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Authors: Addison Jane

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BOOK: Bayward Street
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But there was nothing.

My heart shattered right there on the spot as I bent over his body and cried.

He was gone.

 

 

I felt cheated.

Having someone you cared for torn away from you so suddenly, it wasn’t fair.

In the few short months I’d had with him, he’d become a friend, a confidant, a brother and with his goofy boyish grin, he’d buried himself into my heart. He was just a kid. He should be out doing what he loved, wreaking havoc with his friends and arguing with his parents about whether he’d done his homework.

But instead, he’d died alone in a fucking tent at the end of a dead end street.

He didn’t deserve that.

None of us fucking deserved that.

Layla held my hand in hers as we walked toward the church.

Three days, and I’d managed to hold a strong front. Every time I thought of his smile, or heard his voice in my head, the temptation to break down would fill me. I fought it with everything I had, trying to comfort my friends with soft words as they released their own pain.

Kyle wrapped his arm around me and kissed my cheek. The affection was comforting. Kyle had taken Eazy’s death so hard, I was just waiting for the downward spiral to begin. I’d already heard him and Lee arguing at night and waking up this morning to find an empty bottle of rum sitting next to the fire drum had only confirmed my suspicions.

The rest of our crew had stayed home. We wanted to say goodbye, but we didn’t want to draw attention. The handful of us that were still considered runaways had had to leave when the police and ambulance had shown up to investigate and collect Eazy’s body. Daisy, Andre, and Sketch had to drag me away kicking and screaming.

The police took notes about the attack a few days before, times, dates and places that would easily be able to be matched to video footage that they had at the train station.

Lee said they seemed pretty content with the explanation.

Now here we were. I’d never imagined having to ever step foot inside a church. I remembered learning about God in school, and about all the good he did for people. I’d cursed him ever since, never understanding as a young child what I’d ever done to make him so angry and why he had forced me to live the life I lived.

We took a seat right at the back in the corner, the expansive church filled to the brim with people, young and old.

As people stepped up to the podium and said their piece, it gave me a closer look into Eazy’s life. He was always sweet, one friend mentioning how he had a way with the girls, swooning them at every chance he could get. Another talked about what a fantastic football player he was, the way he pumped up their team and supported every single member.

Tears fell freely now from my eyes as I tucked my face into Kyle’s shoulder, Layla doing the same to Lee as they both sobbed quietly.

When his parents stepped up to the stand, I felt a sudden wave of anger flow through my body. Kyle’s body tensed underneath me, and for a moment, I was almost scared of what he would do.

The woman sniffled softly and blotted at her barely puffy eyes. “My baby, I wish I could have done more for you. I wish you’d come to me with your problems so we could’ve worked through it. This is a lesson for everyone, talk to your children, ask them if they’re okay.”

Kyle held me in place even as I pushed against him, wanting to stand and scream at the two people who should have stood by their son in his time of need. Instead, they forced him out onto the street.

And now, he was gone.

Layla threw her arms around me and whispered quiet words in my ear, and I cried loudly for my friend who was gone. Our friend. Our little brother.

The service was over quickly, men and boys shared the responsibility of carrying the coffin from the church. Everyone followed in procession behind it, heads hung and sniffling.

The church was right next to the cemetery where Eazy was being buried. After his coffin had been loaded into the hearse, most people followed behind it down a long paved road that wound through the grave sites.

Kyle and Lee kissed Layla and me on the cheek. “Are you sure you girls want to stay?” Kyle asked, holding my face in his hands.

I nodded. Kyle and Lee had already organized with their uncle to do a trial inside his nightclub in the city. We’d had to take the metro and two buses just to get to this part of town, so they needed to leave now if they were going to make it back in time.

“We’ll be fine,” I whispered softly.

Layla pulled her guitar case over her shoulder so the strap ran across her body. “You guys need to go before you miss your shot at this job.”

Kyle and Lee looked at each other sharing a silent conversation before they finally agreed and disappeared up the road.

