5

 

The Price of Love

Demi

 

August

 

 

“One month.” In one month I’ll be twenty-one and legally able to take back my father’s company, his house (if you can call it that), and acreage—all of which are rightfully mine. Just the thought of Nora living high on my father’s hog all these years is enough for me to want to roast her myself and stick an apple in her mouth.

“Just thirty days.” Eva stirs her gin and tonic with a svelte red straw.

“That’s right, my stepmonster and her evil seed will never know what hit them.” I glance around the dimly lit bar located on the first level of Reeva’s thirty thousand square foot den of lasciviousness. “Who am I kidding? I fully intend on letting them know what hit them.”

“I always knew you had a little sledge hammer in you, Demi. You got a lawyer?” Eva winks at a buffed-out biker strutting by. He reeks of cheap booze and dirty sex, but neither of us can take our eyes off those patches that are plastered all over his vest. Bikers are a fascinating breed all on their own. The mob runs a deal with them—all girls half off in exchange for various goods and services. The bikers are a little surly and rough around the edges in bed but usually pretty nice—or so Eva says. I wouldn’t know. I’ve resorted back to casual work.

“There’s an attorney in Brady. He wants a ten thousand dollar retainer. Plus, I figure I’ll need about another five just to rent a room and feed myself until the rest of my money is relinquished.”

“And how many billions is that?” She drops her head back and holds a cherry over her lips as if she’s teasing herself. What she’s really doing is teasing the sexed-up biker seated to my left. He has a boyish appeal to him—bad boy. I turn my head just enough to affirm this theory, and he offers a greasy smile.

“Many.” It’s true. My father’s steel mill is worth its weight in gold—more than gold, actually. I already have a plan of action in place—fire every damn person who has anything to do with Nora or Josh. I can’t wait to boot them out on their mooching behinds. I’ve spent every day, since I’ve been back, researching, planning, plotting. Now that I’ve safely extricated myself from Gavin’s life, I’m completely focused on taking down Nora and her demonic offspring.

Gavin. I close my eyes, and my entire body sags.

“You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?” Eva spits her chewed up cherry stem at me, trying to pull me out of my Gavin funk.

“I think about him all the time. Like why in the hell did I ever end up in the arms of the man whose parents I killed?” Zoey blinks through my mind, and I blink her right back out.

“You know there’s a war in the Middle East and a gas main that just blew a hole in a factory in China. You should probably blame yourself for that, too. Why not?” She takes a sip of my drink and pushes it back to me. “You’ve got a flare for the dramatic. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“No—because for one, it’s not true. I have a flare for ending people’s lives. If you’re smart, you’ll run for cover.”

She rolls her eyes. “Point in case. You ever plan on paying Mr. Jackson a visit and laying it all out on the line? I bet he could let it go if you can.”

“It’s case in point, and, to answer your question—no.” I shift in my seat as our biker buddy takes the opportunity to rub his thigh over mine. I scoot to the far end of my barstool. “You don’t get it, do you?” I hiss at Eva. “I’m cursed. Believe me, the best thing I ever did was run and run fast.” I sped down that mountain with a death wish—ironic since I seem to make everyone else’s come true. “Who knows what would have happened to that poor man if I stuck around another minute. A tree might have fallen over his cabin and crushed him to death.”

She purses her lips, unconvinced. “I bet that boy feels as if a tree fell right over his heart. I bet he’s already crushed to death on the inside. Love doesn’t melt away—it stays, it condenses into something potent. It just gets stronger, Demi. What you had was magic. It makes no sense to run away from something like that.”

Magic. A sweet wave of wanting comes over me at the thought of the magic we could have made, that we were about to make before I discovered what havoc I wreaked in their lives.

“I wonder if Gavin is making magic with other girls?” It comes out more rhetorical, heartbroken. Gavin said we were the same person, only by some stroke of luck I seem to have changed. I haven’t slept with a single person since I left Loveless. I guess he changed me after all. Just the memory of his warm skin, the subtle cologne that cast me under its spell, night after night, it’s almost enough to carry me through the barbed teeth of each lonely day. Almost.

Reeva rolls up in her wheelchair, and we take a seat at a nearby table together.

“How are my two favorite girls?” Her hair is far too curly and far too short. She’s got that Orphan Annie vibe going on, and it’s always been a little unnerving for me. It doesn’t help that it’s red as a fire engine and screams bad Halloween wig even though it’s homegrown. Reeva is beautiful even though her MS has worn her down. She’s less into making herself look good than she is into making herself feel better these days, and, really, that’s the way it should be. Less lipstick, more massages. Reeva has two regulars she’s held onto, a mayor from two towns over and a fisherman that shows up twice a year when he hits a big blue fin payday.

“We’re just freaking dandy.” I pluck the straw from Eva’s drink and roll it between my fingers. A nervous habit I picked up when I started working here. Some people smoke, I roll trash between my fingers to calm and soothe me.

“Demi is still brooding over that lumberjack she dumped.” Eva pecks an air kiss my way.

“I didn’t dump him.” Not intentionally. “I killed his parents. There’s quite a difference. One involves hurt feelings, and the other involves the inability to feel forever.”

Reeva flinches. She already knows every last detail. My bestie here makes sure Reeva is in on all the house gossip, including mine. Not that anyone really cares about Gavin and me. Except for Eva of course—and, well, me.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Her eyes linger over mine. “You know how I feel about love.”

I nod. “It happens once, and, if you lose it, you pay the rest of your days.” She’s said those words more than a couple times. I think she’s speaking from experience, but she’d never admit it.

“True enough.” She toasts me with Eva’s drink and takes a sip. “Now, listen. I came to talk about what you’re expecting to happen right around your birthday.”

“I get the money from my father’s estate, and I give you a hundred thousand dollars for putting up with me all these years.” I’m happy to review the facts with her. When I showed up on her doorstep a few months ago, Reeva reluctantly let me slip back to casual standing. I’d like nothing more than to hand her a big fat check for that.

“Make it two.” She gives a knowing smile.

Reeva. I want to laugh or scream for being stupid enough to ever get mixed up with this hoe-haven to begin with. I wonder if there’s a threat in there somewhere? Knowing Reeva, there’s not. She has enough medical bills to wallpaper this place, twice.

“I’ll make it two.” For as much money as my father’s estate is worth, I’m sure it’s less than half a day’s interest.

“What do you need?” She squints at me as if trying to read my life’s story in my face. I wonder if she sees Josh with his pants down in one eye and Nora in the other with a straight jacket waiting for me. “What’s stopping you from cutting the balls off those bastards that stole your daddy’s money?”

“Fifteen thousand dollars. You want to give me a loan?” I’ve already asked. Reeva personally doesn’t have two dimes to rub together, at least not that many dimes.

“What are you going to do?” She lowers her chin because I know what she’s asking.

I glance around at the sea of men, laughing, carousing, gargling with gin as they wait their turn for the ride of a lifetime. This of course is a very bad plan B.

I was sort of buying time, waiting for a miracle from up above.

“I guess my options are limited,” I whisper.

But I’m still hoping for a miracle.