Becca
“You look different.” Cindy regarded me, her knowing eyes sweeping over my face. “Wait a minute, did you and Evan make up? Is he taking you somewhere nice?”
“No. I’m going out actually.”
“You are?”
I laughed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Her face softened. “Hey, sugar, a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do, but where are you going on a Thursday at nine?”
“Just to see a band.”
“A band, hey? Sounds like my kind of bar.”
The corners of my lips lifted in a smirk. “Shame you have to stay and lock up then.”
She laughed this time. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but I like it. You can’t let life drag you down. Learned that the hard way one too many times.”
I smiled; if only she knew.
“Well, you have a good night. Don’t go getting into any trouble.”
“As if,” I called out as I made my way out of the diner. The cab was already waiting, and I opened the door and climbed in. “Teller’s Bar, please.”
The cab whirred into motion, and I texted Mom to remind her I wouldn’t be back until later. She hadn’t been too impressed when I came home late on Tuesday, but she didn’t push me. Not after everything. I guess when your father lied to you, it earned you some level of freedom.
I’d known when Malachi told me that the bar had live bands Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays that I’d return to Teller’s. Unlike Tuesday, though, when I’d been in simple jeans and a tank top with diner-scented hair, I had brought a small bag to work tonight. Five minutes in the staff bathroom, and I had managed to tame my ponytail into a messy bun and shimmy into some skintight black jeans paired with a khaki knit sweater that hung off one shoulder.
Nervous energy hummed through me. I’d never been to a bar alone before, except those couple of times at The Vault, but even then, I’d been meeting people. I didn’t even know if Malachi would be there tonight. He had ignored me all day at school again, so I wasn’t holding my breath.
When the cab turned off the main road and pulled in the dirt parking lot at the side of Teller’s, I paid and climbed out. A crowd of people hung around outside, smoking and drinking, but paid me no attention as I walked toward the door. A security guy was stationed at the door, the same one as Tuesday, but he waved me inside without so much as a second glance. A good-sized crowd had already gathered, and my eyes swept the room as I looked for Malachi. He wasn’t here, but it was too late to worry now. So, feeling emboldened, I moved to the bar and ordered a beer, checking my cell phone for reception and battery. I was okay on both counts.
“One beer.” The bartender placed the bottle down in front of me.
“Thanks.”
“You were here Tuesday with Malachi, right?”
I nodded, taking a sip of my beer.
“He’s good people. You two dating?”
I almost choked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I shook my head. “Just friends.”
He smiled, throwing a towel over his shoulder, and extended his hand. “I’m Jace.”
“Becca.” I shook his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Becca. Are you expecting Malachi?”
“I’m not sure.”
He regarded me with a curious expression on his face. “Well, enjoy the show. The Deep are the main event tonight, and they always pull in a good crowd. Any problems, you just let me know, okay? Things can get a little crazy when they’re in town.”
I grinned. It was easy to see why Malachi liked it here. People didn’t ask questions, and they didn’t judge; they just accepted you. It was about the music although I was unsure whether to be excited or wary after Jace’s warning. But it was only a band, right? How wild could things get?
Forty-five minutes later, I was coated in a sheen of sweat and understood exactly what Jace had meant. The room moved as one, bouncing and thrumming to the heavy beat of the four-piece band on the stage. I’d started on the edge of the crowd but soon ended up crammed between two imposing guys with gauges in their ears and wearing more eyeliner than I was. But by that point, I was too busy cheering and jumping as hard as everyone else to be intimidated.
“We’re The Deep, and you’ve been amazing. We’re going to take five but don’t go anywhere.”
The crowd began to disperse for the bar and the restrooms, and I spun around, catching my breath. A familiar face stood out from across the room, and I bounded over to Malachi. “You came.”
“So did you.”
I smiled, the two beers still in my system. I wasn’t drunk by any stretch of the imagination, but the atmosphere combined with the heat and the pulse of the music … Well, it had my adrenaline pumping.
“Having fun?” Folding his arms over his chest, he quirked his eyebrow at me.
“Actually, I am. It isn’t my usual taste in music, but I like it.” I jammed my hands into my back pockets and swayed from side to side as the band’s last song stuck in my head. I’d discovered quickly that the bass invaded your thoughts to the point of forcing everything else out. Some people might have found it overwhelming, but I found it therapeutic, and oddly, I felt more at peace among the noise and crazy than I had in a while.
“Listen, Becca, about school—”
My hand shot out. “Don’t. I get it, and it’s fine.” He was loyal to Scarlett, to the others. Just as Lilly had been in the end. People had picked their side, and it wasn’t mine. Even Vin had started to pay me less and less attention. Not that I’d made it easy for them to try to remain my friend.
