Freefall (7 page)

But tonight, for the first time in a long time, I longed for my voice. There was so much I wanted to talk about with Nix that I couldn’t possibly have written it all. Just sitting there for those few minutes, having the lopsided conversation with words and paper, I’d had the urge to tell him everything about me. I’d never written the words
I lost my whole family
on paper before. I’d avoided it, almost as if writing meant that I’d come to accept it. But there was something about the way he looked at me, the way he listened, that made me feel like I needed to write it. I needed to tell him.

The song ended and Lincoln turned down the music. “You know, I think we’ll find a different tattoo artist.”

I faced him and held up three fingers, my signal for ‘why’.

“I just don’t like this guy. There are hundreds of tattoo shops out here. I’ll ask around and find a different one.”

I was already scribbling away on my pad as he finished. “Then I’m done with this tattoo.”

“What? You can’t have a half-finished tattoo on your body. It’ll look ugly.” I hated the sound of his chuckle.

My pen was digging into the paper. “Ugly like my scar?”

He glanced at the paper and then returned his eyes to the road. “Yeah, uh , I mean, no. Look, you’re making too much out of this, Scotlyn. I just want to find a different tattoo parlor.” He said it with his usual no-argument tone, and normally, I could have cared less. But I stood my ground this time.

The pen was drying up, and I scratched it angrily across the paper to get the ink moving. “Freefall, or this tattoo is done.” I underlined
done
. They weren’t as cathartic, but underlining and exclamations were my substitute for yelling.

He sighed. “Fine, we’ll finish it at Freefall.” He fell silent, and I was stunned that I’d won an argument. There was a long line of brake lights ahead of us. “Shit, I thought the traffic would be lighter by now. I’m going to take streets.” He twisted back and switched lanes and zipped through the traffic like a madman to get to the next exit.

I clutched the armrest and held my breath. I hated it when he drove fast and crazy, and he knew it. This was apparently my punishment for not giving in on the tattoo. He peered out of the side of his eye at me, and his lip curled up in an evil grin. He was enjoying this, and I wanted to kick myself for showing fear. We finally reached the off-ramp, and he downshifted. I released the breath I’d been holding. I hated the man.

He tapped casually on his steering wheel, obviously pleased that he’d exacted some punishment on me for standing up to him. “You know, Babe, I’m going to have my lawyer finish up that prenuptial so we can get married.”

My body stiffened as it always did when he brought up marriage. “Sounds romantic,” I wrote with my dying pen.

“Well, I know a prenup sort of puts a cold business feel to it all, but I’ve got to protect my assets. I mean, you’re basically penniless.” The cruelty hadn’t ended yet. I’d hurt his ego, and I was obviously going to suffer for it the rest of the night. But I didn’t care. There was nothing he could say to hurt me because nothing he said mattered to me.

“I don’t want your money,” I wrote, and that was the end of the pen. What I really wanted to write was I don’t want you, with a triple line under
you
.

“You won’t need it. I’ll take care of you.”

I lifted my pen to show him that the ink was dry and the conversation was over. He turned the music back up. The Los Angeles streets were just as crowded as the freeway. We passed one dark patch of sidewalk where two homeless people sat on a ripped open appliance box. They had a dog sitting between them. Living on the streets brought a certain freedom, but every minute of that freedom was hardship and struggle. My life with Lincoln was without the hardship and struggle. Only with him, there was no freedom.

Grady’s green Mercedes was in the driveway as Lincoln pulled up to the garage. The car was empty. “What the hell?” Lincoln muttered. We opened the back door and walked inside. Voices and laughter met us. Grady, two of his minions, and a third scary looking guy I’d never seen before had made themselves comfortable in the living room. Tension shot off Lincoln in hot sparks.

“How the fuck did you guys get in here?” Lincoln asked.

Grady motioned to the French doors that led to the pool area. “We just walked in. They were unlocked. You really ought to be more careful.” Grady’s tone sounded cold and distant, almost threatening. The stranger had a shaved head, an expensive black suit, and a face that not even a mother could love.

“My alarm system is a joke,” Lincoln sneered. He walked over to his wet bar to pour a drink. He made a point of not offering one to his guests. “Next time wait for me.”

