CHAPTER FIVE

 

Luca

 

MY EYES SPRING OPEN, and I’m met with darkness. Not the pitch-black of the dream I just woke from, but the usual darkness at night in my room. I stare up at the ceiling while my racing heart has a chance to calm down.

In my dream, I was back in the black nothingness filled with those tiny specks of light. This time when she appeared, I called her by her name. The sad look in her eyes disappeared for a fraction of a moment and something light and beautiful lit her face. It was the first time I had seen anything other than darkness in her expression. She was beautiful before, but when the misery wasn’t present, she was absolutely stunning.

I was surprised when I moved forward and her translucent form stayed in place. Her amber eyes watched me as I took the steps separating us. Her wildflower scent assailed me when I stopped only inches from her.

She didn’t speak, but she didn’t need to. The ever-present torment in her eyes spoke for her. It told tales of unspoken pain and unbearable sadness. The need to reach out to her, to pull her into my arms and care for her was crippling. The moment I lifted my hand and tried to grab hers, it slipped through her form, leaving behind a chill rushing through my body and a pain so sharp in my chest it had me sucking back a hiss.

“Jules.” My voice broke saying her name.

Her eyes closed as if she was relishing the sound of my voice saying her name. When she opened them a moment later, they grew wide, right before she threw back her head and screamed so loud it pierced my ears. Her back bowed backward, her arms thrown out beside her. I felt completely fucking helpless as agony tore through her.

Almost as fast as it started, the screaming stopped, and she burst into thousands of pieces. She left me feeling broken along with her.

Back in my room, the darkness gives way to the slowly rising sun. I rub the spot on my chest that hurts and pull in a deep breath.

Last night at the hospital, I stayed for hours watching over her, until I knew I had to leave before a different nurse entered the room. They may not be as susceptible to having me there, and I’d prefer to not get caught because I’m not done visiting Jules. I need to stay off radar.

Rubbing my hands down my face, I get out of bed and throw on a pair of jogging pants and a white T-shirt before going to the bathroom. After taking a piss, brushing my teeth, and splashing cold water on my face, I grab my phone from the nightstand and head out to the front door.

My morning routine usually consists of a workout session, but today I need fresh air, so I opt to go for a run instead.

My feet pound the pavement as I take the broken down and neglected streets of southside Silver Hills. Sweat beads my forehead and slides down my cheeks, and I welcome the new ache forming in my chest. This burning pain I can handle, and even welcome.

I pass by old abandoned buildings barely standing, along with a few shops that still manage to stay open. The sorry excuse for an elementary school the city refuses to remodel flies by. There’s a couple of cars in the empty lot, parked driver window to driver window. Drug dealers making a deal, no doubt. School doesn’t start for another hour, so there’s no kids present, but the sight still disgusts me.

I round a corner and the tracks that separate one side of town from the other loom ahead. When I get within a few feet of them, I stop. Bending over, I rest my hands on my knees to give myself a few minutes to catch my breath.

When I stand back up, I use the bottom of my shirt to wipe away the sweat coating my face. I look past the railroad tracks to the north side and notice the differences. The other side has solid roads with no cracks or potholes. They don’t have trash littering the ground. Even the fucking grass is greener on the other side. I roll my eyes at the stupid pun. It’s like the city council has forgotten this part of town even exists.

I’m not bitter about the place I live or how I grew up. Mom and Dad did the best they could with what they had. What pisses me off is there are good families that live on the south side. Good families that have bad shit happen to them because of the piss-poor way the city takes care of this side.

I turn on my heel and start back toward home. Five miles seems like a long way, especially after already running the same distance, but the strain on my muscles and the pang in my ribs feel good. Better than the pain I feel every time I wake from a dream.

I’m halfway home when I spot a familiar car coming toward me. It pulls to a stop on the opposite side of the road, and I walk over. Beck, a good friend of mine, throws his fist out the window and I bump mine against it.

“Hey, man. How’s it going?”

“Same shit,” I grunt.

He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket, sticks one in his mouth, then lights it. Through a puff of smoke, he asks, “How’s Ella?”

