14. Maya
Maya
As Marco drove me home, I had a feeling that when I woke tomorrow, things would be different.
My life was never good for long. I had a group of loving friends who had created a space that was so beautiful, it actually made me sad.
Sad because I wasn’t positive how to pay them back for it or for the real gift they’d given me—their friendship.
We reached the trailer park, and after some cops drove past, taking note of the property, we were given word that neither of them were home. I shivered in my crappy jacket, having insisted that I couldn’t bring any of my new, nice things home. My mother would destroy them.
“Marco,” I whispered, pausing at the trailer door to look down at his stunning face. “I don’t want you coming in.”
Instead of being offended, he stepped closer to me, lifting me up with an arm around the waist and opening the door. He set me down once we’d stepped inside, and I cringed at the low rumble that left his throat as his eyes searched the kitchen.
God, it was so much worse looking at it from his point of view.
“Why does it smell like your blood in here?” he bit out, looking back at me.
“I’m sure I’ve cut myself while cooking,” I murmured, looking to my feet.
His jaw clenched, then he exhaled, muttering a curse and running a hand through his hair. “Maya.”
“Want to see my room?” I asked, leading Marco down the short hallway. He ducked under the doorway, his chest letting out a more dangerous sound than before.
Alright, clearly I wasn’t going to make this man happy.
“You’ve been living like this all week?” he snarled.
“It’s not that bad,” I said, diverting my eyes.
Marco was pissed though. “Not bad, Maya? If that’s true, then I don’t even want to consider what you deem as bad.”
I flinched, and a small growl came from my throat. “You’re being mean, Marco.”
His eyes widened, and he then looked away, muttering under his breath in a different language. I watched carefully as he closed the bedroom door, locking it and slipping a chair under the knob before kicking off his shoes.
“What are you doing?” I asked quietly.
He raised a brow before answering, “Atlas has a job tonight, and I don’t want you sleeping alone.”
“You don’t have to,” I whispered, not wanting to be a burden.
“I know,” he stated softly, beckoning me down to the bed. “But I want to.”
I curled on my side, facing him, his eyes darkening on my expression as he wrapped his arms around me and hooked a leg over mine. A peace took over me, and I fell asleep easily.
That should’ve been the first sign something was wrong.
When I woke up, I was overwhelmed by the sensation that I wasn’t truly awake, that this was some odd dream state. But why would Jed be in my dreams? I froze as the man offered me a sneer and released the safety from the gun pointed at Marco’s sleeping form. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.
I had no idea how he hadn’t woken up yet, but then I realized the door had never been opened, the chair still lodged beneath the handle. How the heck had Jed fit in through the window?
“Shhh,” Jed whispered. “I want to make something very clear, little bitch.”
Why did this not feel right?
My brain was hazy, my movements lethargic, like I was trudging through space and time at a slower rate. I wanted to shake Marco awake, but it was like he was knocked out. My pulse picked up, and I began to tremble.
“Jed,” I whispered.
He moved the gun closer to Marco’s head and leaned forward. “If I find one of them here again, in any capacity, I’ll kill them.”
Something fierce inside of me threatened to break out, but when his hand closed around my throat, I started to choke. That was when things got even more odd, because I could feel someone shaking me and whispering my name, but I was also losing consciousness.
He was going to kill Marco.
“Marco,” I cried out as Jed let go of my throat. The air around me turned crisp, everything snapping into reality. A soothing voice murmured near my ear, but I was afraid to open my eyes. Afraid to see that Marco was dead.
He couldn’t be.
“Honey,” he whispered gently. “I’m right here, Maya. I need you to open your eyes. Please.”
“He tried to kill you,” I gasped, sobbing into Marco’s shirt and he soothed my hair.
I knew rationally he wasn’t dead; I wasn’t stupid.
Yet even his vanilla pine scent couldn’t completely calm me down.
I needed more. I needed to open my eyes.
They stung as I did, but a pair of clear mint green eyes met mine in a commanding soft way.
“I’m right here,” he whispered. “Who tried to kill me, Maya?”
“Jed.” My stomach rolled with nausea, and I placed my head down, feeling dizzy. My shoulder blades hurt like they wanted to move, and my body was flushed with heat. I could feel a change coming, but I had no idea what it was. Right then, a pounding on my door had me pressing further into Marco.