Grady flopped down on the leather sofa. “Yeah, I’ll do that. Anyhow, I brought Samson along to discuss the deal.”

Lincoln’s face snapped my direction. “Why don’t you head upstairs, Scotlyn.”

I turned and left the room. I was happy to go upstairs. I had no idea what was going on, and I really didn’t care, but it definitely seemed like Lincoln’s business dealings were getting shadier by the day.

C
HAPTER 9

Nix

“Where were you?” Clutch asked. “I thought you were coming right after work.” The giant parking lot was already filled with gleaming cars of every model and make. And all the usual people were milling about staring at the cars as if they were seeing them for the first time.

“I had to stop by Nana’s house.” The whole day I’d been moving in a slow motion haze, my mind stuck on Scotlyn.

“How’s Nana doing?” Both Clutch and Dray had grown up closer to my grandmother than to their own parents, and they’d spent more time at our house than their own too. Mostly because there was a constant flow of ugly crap happening at their houses and smiling and laughter were not only accepted but encouraged at Nana’s.

“Physically, she’s fine.”

“Yeah, that sucks.” He looked over at Rocky’s Burger Place. “Hey, the line is shorter. Let’s go, I’m starved.”

“When aren’t you starved?” Rocky’s Burgers made better shakes than burgers, but if you shoved enough stuff under the bun and flooded it with ketchup, it was edible.

“I sure hope I get a bite on the Firebird tonight,” Clutch said.

“Hey, I had a rich client in the shop last night. Said he’s looking for a muscle car. One of those dudes with tons of money to spend but who probably doesn’t know shit about cars. He took the flyer with him.” I said it casually as if I hadn’t been wondering all day if I might see her tonight.

“Yeah? Cool. Who is this client? Is he a regular?”

I hadn’t told Clutch anything about the girl yet because I knew he would just pile on with Dray for a good laugh. But since I knew Dray would bring it up, I had no choice. “You’re not going to believe it when I tell you, and then you’re going to be an asshole when you hear it.”

“Huh? You need food, Bro. You’re not making sense.” Clutch got to the window and ordered his usual truckload of food.

“Hey, leave some for the rest of us,” Dray called from behind. He was six people back with dark sunglasses to cover his black eye.

I placed my order, and we stood by the pick-up window.

“Hey, Clutch, I just had an offer of fifteen on the Chevelle,” Cooper, a regular, and Clutch’s biggest competition said as he headed to the window for his order.

“For that piece of shit? My grandmother could outpace that thing on her bicycle,” Clutch said. The guy responded with his finger. “So, what’s with this client, and why will I be an asshole about it? Not that I’m not always an asshole.”

“The tattoo is for his girlfriend,” I said.

Clutch stared down at me. “Okay, so far I’m glazing over with boredom. Is there more?”

“Let’s just say I keep his girlfriend’s picture in my wallet.”

“Why would you do that?” Sometimes bigger did mean dumber. They called his number, and he stepped up to the window and then spun around with wide eyes. “Do you mean
the picture
?”

“Yeah,
the picture
.”

He swept up his load of food. “Christ, Nix, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Cause of the whole asshole thing.” I walked up to the window and picked up my burger and shake, and we found a table.

“What the hell are the odds on her walking into the shop?” Clutch wasted no time shoving a burger in his face. “So, this guy is rich, huh? Hope he shows. I’m running out of prospects on that car. Everyone is so flippin’ cheap these days.” The third bite demolished the first burger. Clutch was definitely a chew-talker, and he didn’t let a mouthful of food stop him from continuing. “What’s she like?”

I didn’t answer. Scotlyn wasn’t the type of girl you could describe with words.

Dray sat down with his usual subtlety of a raging bull. “I told them I wanted actual beef in my burger this time, and the lady in the window snarled at me.”

“You do realize they are the ones handling your food, right?” I asked.

Dray stared down at his box. “Shit, now I don’t know if I want it.” Then he picked up the burger. “What the hell, I’m hungry.” He had the chew-talk thing down to an art too. “I didn’t see you before I left this morning. How’d the tattooing go?”

“So you told him before you told me?” Clutch asked.

