Find Me (Truthful Lies Trilogy - Book Two) (7 page)

He takes a loud sip from his coffee. “OK, so,
let’s assume you still have the gig until you hear otherwise. But
let’s prepare your business plan in case you don’t.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“
Oh, and Blaze, a coke-head just blew my
father’s brains out while trying to pop one in my best friend’s own
head. And I’m sure there were people who knew
her
since she was five as well. They’re not the same
people on that shit. You have to keep that in mind. And this dude’s
a dealer as well. I don’t wanna be telling you what to do. It’s
your life but...well...I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you
to be goin’ out for coffee with him again.”

“
No need to mention it.”

If I were Declan, I’d be telling me
to
never
see Xavier
again at all. Because isn’t that the logical conclusion? But Deck
doesn’t say that. I can’t help wondering if he’s thinking it while
he grinds his teeth and looks at his coffee cup, then at me. Maybe
he doesn’t want to come across as one of those overbearing men,
especially this soon in the relationship.

Soon?
Who am I fucking kidding. It’s not soon. It is
what it is. Time has nothing to do with how you feel about someone.
You either hate them, or love them. And much of that can be
determined within the first five minutes of meeting
them.

Like, right now, I know I
love
Declan. We’re talking
Real
Love
. The shit you hear
about in stories like
Tristan and Isolde
and movies like
Love Actually
. Love that’s thick and palpable. So thick it
might as well be a blanket around your shoulders.

I loved Savva similarly. A little less
intensely, I admit. Because the sexual need wasn’t there. (And it
seems to be
always
there
around Deck. Especially since Thursday night...)

Now, Xavier? You see, here’s the weakness:
Because the love I felt for him was far from anything compared to
these other two people in my life. And, English being English,
perhaps Love is not even the correct word for it. But, similarly,
it
is
. A human
compassion. A brotherly love. And, like it or not, the puppy love
you will always feel for the first person to ever enter
you.

Because, drugged up as we were,
Xavier—Jekyll that night—had been gentle with me. Kind. And loving.
You can’t take the chemical aspect away from that memory. We were
high on E. OK. I understand that.

It doesn’t change that he was my first.

It doesn’t change that he was my best
friend’s brother. That I’ve known him since I was five (he was
eight then.) That, in those early years, he protected
me.

Deep down, I hope I can change him. I hope I
can pull him out of what he’s into. Because I believe in him.

And we shared what we shared.

No, I won’t be having coffee with him any
time soon. But never?

I look up at Deck’s
fearful eyes as they peer into me.
Somehow, I sense he knows all of this already.

Tolek? Him I never loved. Not even a
little. Not even
when I
was rolling on E. And I was high on E a lot with him. He used to
buy it for me. Lots of it. I was a new user back then, you see. I
didn’t fully understand its effects on me and hadn’t learned my
limits. Once, Tolek (who knew E’s limits very well indeed, almost
as well as he probably knows the limits of Rohypnol) gave me seven
pills in the period of two hours.

I dropped them all.

Let me tell you, that you will fall in
love with your grandmother’s stinky toe when you’re baked on that
much Adam.

Tolek’s hand made it as far as my left
breast that night. That is, until Xavier’s
Ruger
Double Action revolver pushed sweetly and
delicately against Tolek’s throat. That hand slipped out of my bra
faster than you can say
click-click-BOOM
.

Perhaps you’ve been wondering
how I could even consider
seeing Xavier again after how he laid his hands on me on Thursday.
And hurt me. I understand that sentiment on your part. I hope this
explains it a bit. Because there’s a history there.

They’re not the same people on
that shit.
Declan’s
words.

And that’s what makes it harder. Because
sometimes the real person underneath
it all is such an angel, such a
good
person, that you can’t help try
get that angel out again—at least
one
more time—until the end of your days. I think people will
always seek shining beauty no matter the level of darkness they
face, and believe in its existence until their very last
breaths.

Even if it
’s the very thing that kills them.

And i
sn’t that what real love is anyway?

Deck shows me how to create a Google
AdWords account. He sets up my “campaigns” and “ad groups” and
“ads” and “ad text” and “site links” and “mobile ads” and locally
targets them all to both Brooklyn and the city
—Manhattan—by actual
location
and not “by intent.”

Huh?
Yeah, I hear you. I just kinda stare at him while
the green and gray background starts filling up with keywords and
negative keywords and
broad match keywords
and
expansive broad match keywords
and “I’ll never be able to manage this. It’s so
confusing.”

“I know it backwards. I’ll take care of it
for you.”

He also gets me seventy five dollars bonus
credit to start off with. He tells me he’ll check out the
“campaigns” each day over the next few weeks because “Google has a
knack of convincing you how easy it all is and suggesting you add a
bazillion keywords ‘to increase click-through rate’ which basically
just swallows all your money up.” Then he rattles off a bunch of
stuff about “automated rules” and “optimum position”...

I fade out a little. “You really know this
shit, huh?”

He sits back, stretches his arms.
“Necessity. I was staying at Trev’s place when I started my moving
biz. Dad and I had had a fallout and, well, Trev put me up. I
didn’t wanna put his mom out. She’s a sweet lady, will always help
you, but, well, they don’t have a lot. And I knew I was a burden on
them. Either way, I lived down in East New York for six months. But
in the third month of that, I was paying them a little rent—not
much, but a little—as a thank you. Anyway, there ain’t nuthin like
necessity to make you learn stuff quick. I think I operated on five
or six hours sleep in those days.”

“So you’ll take care of all this?” I stretch
over his shoulder and point at the screen, a little overwhelmed by
it all.

“Sure.” He turns on the stool, grabs my
waist. It makes me smile.

“Hey! I’ll spill some coffee!”

