Page List


Font:  

But I have to let her go.

I stashed the notebook with my guitar case in a locked trunk that Holden had bought, so I didn’t have to carry the instrument around with me all day. A much-appreciated upgrade.

Twilight was turning the sky outside gold and purple, though it was dim in the Shack. I threw on a plaid flannel button down over my t-shirt and pulled a knit beanie over my head to keep the hair out of my eyes. I grabbed a juice from the mini fridge, powered by a small lithium battery generator. More of Holden’s upgrades. I kept the fridge stocked with food so that I could worry less about Chet pilfering. Ronan stored his beer in it, Holden liked to keep a bottle of his favorite vodka.

Not to be outdone by refrigerators and decent lighting, Ronan and I made valuable contributions to our domicile, too. My boss at the arcade gave me three beach chairs for our nightly bonfires. Ronan brought weights for lifting, an endless supply of lighter fluid, and a ratty but clean-ish futon that Holden refused to sit on.

Instead, His Lordship had brought in a wing-backed chair that barely fit in the door. He sat and smoked his clove cigarettes as if he were an old rich bastard having a cognac in front of the fireplace in his mansion library. The guy threw money around as if the world were coming to an end. That should’ve pissed me off, but mostly, I was worried about him. He sure as hell drank like there was no tomorrow.

I joined Ronan and Holden, and we made our trek from our hidden spot along the beach up to Cliff Drive and headed east to the glittering lights of the Boardwalk. Holden called it our “nightly prowl.” We gathered curious looks and a few murmurs from Central High students that carried back to school.

I didn’t give a shit what anyone thought of us, but if I did, I’d have blamed Holden. He dressed in expensive coats and scarves, despite the fact that summer was only just ending. Violet told me Holden reminded her of a vampire. I agreed. An old-world vampire whose skin was pale and cold until he’d had a drink. Booze, not blood, seemed to be the only thing that warmed him up.

As we walked, he sipped from a flask tucked into the pocket of his gray wool herringbone coat that went nearly to the ground, the collar turned up over a black silk shirt and a green and gold paisley scarf.

“Something on your mind?” he asked as we strolled the crowded walk, the scents of cotton candy, funnel cake, and grilled corn in the air. “Preoccupied with greatness since your performance at the party?”

“Hardly.”

Preoccupied with how Violet’s face looked that night, maybe. Preoccupied with how the tears streamed down her cheeks as she clapped for me and then ran out. Because I’d been cold to her then and ignoring her ever since.

I have to fix this. I miss my friend.

I whipped out my phone.

I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick lately. Was thinking about coming over tonight? It’s been awhile.

A reply came quickly. YES! I miss you.

God, those words. I ate them up. Swallowed them down and tried to let them feed me. I was still starving for her. My stupid fucking heart still beat for her. It wouldn’t leave her alone.

But it has to.

Me too. I sent back and shoved the phone in my pocket with a sigh.

Holden nudged my arm with his elbow. “What’s that all about?”

“I asked Vi if we could hang out tonight.”

“And that’s cause for dramatic smolder because…?”

“Because he’s in love with her but won’t tell her,” Ronan said.

“I’m not in love with her.”

“My ass.”

Ronan stopped at the Ball Toss game, his favorite; he liked to smash things.

He hadn’t been at school or the Shack for a few days and had finally returned in a darker mood than usual with a bruise over one eye and another peeking out of his T-shirt. I wondered how many more were hiding under his clothes and who gave them to him. But when we’d asked that afternoon, he’d barked at us that it was none of our fucking business.

I worried about him too.

Ronan hurled the ball with tremendous force, and the plastic bottles went tumbling down in a heap.

The carny running the game flinched. “Jesus, take it easy.”

Holden grinned. “This game is supposed to be rigged, isn’t it?”


Tags: Emma Scott Lost Boys Romance