Dray pushed his glasses onto his head. His face looked as if it had been bounced off a wall a few times. “Dude, you may be the size of a Viking and have the strength of fucking grizzly bear, but sometimes you sound just like a chick.”

Cassie threw her leg over the bench and sat down next to Dray. “I take offense to that. I don’t know any
chicks
who talk with ketchup smeared on their chin and chunks of beef jammed in their teeth.”

Dray looked up at her. “Really? I know some.”

“That’s because you hang out with cavewomen. And it looks like one of them took a club to your face. You look awful.”

“Thanks. I’m a fighter, so I consider that a compliment.”

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” I said to Cassie.

She shrugged. “I’m meeting someone here.”

Dray’s face shot toward her. “Do you mean that asshat doesn’t have the decency to pick you up at your place? How come you always have to meet him somewhere?”

“None of your business,” Cassie said.

Dray normally had little interest in anything that didn’t have to do with fighting or getting laid, but he was sure as hell taking a big interest in Cassie’s dating life.

“Yeah, you’re right. Don’t care anyhow.” He refocused on his food.

Cassie stood abruptly. “I don’t know why I bothered to stop at this table.” She turned and walked away.

“Ah, come on, Cass,” I called to her, “you know he’s an idiot.”

She waved me off and disappeared into the sea of shiny chrome and tattoo sleeves.

I looked at Dray. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, it suits me.”

“It’s true,” Clutch said still chewing like a cow. “It does suit him.”

Dray took the lid off his cup and chugged back the rest of his drink and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I invited Kelly and Bridget back to the Lucy tonight.”

“Why did you do that?” I asked.

“Man, you’re as boring as shit these days. Don’t you long for our party, party, party days? What did we call them— our party to the third power days?”

Clutch laughed. “Well, what do you know? You do use math in everyday life.”

“Waking up shitfaced in some girl’s bed and then spending the rest of the night puking,” I said. “Good times.”

I’d lost Dray’s attention. He was staring over my shoulder at something, and I wondered if Cassie was coming back. “Don’t look around but there is a slice of heaven with silky thighs and a pair of lips that could give a guy a week’s worth of wet dreams walking this direction. I call first try.”

Whoever she was, she had Clutch’s attention too. They both sat frozen like a pair of gawking, drooling statues. Then Clutch relaxed. “Figures. She’s got some bozo with her.”

“I can never catch a break.” Dray looked up again. “They’re walking toward us.” And then his mouth dropped further. “Holy shit.” He looked at me, and I knew who he was gawking at.

“Holy shit to the third power,” Dray said.

“She is something,” Clutch said. “I think my sucker radar just went off. He looks made of money.”

I pulled in a breath and turned around. Everything around her, the people, the cars, her jerk of a boyfriend all blurred and the only thing in focus was Scotlyn. Like in the shop, before she’d walked out, our gazes connected.

“Holy shit to the tenth power,” Dray muttered behind me.

I stood and Hammond came right up to me. “Hey, Nix.”

“Hey,” I turned to Clutch. “This is my friend, Clutch. He’s the one with the muscle cars. Clutch, this is Lincoln Hammond.” Hammond stared up at Clutch as he stood to full height. “How are you doing?” Clutch said, and went straight into salesman mode. “I’ve got a real beauty of a Firebird here tonight, but if she’s not to your liking, I’ve got others.” He started leading Hammond away. As expected, Hammond looked back at Scotlyn to let her know she should follow.

She shook her head and pointed toward the food window. He looked pissed. “Fine. Meet us over there after you get your ice cream.”

I watched her walk to the order window. Dray tossed his trash in the can, walked over to me, and snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Nix.”

“What?” I asked angrily.

“Nothing,” he looked back at Scotlyn, “it’s just that the asshole is over there with Clutch, who has a history of being long winded, and you’re standing here alone with the girl of your dreams.” He glanced back at her again. She was picking up her ice cream cone from the window. “And what was your nickname in high school— oh yeah— Heartbreak Kid. Come on Heartbreak, work your magic.” He looked at her once more. “Christ, why don’t they make more like her?” Dray placed a hand on my shoulder. “Catch you later.”

Scotlyn walked over to me with a vanilla ice cream cone.

I looked down at her. “You’ve got a major sweet tooth, don’t you?”