Layla and I joined the slow-moving crowd, hanging back a bit as we followed along. We found a tree and sat back against it, as we watched the priest say a few more words and the casket was lowered into the ground. People threw in flowers, whispering their goodbyes and letting their tears fall to the ground alongside him.

As they dispersed, they formed small groups, chatting with each other as dirt was shoveled into the hole. Sadness filled the space, and while losing a loved one was horrible and devastating, it didn’t feel right to remember Eazy this way.

As if Layla read my mind, she placed her guitar over her lap and began to play.

‘7 Years’
by Lukas Graham filled the stale air. It was a sad song, but one about life and learning lessons. Eazy loved it. He was full of surprises, a kid who was both young and vibrant but wise past his years.

I sang along with Layla, my voice wasn’t soft and beautiful like hers, but I didn’t care. This was my parting gift to him.

People turned to watch us, but didn’t speak, just stared in wonder. Some tapped their feet, others smiled and hugged their friends as they swayed to the slow rhythm.

They knew what we knew, that this was him. He was about bettering yourself, and taking risks. He’d got lost somewhere along the way, giving into the darkness and allowing it to consume him. But he wasn’t the only one who’d allowed their path to lead in the wrong direction.

After realizing that he’d hit rock bottom, Eazy fought back with more strength and passion than before and was determined to fight his way back into the world. He filled me with hope, and excitement, about life outside our tents on the backstreet of society.

And now, I was more determined than ever to live my dreams.

For me, and for him. To prove that his friendship and words meant more to me than he will ever know.

As the song wound to an end, people nodded to us, acknowledging our ode to the boy who I never knew had touched so many.

“I want you to leave,” a sharp voice ordered. Eazy’s mom stomped across the grass, her high heels catching in the dirt and flinging it up around her. His father hurried along behind her, his head darting around as he realized the scene that she was making.

I’d held my tongue during the service, but if this woman was going to come at me, I was going to give her some harsh truths that she was not going to like. I pushed to my feet as Layla calmly packed away her guitar, knowing exactly what was about to go down if I was pushed far enough.

“This is my son’s funeral, I will not have it tainted with your disrespect.” Her fake long blonde hair billowed around her with the wind as it began to pick up. Her husband pulled at her arm, but she snatched it away. It was evident who wore the pants here.

I cleared my throat. “I’m surprised you spent so much money on saying goodbye to him. Maybe if you’d spent all this on getting him the help he needed, he’d still be alive.” I didn’t hold any punches. I was disgusted and enraged that this lady would accuse me of tainting his memory.

She lowered her voice now, but people had already taken notice of what was going on and I refused to let her get away with playing the victim. “I don’t know who you think you are, but—”

“We were his friends,” I growled. “We were the people who picked him up off the street when you failed to do your duty as his parent and keep him safe.”

I heard gasps from the crowd. Obviously there were more secrets here than I thought.

“We were the people who cared for him when he was so sick he could barely move,” Layla joined in, throwing her guitar over her shoulder and standing firm at my side.

“We held his hand through the withdrawals, we spent money that we’d made getting him food and water, even though it meant we went another day without eating.” I felt the tears coming now, and I wasn’t ashamed of them. They fell freely, and I didn’t even attempt to wipe them away. “All he needed was support, someone to give a shit and show him that he was better than those fucking little pills.”

Her face screwed up like she’d bitten into a lemon. There was whispering, it flowed freely between groups that huddled, staring at the scene in front of them.

“He was on the streets because of
you,
” I cried, the dam bursting like never before and a mix of fury and devastation wracking my body. “He didn’t have to be there. All these people, they believed in him, they would’ve supported him no matter what, if you’d just given them a fucking chance. But no, you threw him out like a piece of trash, because you were too damn scared of his mistakes tainting your goddamn reputation!”

Her body flinched and for a second, I thought she might strike out at me. But when her eyes flicked from side to side, I knew she was once again more concerned about how I was making her look rather than listening to the truth about what she’d done.

“Marvin, call the police,” she snapped.