My jaw tightens at the mention of my sister.

“She’s good. Bruises and scrapes will be there for a while, and she’s sore, but you know how tough she is.”

“That I do,” he says with a nod.

In our teens, Beck was over at the house a lot. Theo and I weren’t like most teens with younger siblings. We never cared if Ella was around when friends were over. Our way of thinking, it was better she was with us than out on the streets with her own friends. With Theo and me around, we knew she was protected. That included Beck’s protection. He’s one of the good guys.

“You take care of Chase?”

I give him a look that portrays my answer.

“Shouldn’t have even asked,” he mutters.

“I need you to do me a favor. If you see Cora or Chase on the south side, call me. And pass that shit around.”

“You got it. But you gotta promise if you go after him again, I’m with you. It’s fucked you didn’t call when you took care of him the first time.” He gives me a level look.

There’s a reason I didn’t call him. Beck may be a good guy, but he’s also a hothead. When provoked, he doesn’t know how to control his temper. I don’t know if he zones out and doesn’t realize what he’s doing, or if he just sucks at locking his shit down, but either way, I’m not sure Chase would have survived our visit had Beck been there. I wouldn’t give a fuck if Chase bit the bullet, but I’m not taking that route in my life unless I’m forced to. Getting away with beating the shit out of a guy is easier than getting away with murder. And there’s no doubt Spencer would work ‘til his last breath searching for who took his son out.

Even so, if Chase shows his face around here again, or if I even get a hint of him disobeying what I told him, God fucking help him. I won’t hesitate to call Beck in and we’ll both go pay him another visit. One he won’t be leaving still drawing breath.

I jerk my chin. “Done.”

He takes another drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. “I’ll be in next week for you to finish the dragon.”

“Sounds good.”

Beck is one of the few people who can just walk in the shop without an appointment. After all, he’s damn near covered from head to toe in ink and Ink Me has done them all.

We part a few minutes later, him driving off in one direction, me running in the other. Back at the house, I take a shower, grab some coffee, and sit at the bar to draw for a couple of hours before heading into the shop.

 

 

“YOU GOT ALL YOUR stuff together?” I ask Aria after walking into the break room at Ink Me.

“Yep!” she shouts. She jumps down from the chair at the table and starts stuffing the picture she was drawing into her backpack. I get a glimpse of it and feel pride settle in my bones. Theo’s drawing skills aren’t bad, but Ella and I trump him in that department. Theo’s talent is computer shit. Aria has obviously inherited the natural ability to draw from Dad, Ella, and me.

He dropped her off an hour ago while I was in the middle of putting a vine of dead flowers on a woman’s back. Considering Ella was just beaten to a bloody pulp five days ago, I was going to cancel the babysitting gig to cover her shifts, but Ella, being the stubborn woman that she is, insisted on coming to work. It’s her first day back, and the only reason I agreed to leave and still stick with the plan is because Jazz was coming in. I finished the tat fifteen minutes ago, ten minutes after Jazz showed. Ella threatened to kick my ass if I didn’t leave. She’s got the stupid idea that she should feel guilty since I’ve been working thirteen-hour days for the last four to cover her shifts. It’s not like she asked for that shit to happen. Besides, I’ve done it multiple times before. But her jaw was set, and I knew she wasn’t budging. Ella’s tenacious as hell when she wants to be, and as the baby of the family she gets her way most of the time.

With her right in front of me, I called Vicki, who said she already had plans to come to the shop after work to make sure Ella doesn’t overwork herself. It earned me a muttered “fuck you” and the middle finger as she walked away. Vicki is a nurse at one of the low-income clinics, so I know Ella will be taken care of.

I take Aria’s backpack from her. “Why don’t we go say goodbye to Aunt Ella?” Before she runs from the room, I tack on, “Quietly. She’s with a client right now.”

She turns in the doorway and says, “Don’t forget Goodie!”

I eye the cage holding the little shit, tempted to forget him, and I swear he’s smiling smugly at me.

“You better keep your teeth to yourself this time or you’ll be a dead rodent,” I mutter, then grab the handle.