“Little bitch, you’d better be asleep. I don’t want to hear any of your fucking crying.”
He was drunk, and I covered the rumble that came from Marco’s mouth as I tried to be as quiet as possible. I shivered against his frame, the wind surging through my open window and cascading against my heated, tear-filled face.
“Maya!” He pounded on the door again. “Answer me, you fucking bitch.”
Hadn’t he just said I better be asleep?
“Jed!” My mother’s raspy voice called out. “Come here baby.”
I was trembling, my skin ice cold as his footsteps receded. I looked at Marco, and the fury in his gaze had me panicked. “You’re done living here.”
I nodded and put my head against his large chest, relaxing into the man I’d grown to trust so much. His dragon made a soft, compelling noise that had me relaxing as I closed my eyes.
I was so thankful the gun had been a dream.
A larger reality hit me in the chest, though, the reason I hadn’t wanted to get close—I didn’t want them getting hurt. Didn’t want them put in the line of fire.
My eyes fluttered shut on the thought that I probably needed to find a way to distance myself from the boys. Something that felt nearly impossible.
***
I was starting to understand the complaints others offered about school. My mind was a foggy mess from the night before, and as I sat in my afternoon classes, my mind began to wander, considering the implications of my birthday on Saturday.
I knew that the boys wanted me to stay, but I wasn’t naive enough to think they’d be around forever.
Eventually I would need to fend for myself.
Thankfully I’d gotten that job, because now I could at least create a small savings…
not that I knew how to open a bank account.
Or if I even could, considering my lack of a Social Security number.
The boys sat behind me, and when I turned, the twins looked up, Henry glancing up with a smile before returning to taking enough notes for the both of us. The twins didn’t even have their textbooks out.` “You didn’t really have this class with me, did you?”
Anani flashed a smile. “We do now.”
“Why?”
Ledger tossed out the damn phrase everyone had been using. “Because you’re our mate.”
Tonight I was going to get some answers about what that entailed in the long-run. If it meant what I thought it did, I was worried.
When the bell rang, I stood up and walked to the front, dropping off my in-class assignment and offering my teacher a smile.
“How are you adjusting, Maya?” she asked, her voice soft and understanding. Ms. Gabriel was actually one of the more understanding and friendly teachers.
“Okay.” I smiled. “Better than I expected.”
“You ready?” Henry asked as I wished her goodbye and stepped into the hallway. The air was chilled, and I could feel eyes on me, making me feel self-conscious even though I had less reason to feel that way today. My pleated skirt was fresh and my shoes shiny. I looked flippin’ great.
People stared and talked as we walked by, Henry frowning as a chill of dread crawled up my spine. I froze as I saw Becky Ash standing ahead, surrounded by a bunch of photographs on the floor and a large collage on my locker.
Why did I feel like this day was about to get far worse?
“Henry,” Anani said, on edge. “We need to get her…”
“Oh, Maya!” Becky called. My back straightened, and I shook off the twins trying to pull me behind them. I swallowed and crossed my arms in a defensive posture.
“What, Becky?” I asked, feeling colder than usual.
“I just wanted to repay the favor of you burning off my hair.” She flashed a dirty smirk before tossing a series of extra photos on the ground. “Wouldn’t want your new boyfriends to be unaware of what trailer trash you are, after all.”
Oh no.
I kept my face blank as laughter exploded around me, and someone tugged on my sleeve.
I kneeled down and picked up the photos covering the hallway.
My mother sitting on the porch smoking a cigarette in her nightgown.
My small body curled up on a threadbare mattress.
My torn, bloody hood in the trash along with a million beer cans that I prayed would distract from it.
Evidence of every facet of my pathetic life was here, and man, did it look rough.
I looked horrible. I looked…like trash. “Don’t forget the fact your mom beats you because even she doesn’t fucking want you,” Becky added.
My eyes flicked over to the locker, where a picture taken through the kitchen window showed my mother holding me by my hair and yelling in my face.
I cringed but still couldn’t figure out what to say.
Henry was talking in harsh tones, but I was lost in my humiliation. And fury. Who did this to someone?
Meeting Becky’s gaze, I examined the manic look in her eyes and cruel sneer on her face.
This meant a lot to her. What did it mean to me?
Nothing. Really—I was never going to see these people again after I graduated.
At most I was worried about my friends’ reactions…
but they seemed angry at her. Furious, actually.