Laughter bubbled up, floating from my mouth, past the erratic sobs. “He’s dead. Because of
you.
And now everybody knows…” My knees started to shake, the height of my emotions finally taking their toll.

Eazy’s mom took a step forward. “You disgusting little piece of sidewalk filth.”

Her words didn’t sting, I embraced them.

I forced my chin a little higher. “At least… I’m honest… about what I am.”

My legs started to give way, but I felt myself being lifted into two strong arms. I wrapped my legs around the person, tucking my face into their neck, breaking down. He whispered that it would be okay, that I would be okay. Hushed voices and footsteps followed us, and I looked over Heath’s shoulder to see Braydon with his arm around a weeping Layla.

She cuddled into him, wrapping both her arms awkwardly around his waist as they followed behind us.

One of Heath’s hands sat under my bum, holding me up while the other rubbed up and down my back soothingly. “He’s gone,” I whispered painfully.

“I know.” That was all he said, but it was all I needed.

Braydon caught my eye and gave me a sad smile as Heath carried me through the carpark. He stopped for a second, and I heard a beep followed by the car doors clicking open.

I heard the clipping of heels on the concrete as Heath pressed me against the car, using it to help hold me up as he pulled on the door handle.

“Are you taking them to our place?” the woman asked softly.

“Yeah, Mom,” Heath answered as he stepped around the door and deposited me inside with a light brush of his lips against my cheek.

“Okay, I’ll be home soon. Look after them.” Heath didn’t say anything else. Our eyes met as he pulled away, they watched me with worry. I held strong, letting him go even though my body was screaming for him to stay with me. He stepped back and Layla squeezed in after me, diving into my arms.

Braydon and Heath took the two front seats, Heath pulling out of the parking lot with a squeal of the car tires while Layla and I fell to pieces in each other’s arms.

Chapter Twelve

 

 

Layla’s head sat against my shoulder as I watched the houses and streets flash by. We weren’t just in the suburbs anymore, this place was on a whole new level. Perfectly manicured gardens with picturesque statues were the least impressive part of these homes. There were large iron gates, water features that could rival those of Las Vegas, Mercedes, BMW’s, Jaguars–to name just a few, parked in lavish driveways.

We pulled into a street named Kings Crescent. The name seemed even more fitting as Heath turned into a driveway with shiny black barred gates and a small speaker box outside. He reached up and pressed a button that was connected to his sun visor, and the gates began to slide open without even a creak.

“That looks like one of those things you speak into at a drive through,” Layla whispered as she looked over me through the window.

“Maybe we can use it to order a burger,” I replied sarcastically, but I was in just as much awe as she was.

Lay snorted, “Extra fries.”

“Maybe some chicken nuggets.” I laughed softly.

Our laughter subsided quickly as we pulled up to Heath and Braydon’s home. It almost reminded me of a cabin that you’d find in the woods. But this cabin was on some serious steroids.

Large stones fit together like puzzle pieces forming large pillars, holding up a balcony. The rest of the house was built from beautifully varnished wood. It was light in color, almost orange as opposed to brown. It gave it a new and modern feeling, which matched the large windows which adorned the second story.

The stone theme was continued around the house, lining the small gardens and built into the steps that led to two massive wooden doors. It looked as though if you opened them that you could drive a car through with ease.

The door of the car clicked open, startling me. Heath held his hand out to me, I took it as I climbed out. Layla followed out behind me, the both of us staring at the monstrous house with our mouths wide open. Heath kept my hand held tightly in his as he led us inside.

The foyer inside was just as impressive, a staircase leading off to the right to a landing that looked over the entertaining space in front of us. There was not a single thing out of place, even the books on the coffee table were lined up perfectly square.

I felt a sharp pain on my arm and jumped away, rubbing at the sting. “What was that for?” I accused Layla, but her eyes continued to be fixed on our surroundings.

“Just wanted to check I wasn’t dreaming,” she answered as she walked further into the house, examining everything.

“You’re supposed to pinch yourself, not me for fuck’s sake.”

