Equilibrium (Marauders #4.5) (11 page)

It shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did, and I didn’t like that it did.

The shooting took my mind off it a little; at least I’d thought it had until we were in the car on our way back home.

“Where are you at today?” Billie asked.

“Um, what?” I turned towards her. “Oh, I don’t know. Was I that bad?”

“No, you just seemed a bit off, but you handled it well. I wasn’t worried you’d be a safety risk,” she smiled. “Think you’ve got most of it in your muscle memory by now.”

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Still need to be alert, but it’s definitely a good thing.” She turned at the intersection leading up to our house. “Still wondering what’s bothering you.”

“It’s nothing about
that
. Just regular crap.”

“Well, guess that’s good. When the regular crap is what’s bothering you, I mean.”

I hadn’t thought about it like that, but she was right, and I started laughing.

“Nice change of pace,” I said, still laughing, and Billie started, too. “Maybe I’ll start worrying about makeup soon.”

“Just a matter of time, and then you’ll complain about not finding the right shade of lipstick.”

“Don’t even joke about that! I like this shade.”

We both kept laughing until she pulled up outside the house. I unlocked the seatbelt and leaned over to kiss her cheek.

“You’re the best, Billie.”

“You know it,” she smiled. “I’m working late next week, but I thought we’d take a long practice the week after. I wanna test the strength in your wrists.”

“Not sure you need to. I can tell you it’s shit.”

“All the more reason to test it. Say hi to your mom and dad for me.”

I’d missed dinner, which felt just as good, and when I got back up to my room, all those nasty little thoughts sneaked their way back into my head. Like if he was with Miss Silicone Tits, and what they were doing, but she’d said ‘see you tomorrow,’ so he might be alone. Finally, it felt like I just had to know, so I grabbed a movie, giving me a reason to see him—not that we’d ever watched a movie together, but still—and I left my room.

“I’m going out,” I yelled down the stairs that led to the TV room in the basement.

“Wait, what? Where?” Mom yelled back.

“She’s a woman of legal age, she’s allowed to leave the house without our permission,” Dad yelled from the living room to the left. “Have fun, Baby Girl.”

The TV room in the basement had started out as Mac and Mitch’s den, but it had quickly become the one everyone gathered in, since it was cozier. The living room was mainly used when Dad wanted to watch sports. Or when they were fighting.

“But,” Mom said as she came up the stairs, and then she stopped and looked at me. “Call me if it gets late.”

“Are you two arguing?” I asked.

“No? Why do you think that?”

“Just the separate rooms thing. Or is it some sports thing going on?”

“Baseball season,” Mom answered with a smile.

“Ah, okay. I’ll text you. Love you. I’m taking your car.”

“Okay. Love you, too, honey.”

I knew where Roach lived, but I’d never been there, and I sat outside his apartment building for a good ten minutes before going inside. I knew he was home. At least I thought he was home, since his bike was outside.

He lived on the second floor, and when I rang the doorbell, I realized it might be one of the stupidest ideas I’d ever had. When he opened the door, he was only wearing a pair of shorts, and my stomach dropped. Maybe he had company? Which, I admit, was kind of why I was there, to find out if he did, but I hadn’t expected it to be anything but a figment of my imagination. He looked very surprised, and didn’t say anything, which I then realized I hadn’t done either.

“Is this weird?” I asked.

“No,” he answered and took a step back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just… I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, or… interrupting you, or something.”

“No. I’m making dinner.”

“In shorts?”

“Yeah, so?” he asked with a smile.

“Are you alone? I mean…”

“I don’t bring them here,” he said, since he’d obviously understood what I was really asking. “Come on in. Hungry?”

“Not really.” I dropped my bag on the hallway floor and hesitantly walked farther inside. It wasn’t very big, just a studio apartment with a bed, a couch, coffee table, and a TV. It looked like he’d blown half the budget on the TV, given how big and flashy it was compared to pretty much
everything
else in the room. There was a small kitchen with enough room for a small table with two chairs. “Nice place. It
suits
you.”

“Thanks,” he laughed.

I’d never seen him without a t-shirt or shirt, and it was kind of… sad. He had loads of scars on his back, a few looked like burn marks, and something I was pretty sure was a bullet wound. He also had really nice abs, which I tried to not think about too much.

“Are we okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. Why shouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know. That thing with Miss Silicone Tits, maybe?”

I shrugged, but I knew I was blushing.

“It’s not like that,” he continued. “She’s just… It wasn’t… She just fell asleep and was still there in the morning.

“I don’t think they do that.”

“You’re not the first who’s made that observation.”

“It’s okay. Not like it’s any of my business.”

“Maybe not, but I want you to know. She’s not someone I’m seeing.”

“Okay. I’m sorry if I’m bugging you or something.”

“You’re not. Sure you’re not hungry?”

“Maybe a little. I brought a movie.”

He raised an eyebrow while he went to stir whatever it was he was cooking. It smelled like something with a lot of garlic and tomatoes.

“What movie?”

“
Beauty and the Beast
.”

“Ah,” he laughed and turned off the stove. “They told me you’d make me watch it sooner or later.”

“Mac and Mitch?”

“Dawg, actually. He said he was Gaston.”

“He was, not so much anymore.”

“Not sure what you’re talking about. I haven’t seen it. So, pasta with tomato sauce and bacon. Start the movie, and I’ll get you a plate.”

The food was pretty okay, and even if Roach kept sniggering about the movie, he was kind enough to not be too bad. I told him about the different characters, and who I’d thought were them when I was a kid, which led to a discussion about Vasco—the member who’d died in an explosion years earlier. I didn’t remember much about him, so Roach actually knew more about him than I did.

