I sigh and run my hand through my hair. Either way I need to know. “Are you going to talk to me?”
Trip flexes his fingers around the steering wheel. “About what?”
“You know exactly what. Are you going to tell me what that cop meant and how he knows so much about you?”
He blows a rush of air through his nose. “Can we talk about this after we get the Jackson situation handled? Everyone is already on edge and I don’t want to add to it. After that, I promise I’ll explain everything to you.”
I stare at him for a long moment, deciding if I can wait that long to know. Not knowing what his secret is makes my mind conjure up a million different things.
He glances over. “Please?”
I sigh. It’s not ideal because I want to know now, but if I don’t like what I hear, I don’t see how I can make it through all the paperwork down at the police station. “Okay. Fine. But as soon as we’re done, we’re talking about this.”
He reaches over and takes my hand, raising it to his lips and kissing my knuckles. “We will. It’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now. I’ll be glad when everything is out in the open.”
Trip pulls into the parking lot of the redbrick building and cuts the engine. The cop we followed pulls around the back, probably to unload his prisoner. I hop out of the car and glance around until I spot Max heading towards me. The remnants of the last attack from Jackson still cover his face. The bruises have turned from black to yellow, and have nearly disappeared, but he’s got a newly busted lip thanks to Jackson. I’m ashamed all this happened to him, but one good thing came out of it. Max’s parents finally found out that he’s gay. His deepest secret that he never wanted them to know is finally out in the open and the reaction Max feared never came. Both of his parents fully accepted the fact that their son was gay, and said they had suspected so for a long time. Max has been the happiest I’ve ever seen him. That is, until just a little while ago when he was reminded that not all people are so open-minded.
Trip rushes over and wraps his arm around my shoulders and says to Max, “Let’s go end this.”
Fluorescent lights illuminate the light-green brick walls inside the building. The three of us make our way to the front desk—the same one we were at when Max last filed a report.
The same heavy-set cop with the mustache greets us at the front desk. “You three back again?”
“Yes, sir. We’re here to press charges against the guy that we got the restraining order for last week,” Trip informs him.
The officer types a few words into his computer. “Ah, yes. Mr. Cruze. I see they just brought him in. Go ahead and tell me what happened.”
I listen as both Max and Trip recount what took place leading up to the fight. I’m so proud of Max as I listen to him bravely tell the officer everything Jackson said to him. I’m glad he’s finally standing up for himself.
Trip on the other hand seems rather angry and annoyed talking about Jackson. I can tell pushing the issue of the fight isn’t something he really wants, but feels obligated to do.
“Let me get all this filed. Go ahead and have a seat.” He nods toward the row of plastic chairs against the wall.
“Wonder how long this is going to take,” Max says with mild annoyance in his voice. “I want to get this over with.”
Just as I attempt to comfort Max, I hear my name being called from across the room. “Holly. Hey, Holly!”
I whip my head towards the frantic voice and my eyes widen as I watch an officer walk Grace up to a desk parallel to the reception desk. Her dirty-blonde hair is matted into clumps and the dingy-white tank-top she’s wearing falls off her left shoulder. She looks like hell, and God knows she probably hasn’t eaten or showered in days. The urge to not acknowledge my mother’s existence washes through me. It hurts to see her. It’s a reminder that she loves drugs more than me.
Whatever she did to land herself in here is deserved. Besides, she should be used to this by now. I can’t even begin to count the number of collect phone calls Dad receives from this place.
I turn to walk away without saying a word, pulling Trip along with me, but what she says stops me in my tracks. “Holly, please! Don’t let me die in here. They’re going to lock me up for a while this time. I need bail money. Call Bill. He’ll get me out.”
I spin on my heel. “Detoxing won’t kill you, Grace. It’ll do you some good to be in here for a while and get clean. Don’t call the house this time. Dad doesn’t need to get involved in your crap.”
Grace fidgets under my stare, and her cheeks sink in even more when she frowns while she rocks back and forth on her heels. “Please, Holly. I’m dying. I have HIV, and I don’t have much time. Don’t let me rot in this jail like an animal. I’m still your mother. Don’t you care if I die?”