“You’ve had enough coffee. It’s time for
breakfast. Or...” He checks his watch. “Brunch.”

I make us a sandwich and take Deck up to
the roof where we
can
get a decent view of the city in the distance. He holds me from
behind, warming me up against the chill. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” I
say.

He inhales deeply by my hair. “Very.”

“No, the view, dumbass.”

“I love the view.”

He starts kissing the shaved side of my
head and the moisture of his lips sends a chill down my spine.
Maybe it’s also the sensation of his chest against my back. Then
his lips reach my ear. I put my hands on the low wall and stretch
my butt back instinctively, just to feel him. He hardens. His hands
slide around my waist, over my woolen sweater. Then they move down,
under it, just graze my stomach underneath...

Someone walks down below, wearing a
beanie, baggy jeans too big for him. My eyes close. Deck’s fingers
walk under my belt buckle, lower. When the tips touch the top hairs
of my mound, I
gush
. I lean
forward, eyes fluttering back. His left hand eases behind, over my
jeans, to my ass. His right goes lower still, until his fingers
just touch my nub.

I gasp, and the sound seems like it echoes
over the entirety of Brooklyn. The low wall
covers us from the waist down, but I
wonder if anyone can see what’s happening from my facial
expressions.

His left hand moves around, fights with my
buckle and gets it loose, unzips me, and my pants part. His right
hand moves into place. “Oh god.” I tighten my legs instinctively.
His middle finger slips over my wet lips, flicks the skin of the
right one, then just grazes over the skin of the left one. Two of
his left fingers tickle my left lip. I feel my labia engorging,
growing; the pressure mounting.

My breathing quickens, juice seeps out onto
my right thigh. And then his finger goes deep.

And my head drops.

Simultaneously, I start rubbing his cock
behind me with my ass. He plies me, in and out, with his digits.
Slamming and pumping and “oh,
FUCK
”—

I look down, sure someone heard me, but no
one has. It’s just the wind—a singing, howling wind—in my
ears.

And Deck plies still, slamming me, pumping
me, laying his fingers into me relentlessly until—

“
Oh, mother”—it hits
me—“
FUCK
!”

My ass stops moving because I lose
control. My tongue goes cold, and I realize my mouth is open, and
cool January wind is blowing into it. A drip of saliva
drops.

And Declan braces my body to his while the
orgasm just
slams
me, tears
me apart.

As it starts easing off, as I begin to
regain my senses and catch my breath, I feel him moving desperately
behind me, rubbing me, pushing his beautiful cock against my
clothed ass. In a rush, I move my hand behind me, fight with his
belt—

“
What are you do
—”

“
Deck, take it off, no one can see that
part of you from down there because of the wall.”

He helps me, gets his buckle off. I see his
pants drop. “Fuck that’s cold!”

And then I feel his solid cock, just
snuggled between my buttcheeks. I open my eyes, relieved now and
able to keep them on the environment. This is hot, but I’d hate for
it to be all over the internet. No one’s looking. I move my hands
behind me, and make sure each of my cheeks enwraps the length his
shaft.

I feel his moisture, sliding up and down,
faster, faster. He’s shaking, furious, riding
insanely
—

“
Oh
GOD
!”
It’s said as a whisper, but sounds like a deafening
roar.

And he comes. I guess he’s covering the
spew with his hand, because I feel his fingers grabbing his cock
but I yank him toward me. “Just let it flow, Deck. Let it flow.” I
move his hand away from his cock, and feel remnants of his goo
slide over my ass.
Oh god that feels insanely hot
. He continues to slide up and down for about a
minute.

He steps out of his boxers, then grabs them.
I start to turn, but he holds me. “Just a sec. Cover me.”

He wipes my ass with his boxers, and also
where the cheeks meet, inside. Then my lower back. He cleans
himself off as well. Then puts his pants on.

“Can I turn around now?”

“Sure.”

I do. He folds up his boxers neatly, then
puts them in his pocket.

I laugh. “This is crazy.”

He laughs as well. Then he holds me. And he
kisses me.

And I think that’s the best part of all.

Deck picks up his sandwich and takes a
bite of it.
“I’m so glad
I met you Blaze Kablowsky.”

“Ka-what?”

“
Dunno. I was trying to remember your
Polish name. It’s kinda tough.”

“
Kieliszewski
!”

“Like I said.”

I put my ear to his chest, hearing and
feeling it thump-thump-thump like a
Deep House sound. Biting wind cuts against my
other ear. He rubs my back.

Feeling stronger again—perhaps from the
moment of closeness, perhaps because I’m just stronger around
Declan—I say, “I knew her since I was five.” His grip tightens on
my back, just by a fraction. “She was my closest friend. Her
boyfriend’s name was Patryk Warta. Hers was... Hers was Savannah
Lopez. A beautiful Spanish name. And she looked like a magnificent
Spanish dancer. She was my Paz Vega, my Penelope Cruz. Catherine
Zeta-Jones in
Zorro
. All those
rolled into one. Growing up, we played with Barbies together,
talked about boys together. She and Xavier came from a pretty rough
family. You know, everything that’s bad in a family: Drugs,
alcohol, angry father, mother with shiners every few weeks. Then
the father left them and they were alone. Her mom was—is—an illegal
immigrant, so she couldn’t get a decent-paying job. Me, I came from
a pretty good one, I guess. We weren’t poor as such. I mean, we
survived. So, in a way, I guess it’s weird that I started dropping
before she did. But that’s how it went.” I let go of Declan, sit on
the low brick wall. The wind rushes past me and I like it, because
it keeps me in the moment, instead of sinking into that black pool
where Savva’s golden eyes stare me down: Always smiling. Always
smiling in my memory. Even when we found her dead body she was
smiling.