I follow behind Aria, who dramatically tiptoes down the hallway. I chuckle as her arms go up and down with each step, like she’s trying to sneak up on someone. The buzzing of Ella’s tattoo machine stops when she rounds the corner into her station. Ella is just snapping off her gloves when I look inside. Normally I wouldn’t let her go into a room while someone is working, but Miles is a regular and has kids of his own. Aria’s been to his house before to play with them.

“Hey, Ree Ree, you leavin’?” Ella asks, pulling Aria into a hug.

“Yep! We’re going to have spaghetti and watch movies all night!”

Ella smiles at her excitement. “You better make sure Luca stops and gets your favorite ice cream. You can’t watch a movie without ice cream.”

She leans forward like she’s going to tell her a secret, but when she speaks, it’s not very quiet. “I was going to ask him when we leave.”

I notice Ella’s wince when Aria flings her arms around her neck and squeezes tightly. The bruises on her face have turned from a deep purplish red to an ugly brown and green. She’s got a couple of small bandages on her face, but luckily the swelling in her eye is no longer present. She still has her wrist and arm wrapped in gauze, but I know that’s for sanitary purposes, since there are open scratches.

I’m just about to extract Aria from Ella when she shoots me a warning look and pulls back herself.

“You be good for Uncle Luca, okay?”

She nods. “I will.” Leaning forward, Aria places a gentle kiss on Ella’s cheek where there’s a patch of bruised skin.

“Love you, Aunt Ella.”

Ella’s eyes soften. “Love you too, Ree Ree.”

“Bye, Miles!”

“See ya later, Aria,” Miles responds and holds his hand out to her to slap.

We leave and twenty minutes later, I’m pulling up to my house, a pint of birthday-cake-flavored ice cream in tow, to see Mom’s little Toyota parked in the driveway. Even though I wasn’t expecting her, it’s no surprise she stopped by. I know why she’s here, and it’s confirmed when I open the front door.

“Hi, munchkin,” Mom croons, slinging a hand towel over her shoulder as she walks out of the kitchen. “Come give Gamma a hug and kiss.”

Aria runs across the room and flings herself at Mom. I don’t know why Theo asked me to watch her, not that I’m complaining, when we all know Mom would jump at any opportunity to spend time with her granddaughter.

“Are you here to watch movies with us, Gamma?” Aria asks after she pulls back. “Me and Luca are going to watch Willy Wonka.”

Anytime Aria’s at my house we watch the older classic kid movies.

Mom smiles down at her, pushing back the bangs that’ve fallen into her eyes. “Not tonight, munchkin. Your Pa is taking me out on a date tonight.”

I raise my brows at the eager look in her eyes. Mom’s always been the type to refuse eating out, even on the rare occasions we could afford to. She said her family would always have a healthy home-cooked meal on the table each night. Her lip curled with disdain when she thought of a stranger cooking for her family. Cooking was something she enjoyed doing. It was just another way she showed us her love.

“Your father can be very persuasive,” she says with a shrug and a twinkle in her eye.

My lip curls. I know the persuasive ways she’s referring to. Mom and Dad have always been touchy. Not in an inappropriate way in front of us kids, but there’s been plenty of times when Dad would walk up behind her and peck the back of her neck while we were at the table doing homework. The walls were thin in our house, so Mom’s giggles carried from their bedroom into mine and Theo’s. Luckily, they were quieter when they did… other things.

I shudder at the thought of what those “other things” are.

Mom laughs, knowing exactly where my mind went.

“Anyway.” She looks back down to Aria, “I stopped by to put on the spaghetti for your uncle.” She pinches one of her cheeks. “And to see my beautiful Aria for a few minutes.”

I put Goodie’s cage down on the coffee table then go to the kitchen and throw the ice cream in the freezer. “You got time to watch her while I grab a quick shower?”

“Sure, honey. You go right ahead. Aria can show me her latest drawing.”

I leave the two at the small kitchen table, Aria jabbering away about some new friend she made at school, and walk down the short hallway to my bedroom.