My heart leaps into my throat and Trip’s arm tightens around my waist. Did I just hear her right?
“No.” I shake my head. “You’re lying. This is another trick to make me feel sorry for you. This is the same shit you pull on my dad, and I won’t let you do this to me. You’re already dead to me, Grace. Do you hear me? Dead.”
She wipes her nose over and over while she stares dead into my eyes. “I deserve that. I’m a horrible person and a shitty mother, but you look like you turned out all right. Me staying away was the best thing. Bill knew that, which is why he still helps me. I swear to you that I’m telling you the truth. Bill knows all about it and refuses to let me die alone in a gutter some place like I deserve, but he won’t let me come back home either.” Grace sighs and wipes a couple tears out of her eyes. “He’s forgiven me for making him sick. I hope one day you will too. I’m begging you to call him. He’ll come get me.”
My entire body tenses as her words sink in. This isn’t real. Dad wouldn’t do that to me. He wouldn’t be this sick and not tell me about it. He has the flu or something—that’s what he said. I’m not believing a word that comes out of her mouth unless I hear them straight from Dad.
Tears flow down my face and I drop my head, wishing they would just lock Grace up already. I don’t want to stand here and listen to any more of her lies.
It’s as if my prayers have been answered. I hear a male voice order, “Time to go, Pearson.”
“Holly! Please let him know! I’m begging you!” Those are the last words I hear as my mother is carted off to a cell, somewhere in the building.
I don’t know what’s going to happen to her, and I’ll probably go to hell for saying this, but I don’t really care either. As long as she and her lies stay out of my life, things will be fine.
“You okay?” Trip whispers in my ear while he tugs me against his chest.
I sniff and attempt to wipe the moisture from my eyes. “Yeah. I hate her. I can’t believe she would tell a lie like that. She’s insane. I’m just ready to get out of here.”
“Excuse me, officer? Can we go now or are we waiting on something?” Trip questions the cop.
The cop picks up the phone. “King? Yeah. The people involved with the Cruze case are set to go. Did you still want to talk with them? Okay.” He turns his gaze to us. “Officer King will be right up.”
Trip nods and he looks at me and shrugs. “Guess we can’t leave yet.”
My shoulders slump in disappointment. The longer I sit here, the longer all the unanswered questions I have from this evening are going to eat away at my brain. Trip and my father both have a lot of explaining to do. “I hope he hurries.”
A few moments after Trip and I take a seat next to Max, Officer King comes through a door located in the back office. Next to the other officers in the room, I notice just how much younger he is.
King removes his hat and tucks it under his left arm while he holds some paper and a pen in the other. “I’m sorry to keep you. That Cruze guy is a piece of work. A demanding man, isn’t he?”
Max chuckles next to me. “He’s the biggest asshole I know.”
“I won’t say the biggest, but he’s in the running.” The cop sits down next to Trip and lays his hat on the empty chair beside him. “I know this is unprofessional, but I’m a huge fan and I wondered if I could get your autograph.”
My brow furrows and I press my lips into a tight line as I wait for Trip’s reaction. What in the hell is this guy talking about?
Trip pauses for a long moment, and then he removes his arms from my shoulders and reaches for the paper and pen. “Who do I make it out to?”
My mouth drops open and I stare at this complete stranger right next to me.
F
uck. This is not how I wanted Holly to find out about me.
“Make it out to Ben, please,” Officer King says as I click the pen.
I scroll my autograph onto the blank piece of paper while I feel Holly’s glare burning into me. She looks over my shoulder and reads the words I wrote: Ben— Thanks for rocking with Black Falcon!
Best, Trip Douglas I hand him back the paper and pen and rake my fingers through my hair. He smiles as he reads what I wrote. “Hell yeah. I’m framing this shit.”
I throw up a metal horn and tell him, “Rock on, brother.”
He quickly stands and slaps his hat back on his head. “I’ll try to get them to hold Mr. Cruze as long as I can, but in all likelihood it won’t be that long. If you can Mr. Douglas, I would keep your distance from him. Celebrity or not, your criminal record in this case isn’t good. A judge will likely side with him since this would be your second offense in a domestic violence case.”
