Between Us (The Renegade Saints #3) (2 page)

Watching Rachel’s coffin as it was lowered into the ground was one of the most painful and horrifying things I’d ever experienced. My parents told me that although her body was in there, it no longer held what made her who she was—her soul. That part of her was already in heaven with God, they said. I couldn’t wrap my mind around how things had changed.

After the priest said the final blessing and people started to walk away, Flynn and I stayed side by side holding hands. My mom was on his left and my father was on my right. The four of us lined up in a horrified row as Todd broke down in front of us. He’d fallen to his knees at the graveside, wailing, as Gram and Pop tried to comfort him. I don’t know exactly how long it took to get him back on his feet, much less, how long it took them to get him into the limo, but it felt like an eternity.

I knew I would never forget the way Flynn stood firm at my side when my mom tried to get us to walk away. He was tough and refused to leave until his dad did. He told me later he was scared if he left, his dad would ask to be buried with her.

In the months after Rachel’s death, things with Todd went from bad to worse. He was almost never around, and when he was, it was like dealing with a totally different person. He said the right things, he hugged and loved Flynn, but it was like he was a robot while doing so. I thought of him as Ghost Todd. His body was there, but like my mom had said about Rachel the day of the funeral, what made him who he was didn’t seem to be with us anymore.

I didn’t like what was happening. In fact, I was terrified. I’d always thought Todd was one of the strongest people in the world, but he was acting like he didn’t have any strength left. It felt like up was down and nothing quite fit where it was meant to anymore. I wondered if it was possible for your soul to leave your body while you were still alive. Looking at Todd, it didn’t seem to be much of a stretch to think that was exactly what had happened.

Things inevitably came to a head a few months later. Flynn and I had been at Gram and Pop’s for dinner. Although it was normally a treat to spend time with them, that night it hadn’t been. Todd had said he would take the two of us out to the movies to celebrate getting into the Little League championships, but it didn’t happen. My parents had tried to step in, but in the end it was decided that Flynn needed time with Gram and Pop.

What was going on just wasn’t right. Todd had been our coach since we started Little League, but after Rachel died, he just stopped coming to practices and games. He had promised Flynn he would be there to take us out afterward to celebrate, but then he was a no show.

Flynn was upset, so Gram and Pop watched him like hawks all through dinner. I could tell they were worried about what they were seeing. Pop and Flynn were sitting side by side, and seeing how upset Flynn was, Pop put an arm around his shoulders for support.

“We’re going to take care of this, I promise,” he vowed. “Things are going to get better.”

We all startled when Flynn set his fork down, burst into tears and turned into Pop’s arms, holding on tight.

“I know Dad doesn’t want me anymore,” he sobbed. “Will you move into my house so I can keep living next to Cole? I don’t want to leave the house my mom lived in with me. I don’t think I can stand to lose anything else. Can we stay there?”

Gram let out a horrified gasp as she jumped out of her seat faster than a speeding bullet. She and Pop hugged Flynn tight as they all cried. They promised him over and over that Todd loved him and would never give him up, assuring him he wasn’t going to have to leave his house, no matter what. I knew Flynn didn’t believe them because I could see it on his face.

I didn’t believe them either.

The next morning when we came downstairs, Todd was waiting for Flynn in the kitchen. He made all of us omelets, something he’d done regularly before Rachel passed.

He talked to everyone and seemed more like himself, but I was afraid to believe it would last. When we were all finished eating, Todd and Flynn went and sat at the table outside. They were gone for a long time, and when they came back I could tell they had been crying, but they were smiling.

Later on, Flynn told me his dad promised him that even though things were going to be different with his mom gone, they would always have each other. I hoped it meant Todd was going to act more like he always had before.

I didn’t tell Flynn how frightened I was about Todd. I didn’t know if he was really going to be able to get himself back on track permanently.

Later in my bed when I couldn’t get to sleep, I thought a lot about how much Todd changed since Rachel died. A big part of me was still afraid he would die, too. I prayed to God, and to Rachel, he would be okay. I was scared of how uncertain everything felt. I wasn’t as sure as I once was of the adults around me. I no longer had faith that they were as strong as I’d thought they were.

I promised myself I’d never fall so in love with someone that I’d be in danger of losing myself if they were gone.

Not me.

Not ever.

Age Eighteen

There was a quick knock on my door one time before Flynn threw it open and walked right in.

“What the fuck, man?” I chided mockingly. “I could’ve been jerking it in here. You ever heard of waiting to be asked to come the fuck on in?”

He laughed dismissively as he tossed something to me.