Ten minutes later, I’m back in the living room just in time to see Mom setting a bowl of noodles and sauce on the table in front of Aria. She kisses the top of her head, then turns and grabs another plate piled high with spaghetti from the counter, setting it down on the table along with a plate of garlic bread.

“Mom, you didn’t have to make me a plate. I’m thirty-two. I think I can manage.”

She scoffs, as if I’ve lost my mind.

“You’ve worked all day, Luca. If I’m here after you’ve worked all day and there’s food, you best bet I’ll be making your plate. Now, sit. I’ve got to get running or your dad will come hunt me down.”

Now I give her a look that says she’s lost her mind.

“I’ll walk you out. Then I’ll come eat.”

Knowing it’s pointless to argue, because there’s no way I’m letting my mom walk to her car by herself after dark in this neighborhood, she bends to place another kiss to the top of Aria’s head.

“You tell your dad to bring you by this weekend, okay, Aria?”

After slurping a noodle into her mouth, Aria nods. “Okay, Gamma. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetie.”

She grabs her purse off the couch and leads the way to her car. I pull open Mom’s door and she throws her purse to the passenger seat before turning back to me.

“Are you closing down the shop on Thanksgiving?” she asks.

“Would you let me keep it open?”

Her eyes sparkle as she laughs. “As long as you don’t mind the shop being invaded with food and family, then sure, you can keep it open.”

I prop my hand on the top of her car. “Then why even ask?”

“Because I know how much the place means to you, so you should have that option.”

I grunt. Not much of a choice. I have no doubt Mom would transfer all the food into Tupperware containers, lug it all down to the shop, and demand that’s where we’re all eating. Which would defeat the purpose of keeping the doors open. I wouldn’t get shit done.

I lean down and kiss her cheek, then step back from the car. “You already know my answer, Mom. Be safe driving home and have fun on your date.”

She gives me a cheeky grin. “Just making sure.”

I wait until she’s pulling away from the house before going back inside. Aria’s already halfway done with her food, half of which seems to be on her face, by the time I take my own seat.

“Good?” I inquire, picking up my fork.

“The best!” she answers around a mouthful.

I chuckle and dig in. My cooking isn’t bad, but mom’s is the shit. She’s had plenty of years to perfect it. Her own mother was big on food, and she passed that down to her daughter.

Once we’re finished, I load the dishwasher while Aria takes a bath. Hearing her giggles through the partially open door as she plays with her Barbies brings a smile to my face. I always enjoy the time I get to spend with her. I used to want kids when I was younger, but the older I get, the more I realize I don’t want to bring a child into the world I live in. Too much bad shit happens on a daily basis.

“You about done in there?” I yell after the dishes are finished.

“Yes!”

I grab Aria’s ice cream, a spoon, and put both down on the coffee table. Aria comes out minutes later in her long pink nightgown, hair dripping and soaking the material. I put our movie for the night into the DVD player, then take a seat. She hands me the towel and brush before turning and jumping on my lap. It’s always the same when she spends the night. She bathes, then I take care of her hair.

After I drape the towel over her head, I rub vigorously. Aria giggles and hums, making the sound come out distorted. I laugh at her childlike behavior. Once her hair’s as dry as I can get it, I run the brush through the tangles, starting at the ends and working my way up. The braid comes next, and I tie it off with the band wrapped around the brush.

“Thanks, Uncle Luca.”

She hops down from my lap, grabs her ice cream, and climbs back up beside me. I prop my feet up on the coffee table and get comfortable.

“Don’t forget the blanket. You know the ice cream will make you cold.”

She pulls the blanket off the end of the couch and starts arranging it around herself. My heart warms when she puts a section over my lap down to my knees.

“You gotta have some too.”

Even though I don’t need it, I let her do her thing. Aria is a very caring little girl, and there’s no way I would disturb that trait by telling her I’m fine without it.

I wait patiently until she’s finished and settled against my side before dropping my arm to her shoulders and tugging her closer to me. She opens her carton of ice cream and puts the lid on the blanket beside her.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Grabbing the remote off the arm of the couch, I press Play and settle in for a night of short orange people, bratty children, and rivers of chocolate.