Braydon laughed, following Lay, then leading her through two doors off to the side of the room. “Let’s find some food. Dunno if we have burgers or nuggets, but there must be something.” He threw a wink at me over his shoulder before they disappeared around the corner.

“We’ll be in soon,” Heath called, his voice resonating in the large space. He pulled me by the hand up the staircase. Looking down at my feet as I took each step, my worn shoes seemed so out of place against the perfectly shiny floorboards.

I had the weird urge to kick them off, but I knew my socks wouldn’t be much better. At least my shoes matched.

Heath stalked down the long hallway which reminded me somewhat of some high-class hotel.

“Need a damn map,” I mumbled admiring the artwork on the walls. But it wasn’t famous painters or Van Goughs, it was children’s artwork. I spotted Heath’s name, Braydon’s also, and then another, Felicity I think.

He threw open two double doors and strolled through. I followed suit, swallowing hard as I took in the large space that could have possibly been bigger than the house I grew up in as a kid.

There was a king sized bed against one wall, with a four post frame, a small sofa in the corner facing a flat screen television and a massive desk, which looked like it could be some type of antique. The rest of the room was simply open floor. Finally pulling my hand from his grasp, I walked past Heath, noticing the way his eyes never left me and stood in front of the massive windows. They ran the length of the room, and just like the others I’d seen from outside, reached from the floor to the ceiling. The room overlooked a beautiful expansive yard with enough room to play a game of backyard football alongside a crystal clear pool, which in size, rivaled those they used in the Olympics.

“It’s heated. It’s not really hot outside at the moment, but we still swim in it,” he explained. His body moved in behind me, even without his touch, I could still feel the warmth resonating off him. He gripped my hip, pulling on it and turning my body so I was facing him. I tried to turn away, but before I could, he had my chin gripped in his fingers, pulling my face up to meet his eyes. I couldn’t escape his penetrating stare.

“Are you okay?” he asked finally.

Coughing out a laugh, I shook my head. “No, I’m not okay.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Then why’d you ask?” I snapped, pushing him away and ducking around him. My emotions were all over the place. It felt like I was going crazy.

He watched me as I paced the room, my shoes squeaking against the polished floor.

“Yell at me.” My head perked up, and I stilled.

Raising my brow, I stared at him like he was nuts. “Don’t you think I did enough of that already?”

“Obviously not, if you’re still not okay.”

“I’m not okay because I just lost one of my best friends. Someone who I considered a brother, someone I loved.” The tears burned at the back of my eyes again, after I thought they’d finally run dry.

“Those people all lost him, too. A lot of them felt exactly the same as you. He was a best friend, a teammate, an ex-boyfriend, a nephew, a son.” There was no accusation in his tone, he stated it like it was just a matter of fact. But I’d already learned that Heath had never spoken words that weren’t meaningful. He was quiet, but that didn’t mean that he had nothing to say.

My body tightened like a spring, ready to release. “Where were they then, Heath? How long had Eazy been taking those pills? Why didn’t they say something? Why did no one do anything?”

Heath shrugged his shoulders. “Sometimes we only see what we want to see.”

My body slumped, I know his words weren’t meant for me, but they hit me like a bullet, tearing through my skin. I could have helped Eazy. I could have made him go to the hospital, but he was so determined to make it through without the help of medication. He was so scared of being trapped back where he was before. The amount of pain he must have been in was completely inconceivable and made my stomach churn.

Heath was right. Sometimes we only saw what we wanted. I’d convinced myself that he was going to get better, that he was going to pull through. He just needed to rest. Everything was going to be okay. But it wasn’t.

I gripped my hair in my hands, hanging my head. “God, I’m just as bad as them.”

I was engulfed by two large arms, Heath’s hand went to the back of my neck, pushing my head against his chest. My hands gripped at his shirt as I cried.

“You did everything you could for him,” Heath spoke quietly, his voice firm. “You protected him, supported him when he had no one. He loved you.”

My feet moved with Heath as he shuffled my body to the bed. We lay down, my head going to his chest and his arms wrapping around me. His lips brushed against the top of my head, the gesture spreading comfort throughout my body. My fingers ached with how tightly I was holding onto his T-shirt.

