Twenty-two

Raven

I’ve never hated public transportation more than I have tonight. Both buses on my route were late, and I paced restless circles, mumbling curses as I checked my cell a thousand times. The sight of my apartment has me forcing my speed walk into a jog. I bust through my front door, beeline for Rose’s room, and I freeze.

The space has been cleaned out. Her clothes are gone, her shoes gone, not a trace of her left in the space. Except for the magazines I bought for her last week. Those are tossed carelessly on the floor, right beside my fractured heart. I scour the rest of the apartment, but her toiletries are history, along with some groceries she bought with my money. She didn’t leave a note. I stare down at my phone, willing it to ring.

When it does buzz, I nearly jump out of my skin. Then I slump. Nico. Immediately, I chastise myself for my disappointment, almost smacking my head with my hand. Whatever is going on with Rose, at least she texted. This isn’t her disappearing again without a word, and this night should be about Nico, not her drama. Hoping beyond hope his news is good, I click on his message.

The charges against Josh have been dropped.

My heart gives a kick. So happy for you, I reply. And beyond happy for Josh. Now he can go to school, and Nico can breathe easier, and I get more of the man I love.

I need to spend a bit of time with my family, but I want to be with you tonight. Sleepover at my place?

Without more information, there isn’t much I can do about Rose, and sleeping with my Sexy Beast is my favorite pastime. National Thoroughly Fucked Day should really be a long weekend. Sounds perfect.

I’ll pick you up in half an hour.

I send a demented smiley face—my sticker signature—and sink onto the couch, mind still spinning a mile a minute. Reading Rose’s text again, I try to figure out what kind of mess she could be in. Someone from her past screwing with her? The guy she didn’t want to talk about? The room may be silent, but my head is full to bursting with noise. My cell rings, adding to my internal chaos. Please be Rose. Please be Rose. At the sight of her name, I scramble to hit Talk.

“Where are you?” I wince at the pitch of my voice.

“I’m sorry I left like that, but I needed to get out.”

I rub my sweaty palm on the couch. “Why in such a rush? Did something happen?”

Heavy breathing greets me. It goes on so long I almost ask if she butt dialed me while having sex. “An old friend got arrested. I haven’t seen the guy in a while, but he’s been tossing out names to the cops, hoping to get a slap on the wrist.”

“Names? Like your name? What was he arrested for?”

“Dealing drugs. My name and a few others. But I swear I had nothing to do with it. I was in the wrong place a few times over the years, but I haven’t hit that scene in ages. Whatever lies he’s spinning, I’m just getting caught in the web. I didn’t want to involve you, so I split, but…” She trails off.

Nico’s warning not to trust Rose crawls up my neck again, leaving a wake of raised hairs in its path. But she didn’t have to go. She did that to spare me whatever drama is following her, not to ensnare me. Protect me like she always has. “But…what? What do you need?”

Dead air drops between us, then, “I need an alibi for last night.”

I squint at my jean-clad knees and chew my lip. Last night? The night I spent on Nico’s couch and in his tub and under his sheets. “Weren’t you at work? Can’t they vouch for you?”

Rose mumbles something like back off from a distance. A few crackles later, she says, “I only had one delivery to make. I didn’t feel like hanging at home alone, so I walked around for a while and didn’t get back ’til late. All I need is for you to say we spent the night together.”

“But I spent the night with Nico.” My words are so quiet, she asks me to repeat them. But I don’t. She doesn’t know what she’s asking. Nico isn’t some meathead who won’t clue in. If I have to make a statement, it will get back to him. Cops talk. I’ve been to the station a few times to visit him. People know me. If I lie about that night, he has to lie, too.

“Raven, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. They’re saying I was selling crack on Hastings. If I had someone else to go to, I would. But I don’t. It’s just you and me. Always has been.” Another pause. “Please. I could go to jail.”

The word jail doubles my anxiety, but that’s not the part that has the room spinning. It’s just you and me. Always has been. She doesn’t need to remind me she took the beating of a lifetime to keep me safe. It’s in every syllable she speaks. She’s cashing in my debt.

Last week we shared a blanket, lying on either end of the couch eating Fruit Loops. She even braided my hair like when we were kids. If she were dealing drugs, I would have seen a sign. If she were smoking or getting high, I would have noticed. Her eyes have been clear, her spirits relatively high, and creeps from the street always cast nets when drowning.

Not only do I have a debt to repay, but she deserves this second chance. “If I do this, you have to promise you’re clean. That you’re not involved in any way.”

This time there’s no hesitation. “I swear on your stuffed giraffe. I wasn’t anywhere near Hastings last night.”

I smile at the sentiment, even though there’s nothing amusing about this situation. This is do or die. If I don’t trust her now, whatever relationship we’ve forged will be lost, like my stuffed giraffe, Bongo, whose head I ripped off the week after Rose left. I took my fury out on the innocent pile of fluff until the remnants were unsalvageable. Then I held a funeral in our yard. For him. For Rose. I’m either here for her now, or I bury her in my past, too.