Damn that Jessica. Will this shit continue to haunt my ass for the rest of my life? Cheating slut caused me to have a permanent blemish with the law.
I reach out and shake Officer King’s hand. “Thanks, man. I appreciate the heads up.”
“No worries. Call me up here at the station if you need anything else.”
“Will do.”
As the cop leaves us alone, I sigh, knowing it’s time to face the firing squad. I turn towards Holly. Both she and Max stare at me like I grew a third eye. “I can explain.”
“Work for Black Falcon, huh?” Holly asks with heavy sarcasm in her voice.
I swallow. “I know you’re pissed. I should’ve told you before, but I had my reasons.”
Max throws up his hands. “Wait. So you’re in the band, Black Falcon?”
I nod. “Yeah. I’m the drummer.”
“Fucking rad. Holly, didn’t you know?” Max asks, surprised by my identity.
Holly’s eyes widen. “You’re Mr. Snare?”
I try to take her hand, but she pulls away from my touch. “I was going to tell you.”
Her eyes search my face. “What else don’t I know about you?”
“Nothing,” I tell her firmly. “That’s the only thing I’ve been keeping from you. I swear.”
She drops her head and closes her eyes while Max and I sit quietly either side of her. “I need to get out of here.”
“Come on. I’ll take you home,” I tell her.
“No,” she snaps. “I’m not ready to talk to you right now. Max”—Holly turns towards him—“will you take me?”
“Of course,” he answers automatically, before glancing over to me with an apologetic frown.
I open my mouth to protest, but quickly close it. I’m not ready for her to make the wrong assumptions about why I kept something so important about myself from her. I need her to know that I do care about her, despite my dumbass decision for not telling her sooner. Being rejected by her is something I don’t think I can face.
Holly stands up next to me and I reach out and grab her hand and close my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“I can’t do this right now, Trip.” She pulls away from my grasp and my chest tightens as I open my eyes and watch her walk away.
The thought of never holding her in my arms again leaves me feeling cold and empty inside—a shell of the man without her. I’m tired of this empty feeling lingering inside me. The times I’ve spent with her the last few weeks have been some of the best I’ve had in a long time and that means something to me—
she
means something to me.
Right then, sitting in that sterile police station the realization hits me. I love her. It’s not just the infatuation or great sex talking. I love her for her. I can’t let this be the end. I know we’re meant to be together. It’s time I make her see that we’re perfect for one another.
I jump up from the seat to chase after her, but I’m too late. All I see are Max’s taillights driving away.
I need to bare my soul to this girl, and pray that she forgives me for lying to her and accepts me for what I am.
I
prop my leg up on Max’s seat and rest my elbow on my knee as he drives me home. What the hell is happening? Is nothing in my life the way I thought? Jackson is a fucking wacko, Trip isn’t who I thought he was, and does my dad have an incurable disease he’s been hiding from me?
Tears I can no longer fight back burn my eyes and my face crumples as a sob escapes me. This is all too much. I can’t take it. There’s nothing left to do but cry.
“Hey?” Max rubs my back. “You okay?”
I shake my head against my leg. “No.”
The thought of losing everyone I’ve ever cared about in one day hits me hard. Dad is everything to me. The one person I can always count on to be there for me. What am I going to do if what Grace says is true and he’s dying? I can’t lose him. Suddenly there’s no air and I find myself gasping.
“Hold on, Holl,” he says as he pulls the car over. Once we’ve stopped, I hear the seatbelt come loose. Max wraps his arm around me and attempts to tug me into a hug, but I won’t budge. “It’s going to be all right.”
“How do you know?” I cry. “Grace says my dad has HIV and Trip has just been using me. My life is fucked.”
I give in and allow him to pull me against him. “You don’t even know if what Grace said is true. Talk to your dad before you go into hysterics.”
I nod. “You’re right. I need to calm down.”
We’re silent for a moment, but then Max asks, “As far as Trip goes, I’m sure he has his reasons. Can you imagine what it must be like for him—everyone always wanting something from him because of who he is? He’s probably tired of all that. You should be open to what he has to say before you pass judgment, Holl. He’s been nothing but awesome to us...well, except for that first night in the bar. He was a little douchey to you then, but other than that...very cool.”