“Dude, I could hear you playing the fuckin’ guitar. Unless you grew another hand,” he said smugly, “I knew you weren’t jerking it.”

My hand came up automatically to catch what he’d thrown through the air. Looking down, I found a Ziploc baggie full of brownies I immediately knew were from Gram. Biologically she was Flynn’s grandmother, but she was the only one I’d ever known, and I loved her to death. I’d been calling Flynn’s grandparents Gram and Pop since the second I could talk.

Opening the baggie, I grabbed a brownie and took a bite, letting out a happy sound as I closed my eyes and savored the chocolatey goodness.

“Goddamn, Gram’s fucking brownies are the shit. I’d fucking marry these things if I could,” I declared dramatically.

“Gross, dude.”

“Eat me,” I grumbled as I took another bite. “How come she didn’t bring ‘em over to me herself? I haven’t seen her all week.”

“She didn’t come to my house. I went there to say hi ‘cause Pop called and told me she made chicken cutlets. You
know
how I feel about my Gram’s cutlets.”

He wasn’t joking. Gram made them by the dozen for him. I was pretty sure half of his body was made up of breaded chicken. Since my own make-up was probably fifty percent brownie, I didn’t have much room to talk.

“Yeah Chicken Boy, I do. But wait…I thought Mary was going to be at your house all afternoon. You’ve lost your mind if you gave up sex for cutlets.”

Flynn made a disgusted sound as he slashed his hand through the air in agitation. “Dude, I’d take cutlets over Mary bitching at me about how I need to pick a
real
career any day of the fucking week. Don’t act like you wouldn’t turn down almost anything to get your hands on some of her brownies. You’ve been Gram’s brownie bitch your entire life, and you know it.”

I nodded my agreement as I took another bite. He wasn’t wrong.

“Besides,” he continued, “I dumped Mary this afternoon during lunch period ‘cause I found out she’s trying to blow Billy Rattigan.”

I choked on my brownie, hacking a few times before I was able to swallow it down. When I got my breath again, I bellowed out a harsh laugh.

“Well, sucks for her,” I said dryly. “Because Billy Rattigan’s been busy blowing me for the last two weeks. He even asked me to pop his cherry, and you know what that means.”

Flynn’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes went wide. “Holy shit, he’s
gay
?”

“As the day is long,” I answered. “It’s a real disappointment to him I don’t have any interest in fucking his ass, and he’s even more upset I don’t allow for single service. He’s hardcore and it’s annoying. I won’t be keeping him around. I’m not about one-on-one shit, and he isn’t going to drop it. It’s too bad ‘cause he’s got a mouth like a fucking Hoover and having him and Clara at the same time has been fun.”

Flynn looked at me with a bemused expression. “I don’t know how the fuck you do it. I can’t handle dealing with one person, and you like to fuck off with two. I can’t stand the goddamn drama.”

Pointing to myself, I said, “I keep it two at a time to avoid drama, dumbass. Ditch the witch and let’s start looking for someone to be a third for us. You’re the only one I’d break the one-on-one rule for, so if you need to blow off some steam between now and when we find a chick we both want…”

Dropping down onto the giant beanbag chair in the corner of my room, Flynn rolled his eyes. “Dude, you’re a fucking maniac. Blowjobs are one thing, but I’m not kissing you. I see you eying my ass. You say you don’t want it, but I think you want to travel my Hershey highway. I’ll never be one of your cherry pies, fucker.”

Giving him a one-finger salute, I played and sang the opening riff of Warrant’s “Cherry Pie” before I went back to busting his balls.

“Have I ever tried to fuck you?”

I hadn’t, and I never would. I liked head, but fucking a dudes’ ass wasn’t on my agenda.

“I’m not letting anyone put their log in my ass either, so trust me, I fucking get it,” I continued. “Not to mention I’d rather walk into rush hour traffic than take the fucking weapon you’ve got in your pants up my ass. You know it’s not about that for me. It’s about two guys making a chick crazy. I like how dirty it feels.”

“Plus, you got to admit,” I chuckled, “guys suck good cock. It’s just a fucking fact. Girls are all tentative about it, but I like it a little bit painful and a lot dirty. Thank God for Kyle showing me the fucking light ‘cause I was never going to find a chick who gave it the way I want it. I skip blowjobs entirely unless there’s a dude on his knees. I really believe girls just don’t have it in them.”

“Yeah,
thank God,
” Flynn said as he rolled his eyes. “It’s just a shame while he was showing you the light, he didn’t also show you how to pass fucking Algebra like your parents were paying him to. We lost a lot of fucking band time last summer with you in summer school.”