Listening to his heart, the beat even and steady, I started to slow my breathing so it was in time with the rhythm.

Heath had this strange effect on me. Maybe it was because I felt like he had everything so together. He was calm, smart, completely collected. He didn’t let himself be rattled, and he didn’t give a shit what people thought of him. The thing was, though, that was exactly the type of stuff that women were drawn to.

He was the guy who seemed unattainable. He was hot, smart and mysterious. I ached to know more about him. Sometimes I felt like I’d seen more than he showed to people, and I wondered why he’d chosen me to share parts of himself with that he hid from others.

Did I really care?

He made me feel good, and with a simple touch, he could both light my body on fire and calm a raging storm. The mixture of feelings made me want more.

Heath’s hand drifted up and down my back, his breath tickling at my hair. The tears and anger had ceased, but now my heart was racing for another reason.

Running my hand up his body, I felt him tense under my touch. His body was defined, the gentle dips of his abdominal muscles excited me. I wanted to ask what he did. Was he a football player, baseball maybe? He was an athlete, that much I could tell. He worked hard, it was obvious.

“Fable,” Heath warned softly as my hand drifted back down again.

“What?” I whispered, tilting my head back to look up at him. His eyes blazed with fire. I almost sat back, but then I realized it wasn’t an angry fire that I could see burning.

I couldn’t help myself, stretching up so my lips could reach his neck. Brushing them against his skin lightly, I wondered whether he would pull back. There was a light bristle that rubbed roughly against the soft skin of my mouth.

When he didn’t move, I pressed them against him, kissing him softly. I nuzzled at his jaw with my nose and he complied, tilting his head to the side. I pressed my body against him and his hands gripped my hips, pulling me so I was lying right on top of him, eliciting a gasp from my mouth. His fingers dug into my sides almost painfully, but I ignored it, working my way along his jaw until I found his mouth and I licked at the corner of his lips.

“Fay, stop,” he murmured. It was almost empowering, knowing that I had him so wound up that he was beginning to plead with me.

“Why?” I whispered against his mouth.

When one of his hands released my hip and grabbed a fist full of my hair, I inhaled sharply. He took the opportunity to take control, drawing our faces together and claiming my mouth. His hand drifted up underneath my shirt, skimming over my skin, and causing me to shudder. My senses were going crazy, excitement flooding in, but nerves fought their way through too as things began to get more intense, more than I’d ever done or felt before.

Heath pulled back, the both of us heaving as we tried to draw more air into our lungs. “We need to stop.”

I licked my sore lips. “Why?” I asked again.

“Because this isn’t going to take away the pain,” he explained through deep breaths.

I opened my eyes, finally looking down at him. There was something new in his eyes. I knew he wanted me, it was completely obvious, but what I saw wasn’t lust or passion in his eyes. It was something that awfully resembled pity.

I pushed away, scrambling off him and climbing off the bed. “Don’t look at me like that,” I snapped.

Heath groaned, not moving from the bed as he rubbed at his face. “Look at you like what?”

“Like I’m a charity case.”

He sat up suddenly. “Stop being fucking stupid, Fable.”

“Then what is this?” I held my arms out wide looking for an explanation. Feeling like an idiot.

Heath sat up and pushed off the bed, and rounded the edge to where I was standing. “I don’t know what this is…” he flicked his finger between us, “…but I’m not about to figure it out while you’re mourning the loss of your friend. Not going to fucking disrespect you like that.”

I couldn’t help but stare at him. Heath really was something else. I wanted to be angry at him, but I couldn’t. Once again, he was trying to protect me, this time from myself.

His hand cupped my cheek. “Come on, let’s get you some food.”

Nodding, I let him take my hand and lead me back downstairs. It was beginning to feel normal to have him touching me in some way.

And that alone scared the shit out of me because Bayward Street and Kings Crescent were two completely different worlds, ones that weren’t meant to mix.

This should not be normal.

BOOK: Bayward Street
8.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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