of their addiction. They’ll do anything to keep it safe. No one is gonna talk to you. No one is gonna give you any information at all. Even if they know something, they won’t tell you.”
She doesn’t answer.
I kick the ground with the toe of my boot. “You need to leave. You need to get out of here.”
Eventually, she nods. I take a quick look around searching for her vehicle. I’m about to ask her where she parked when she walks right past me, heading back in the direction of the front door. “Where are you going? I thought I just told you—”
“I’m going to get your brother.”
Harsher words have never been spoken.
“He brought me. My car’s not here. It’s at the gas station. He has to drive me back.”
Red flashes behind my eyelids. “You rode with Trash? You let him drive you? Are you damn crazy? Never, ever ride in a vehicle with any of those people behind the wheel.” I throw my hand in the direction of the mobile home. “You understand me? Never.”
She just stares.
“Promise me.”
She nods. One simple nod.
This nodding and staring shit is driving me mad.
She unzips her wrist wallet and pulls out her phone. I laugh when I see her pecking around on the screen. “You’re not gonna get an Uber out this way, babe.”
Her head jerks from the screen.
I can’t decide if she likes being called ‘babe’ or not.
“Come on, I’ll drive you,” I say. With slow, trepid steps, she follows me over to my old truck. I open the passenger-side door, but she doesn’t move to get in. “It’s a 1970 Ford F-250 Crew Cab. It may not look like what you’re used to, but I promise it’s perfectly safe. I’ve spent years working on it.”
That comment sparks more emotion on her face than me telling her that Trey could kill her. She doesn’t like me insinuating that she’s too rich to ride in my truck.
“That’s not it. You just told me to never get in a car with any of those people. But you were drinking too. You had pills in your pocket.”
“You’re right. I was drinking beer. But I don’t take pills. My brother stuffed them in my pocket.”
She thins her lips when I don’t elaborate. “Well, do you plan on telling me how much you had to drink tonight?”
I bend down, sinking to her eye level. “Not enough to forget about meeting you.”
I leave the door open and walk to the driver’s side, climbing behind the wheel. The truck purrs to life, rumbling in the night like a low thunder, before she climbs in and slams the door. For the first several minutes, she stares out the window. Her reflection against the dark glass mesmerizes me. She doesn’t know I’m looking at her. And her face is finally soft. Relaxed. She chews against her bottom lip in thought and rubs the back of her neck.
Why does she keep rubbing her neck? Maybe she pulled a muscle?
Eventually, I break the silence. “Go ahead and ask me. I know you want to.”
She turns to me, studying my profile. “What?”
“Don’t make me say it, Lulu. And don’t beat around the bush. I like you when you get to the point.”
I do like her. So help me, I like her.
“Did you kidnap my sister?”
“No.”
“Did you hurt my sister?”
“No.”
“Do you know where she is?
“No.”
“Do you know if anyone kidnapped her or hurt her?”
“If I knew something like that, I would’ve gone to the police. It may seem like I’m trying to hide something, with the drug business and all of that, but I’m just being realistic. If one of those people knows something, it will come out sooner or later. When they’re older. More scared. Less scared. More sober. Less sober. But nobody is gonna talk now. All you’re gonna do with your questions is build brick walls. And it will take a very long time to tear them down.”
Her next question catches me completely off guard.
“Did you sleep with my sister?”
I nearly run off the road. “What?”
“Did you have sex with Carrie?”
“Why would you ask that? What would make you think that?”
She adjusts the air vent blowing on her. “Those girls insinuated you are promiscuous. Carrie and her boyfriend broke up before she went missing.”
“Promiscuous? Are you turning me into an after-school special?”
“Are you avoiding the question?”
“I didn’t sleep with Carrie. No.” She exhales, loud enough for me to hear. I hate the next words that come from my mouth. Why? I don’t know. “But we did kiss.”
I side glance at her. Her jaw tightens and she’s stiff as a board.
Is kissing me really that horrible of a thought?
“I didn’t take advantage of her, if that’s what you’re thinking. I make it a point to never get involved with anyone from my brother’s parties. Carrie seemed different, though. Smart, kind, flirtatious. She kissed me. And I didn’t stop it. At first, that is. As soon as I realized she was under the influence, I left.”
She refuses to look at me.
We ride in silence, eventually pulling up at the gas station. I park next to her SUV and fully expect her to jump from my truck so fast she leaves sparks in her wake. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t even reach for the door handle.
She’s drowning in thought.
Drowning in memories.
I’m about to get myself into trouble.
So much fucking trouble.
“There’s a place I wanna show you? You feel up to it?”