Malachi ran a brisk hand over his head and nodded. “The band is back on; you should go enjoy it.” He motioned over my shoulder.
“Cool. I’ll see you around.”
As I walked back to the center of the room, I felt his heavy gaze on me, but I didn’t look back. He’d shared this place with me because he got it. He understood I needed an escape—away from the people at school, away from Evan, away from who I was. And in a strange way, it was enough.
~
The crowd roared as the opening beats of the last song played out, and anticipation hung heavy in the air.
“Teller’s, it’s time to get fucked up.” The lead vocalist’s raspy voice filled the room, sending everyone into chaos and jostling and smashing into one another. An elbow caught me in the side as I tried to keep steady among the crush, shooting pain through my ribs. That would bruise. Clutching my side, I widened my eyes at the crazy unfolding around me, and part of me wondered if I should edge my way back to where it was less busy, but then someone’s body crowded mine. Malachi’s chest hit my back just as it had on Tuesday. I glanced at him and saw a grim expression painted on his face, the one that told me it was time to hightail it out of there. But I just grinned like a crazy person and carried on bouncing to the beat, ignoring the ache in my side and the grown men and women around me who were generally banging the crap out of one another. When the tempo finally started to slow, so did the adrenaline pumping through me, and Malachi gripped my elbow, leading me out of the crowd and toward the bar.
“Here.” He handed me a bottle of water, lid unscrewed.
I drank down as much as I could stomach and blinked a couple of times, glancing back at the dance floor. It had calmed, but a lot of people were still hanging around.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.” I didn’t meet his eyes. The truth was I didn’t know what to feel. Right there, in the thick of it, I’d felt alive. But now, not so much. I would be sore tomorrow.
“Come on; I’ll give you a ride home.”
Jace called out goodbye as we made our way to the door, and I threw him a small wave.
Malachi was quiet on the ride back, and my energy was depleted, so I didn’t make conversation. I watched the town roll by, dark and quiet with only the odd car on the road. When we pulled up outside my house, I grumbled my thanks and started to climb out.
“I know you’re hurting, Becca, but shutting everyone out isn’t going to change anything. Porter is—”
I turned to face Malachi and sighed. “We’re not friends. I appreciate what you did, taking me there, but we’re not friends, Malachi. Thanks for the ride.” I hurried out of the car and kept walking, refusing to let the guilt in. These people—who took me under their wing—weren’t really my friends. They’d put up with me because Scarlett asked it of them. People kept saying it was to protect me from Kendall, but she came after me anyway. They hadn’t saved me; they only placed me further in the middle of some high school vendetta.
The door swung open before I could dig my key out of my pocket, and Mom’s disapproving eyes glared back at me. She didn’t speak as I slipped past her. I was tired, exhausted from both my shift at the diner and the crazy at the bar. All I wanted was to clean the makeup off my face, swallow some Advil, and climb in bed, but she had other ideas.
“Where were you?”
So much for her giving me space. “Out.” I sighed, grabbing the stair rail, careful to angle my sore side away from her.
“Becca, you might be eighteen, but this is unacceptable. Do you know how worried I’ve been?”
My head bowed, and for a second, I felt the weight of her disappointment, but then I remembered how she’d sided with Dad since we discovered the truth about Kane Larson.
“He’s awake, Mom. Do you know what that is doing to me? Do you know what that’s like? It was bad enough when I thought he was in a coma; I had to live with what I did every day, but now? Now he’s awake ...” My voice trailed off as I held her gaze, fighting back the rush of tears.
“Becca.” She came toward me but paused when I reared back. If she touched me, I would break, and that wasn’t an option.
Her eyes softened a fraction as she spoke. “I want nothing more than to go back in time and erase Kane Larson from our lives. I blame myself, you know, for being too hard on you, demanding too much. Perhaps you wouldn’t have ...” Her voice cracked, and she released a heavy sigh.
“It doesn’t matter. We can’t change the past, and now you have to live with the consequences of your actions. We all do. But your father has sacrificed so much, given up so much, to keep you safe. You have to trust him, sweetie; you have to forgive him.”
I stared at her—my mother, the woman supposed to love me unconditionally—and wanted to scream. Even now, she still didn’t get it. She’d been there when I sat down in front of my parents and told them about my sordid affair with Kane, told them how what started out as fun became something twisted and volatile. But Mom saw the world in her own strange way, and for her, brushing it aside and referring to it as a lapse in my judgment made it easier for her to swallow. But it lived in me, twisting and tightening around my veins, suffocating me.
We left Montecito so I could escape, so I could put it all behind me, but finding that photo pinned to my locker only confirmed my fears. I couldn’t run or hide or bury the past because even if no one else outside my family knew about that night, I knew.
And I couldn’t outrun that.