I lose my Unconditional Someone.

I can’t. Not when I’ve just found her. Not when everything in my life is falling into place. She wouldn’t ask me if she were guilty, wouldn’t put me in that kind of position. She’s my sister, my blood. She’d do the same for me. She’s done way more for me.

“Fine.” I blink hard. “I’ll do it. Tell the cops you were with me.” But my pulse pounds louder than my Reagan Youth album.

“Thanks, Raven. For everything. I’ll be in touch.”

She hangs up before I can ask if her move out is permanent or how serious the charges are or what being in the wrong place really means. There’s still so much about her present life I don’t know. Aside from a glimpse of a man at my apartment, the only friend of hers I’ve met slammed a door in my face. Based on that fact and her current situation, I’d say my sister needs to rethink her priorities. I gulp, remembering her ex, Russ, saying something similar when I spoke with him. But she came to me for help. She would only do that if she truly wants this fresh start. Now I have to deal with Nico. The man who nearly broke down because he considered lying for Josh.

But that was a bigger deal with other cops involved and forced confessions. This is a small lie for my sister’s safety. A white lie. A lie so insignificant it’s a whisper in the wind. He doesn’t even have to say a thing. Just needs to let me make this choice like he made his. Support me like I would have supported him, no matter what path he chose to follow.

If he loves me, he’ll want to help.

Pacing, I wring my hands and watch the clock, spinning my thoughts, convincing myself he’ll do this thing. The seconds drag. A knock sounds, and my attention snaps to the door.

Please, let him love me.

When I open it, I tilt my head back to see Nico’s eyes. Azure waves of beauty. His gaze is bright, happy, his cut cheekbones rounded with a grin. He slips an arm around my waist and leans down but looks over my shoulder. “Rose home?”

Stressed and flustered, I shake my head.

He kisses me as though he’s starving, deep and thorough, leaving my head in the stars. He tastes like cotton candy and apple juice and giddiness. “Were you at a Princess Party?”

He chuckles against my lips. “Excuse me?”

“Lily had a Princess Party once. Her parents served juice and cupcakes and heaps of candy. We weren’t friends then, but I was a pity invite because I was in her class.”

He kisses me. Once. Twice. “All Mom had to celebrate with was apple juice and these awful Jolly Ranchers. Should I brush my teeth?”

“No. I like you sweet.” I taste him once more and then lead him inside, each step weighting my spirit until it’s dragging along the carpet. A beige mess of nerves. “How is Josh?” I ask. Delay. Delay.

“High as a kite, in a good way. Talked nonstop about that creature school. Colin and Jack kept begging him to make them creepy masks, and Mom was a puddle of tears. Wouldn’t stop hugging him. Nikki, too. Never thought I’d see this day.”

Suppressing my anxiety, I reflect his solace back at him. “Josh deserves this. Your family deserves this. I can’t wait to hug him in person.”

I try to maintain my smile, but my turmoil wins. I look at my feet, at the scuffed toes of my boots that need polishing. He takes my hands, but I don’t glance up. Instead I dig my nails into his palms and bite my lip. If this goes wrong, if he gets angry and turns me down, I could lose Rose.

“You okay?” he asks.

That’s a hard no. This will be the biggest test of our relationship. Not Aspen. Not letting him back into my life. This. Here. Right now. An X-ray of his heart. Does he love me enough to bend his rules for my family?

Wishing on a wishing star, I say, “I need your help.”

He eases a hand out of my grasp and palms my cheek, lifting my gaze. “Babe, anything. You know I’d do anything.” When I nearly sever my lip, he frowns. “Now you’re worrying me. What’s wrong?”

I swallow what little saliva I have. “Rose is in trouble.”

His eyes dart to her room, then settle on me. “Trouble how?”

“I don’t know exactly. Some guy was arrested, and he’s implicated her and some others to catch a break. But she didn’t do what he claims and she freaked and moved out because she didn’t want to drag me into it, but she’s in a real jam and asked for my help, and she’s my sister and I couldn’t say no, so I told her I’d”—I suck in a breath, my ramble not helping my cause—“I told her I’d be her alibi.”

He works his jaw, shadows casting below his cheekbones from the tension. He drops my hand. “Telling her you’d do it implies it’s a lie.”

“It isn’t the truth.” My voice squeaks.

“So it’s a lie.” His voice hardens with each word.

“But she’s innocent.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she promised. He’s just a crackhead, tossing out random names to save his neck.”

An eerie quiet expands between us. “What do you mean crackhead? What has Rose done?”

Shit. Drugs. Shitshitshit. So worried about Rose and the alibi, I didn’t connect the dots. Didn’t stop to think about how this would look to Nico. It’s the exact thing he worried about after reading my record. And I promised him all that drama was in my past. I open my mouth and close it. Nothing comes out.

“What is she charged with?” he asks again, accusation edging his tone.

There’s no easing this blow. “Selling crack.”

Nico’s face purples, the veins along his neck pulling tight. He turns away from me and grips the kitchen counter. “Fuck.” His ragged breaths sound animal, like a caged bull waiting to buck its rider. He doesn’t even look at me. “Nikki and Colin were here. In this apartment. They met Rose. In this apartment. Do you know how dangerous that is for my sister? How reckless of you?”

Oh God. If Rose is lying, he’s right. It would mean I’d broken Nico’s trust in the most hurtful way. Put Nikki at risk. But she can’t be lying. She just can’t. Lying means I am nothing to my sister. “Whatever Rose did in her past, it’s just that—the past. She swore she’s not involved.”

He slams his fist on the counter, then flips around. “Jesus, Raven. She’s feeding you crap. I told you not to trust her. Not to let her into your life. I knew she’d pull something on you.”

He’s made his feelings clear about Rose, but he doesn’t know her like I do, and his tone sets my hackles up. “She’s my sister. I would know if she were lying. I owe her.”

“No. You believe her lies because she’s your sister. You’re blind where she’s concerned. She’s not the same person she was. She’s playing you. Using your guilt.”

“What about Josh? He could’ve played you, too. But he deserves his second chance. They’re not so different.”

He steps so close and speaks so low, it’s almost intimidating. “Don’t ever compare Rose to Josh. I raised my brother. I know him. And if you think he could pull one over on me, you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.”

My blood simmers at his insinuation that Rose is beneath Josh, that her transgressions are somehow worse. But yelling at him won’t get the answer I need. I school my face and try again. “I told Rose I’d vouch for her, that I’d tell the cops we were together last night. I just need you to let it slide. Not say anything.”

I hold my breath as he squints then frowns and shakes his head. When what I’m asking sinks in, his eyes storm. “Last night?”

I nod and reach a hand toward him. “Please,” I whisper. “If I don’t do this, I lose her. It’s just a statement. No big deal.”

He curls his lip at my outstretched hand. “Lying to the cops is no big deal?” When I stay silent, he starts wearing a path on the carpet. “This is my job, Raven. This is what I do. Saying yes to her is as good as spitting in my face.”

“It’s not like that.”

He stops and jabs a finger toward me. “It’s exactly like that. And you think I’ll go along with it? That I’ll turn a blind eye?” His face contorts, disappointment shaping his rage. “I’ve never been as open with a woman as I have been with you. You’ve seen me with Tim. With my family. I’ve told you about my father and how hard I’ve worked to be a better man, and fuck—I even told you I nearly lied for Josh, how disgusted I’ve been with myself. You should know me, Raven. How could you think I’d say yes?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

Our voices have dropped, anger bleeding into resignation. There’s finality to his tone that saps my energy. I love you, I want to say. Us against the world. I cross the widening rift and place my hand over his heart. “I know how important justice and integrity are to you, but this is about family. Saving mine is more important to me than telling the truth. If you’d chosen to break the law for Josh, I would have stood by you. Why can’t you stand by me?”

He winces, like I’ve slapped him. His heart thuds harder, so strong and fast I could almost touch it. “Because you’re right. This is about family. I don’t trust yours. Not by a mile. You put Nikki in jeopardy, and you don’t even care.”

I want nothing but to taste his candy lips again, but he’s blinking like he doesn’t recognize me. And God, I’m so tired of his righteousness. Of him being so hard-nosed about everything. “I do care about Nikki, but Rose promised she’s not involved. You’re freaking out over nothing.”

He steps back, out of reach, and my arm falls to my side. Gone is his anger, all emotion wiped clean. His focused stare is unnerving. “If I were you, I’d keep the hell away from Rose. The only person she’s looking out for is herself. And us”—he motions from my chest to his—“I need some space. A break. The fact that Nikki was here, near Rose, isn’t okay. You may believe your sister, but I don’t. And asking me to lie for you, even by omission, cuts. Deep. I don’t know you as well as I thought, and you definitely don’t know me.”

Bile rises up my throat. No. Fuck, no. No, no, no. That’s not how things were supposed to go. I expected him to push back, give me hell. Not walk away because he needs a break. We’ve shared so much—at the motel, last night, and every day in between. He asked for more, and I gave him everything.

He strides toward the door before I find my voice. “You can’t leave,” I croak. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt me again.”

I’m grasping at straws, trying to figure out how things spiraled so wrong so fast. Maybe he doesn’t love me after all, doesn’t feel as strongly as I do. He never did say the words.

He spins and pins me with his gaze. “I’m not the one who did the hurting this time.”

Then he leaves.

Gone.

Shock and loss and incredulity consume me. My beige walls have never looked so stark, the tiny room massive with him gone. My hands shake. My breath trembles. Nico’s sternness just now was the same as it was with Tim, telling the kid if he blew his shot, he wouldn’t be welcome at the rec center. This wasn’t him needing a break. This was him ending things.

I walk into my room, put on the loudest, angriest music I have, and let it blare, hoping a neighbor complains. Send the cops, I think. Send back my sexy cop. But his words and tone and posture were unmistakable. He’s not returning.

Finally, the tears come.