The weird feeling from earlier was almost completely gone by the time I got ready to go home. The only lingering weirdness was the fact that I’d reacted at all, but that was hardly something he could do anything about.

“So this was okay?” I asked when I was in the hallway. “Coming here, I mean. You’re okay with that?”

“Yeah. Maybe I can pick a movie next time, though?”

“Sure,” I smiled. I gave him a hug. “I’ll see you.”

“Um, yeah, see you.”

Then I went outside, and it wasn’t until I was in the car I realized what had happened.

What the fuck was the hug about? Why did I do that?

CHAPTER NINE

Curious As Fuck

~oOo~

HER MOTHER’S WARDROBE HAD always felt like a treasure chest. She loved walking along the line of clothes and feeling the different textures under her hand as she stroked them. Or burying her nose in the fabric, inhaling, and feeling the faint scent of Bvlgari BLV. She didn’t smell the shoes, but she liked running her hands over those, too. Her dad had a small corner of the huge closet, and it was just for his shirts. He had a drawer in the bedroom, but he didn’t have many clothes. He had one suit, although Eliza didn’t know why; she’d never seen him use it. His clothes smelled of smoke, but she still liked it. And most of his shirts were so worn, especially at the elbows, that they felt like the softest silk under her hand.

Her dad never understood why she liked being in their closet so much, why she even liked sitting there to read.

But her mom did.

~oOo~

Mel

They were going through Eliza’s closet to collect some clothes for a charity drive. It felt like the most normal thing they’d done in a long time.

“Have you ever used this?” she asked and held up a white and red striped sweater.

“Yeah,” Eliza answered. “I’d forgotten I had it, actually. Put it in the keep pile.”

It looked a lot simpler than anything Eliza usually wore, but then Mel had noticed that she’d started wearing more simple clothes lately. Not as many cute flower patterns, for example. She could’ve turned it into something big, but she actually thought it could be simply that Eliza was growing up. Most girls grew out of the girly clothes. Judging by the number of cute girly clothes in the give-away pile, that was what was happening.

“We should probably go shopping,” Mel mumbled while looking at the amount of clothes they were giving away.

“What?” Eliza laughed. “Just fill the closet right back up again?”

“Could be stupid.”

“I don’t know. It’s not like I need that many clothes, at least not until I start school again, so let’s wait and see what kind of outfits I feel like then.”

Mel was relieved to hear that Eliza was still planning on going back to school, but she wasn’t surprised. The last few months a lot had happened, and Eliza seemed okay. At least like she was heading towards okay. There were small steps, but also big ones, like when she’d asked to get her necklace back. Then there was the last thing—a tattoo. That had come up at dinner just the week before, that she wanted a tattoo, and Brick had told her to talk to Violet about it.

“Have you heard anything from Vi?” Mel asked.

“Yeah. She’d pushed me up to the top of the queue, so she’ll call me as soon as she gets a cancellation.”

“So you know what you’ll do?”

“Yup. It’s awesome,” Eliza answered with a big smile without looking at her.

“Not going to tell me?”

“No. It’s a surprise. I think you’ll like it.”

“How big?”

“Not that big,” she laughed. “Trust me.”

“I do. Sure you don’t want me or Dad with you?”

“No. I want to do this on my own.”

“Okay.” Mel managed to keep her mouth shut for a few minutes. “But if you want us to come and pick you up…”

“Mom,” Eliza said with a big smile. “I’ll be fine. It’s a tattoo, not an amputation. I think I’ll be able to drive home afterwards.
But
if it feels like I can’t, I’ll call you. Promise.”

They continued with the clothes, and once the keep clothes were back in the closet and the give-aways were in plastic bags, Eliza came up and gave her a long, tight hug.

“I love you, Mom, and I’m sorry if I don’t tell you often enough.”

“Not how it works, honey,” she said, and gave Eliza’s forehead a kiss. “You’re the kid, and it’s my job to tell you that I love you. Not the other way around.”

“Think I owe you a couple of I love yous anyway.”

“I won’t say no thank you to them,” Mel said.

~oOo~

Roach

“Can you help me with this?” Eliza asked in an annoyed tone. “And if you tell me how much it weighs and how weak I am, I’ll hit you.”

“Since I now know exactly how weak you are, that’s not much of a threat.”

Eliza stood with a straight back, closed eyes, and clenched fists. Roach bit his cheeks to not laugh out loud. They were cleaning the club gym. He suspected that no one had done that in a
long
time. When he trained, he wiped off the equipment before and after using it, but he’d quickly realized that he was the only one who did. Since Brick had decided Eliza was at his disposal, he’d cleaned up a lot of places he’d found disgusting—which was all of them—the past few months. She never complained. Or, she complained all the time, but she did what he asked. The gym had turned out to be a problem, though, and a lot of it had to do with the fact that she was feeble.

“Does he pay you extra for this?” she asked as she sprayed 409 over the dumbbell rack.

“Whatta you mean?”

“I mean, that you spend the days cleaning with me, and you work at the strip club at nights, do they pay you for both those things?”

“Maybe your dad thinks spending time with his lovely daughter is payment enough? Or it could be some kind of punishment.”

“I bet 409 in the eyes hurts like a motherfucker,” she muttered.

Roach wasn’t sure how much Eliza knew about the club business, so he never talked to her about it. If he had, he could’ve told her that he made a lot more money than a normal bouncer, and that he in general was pretty well off for a guy his age. The Greenville club made a fortune, so when he had agreed to stay behind to help them out, they’d made sure he was paid well for the trouble. At first, it had felt as if they were paying for his loyalty, but lately he’d just accepted it was their way of showing their gratitude. So the thought of asking Brick for more money just because he was helping Eliza had never even crossed his mind. He’d more seen it as a good opportunity to clean the dump up without anyone commenting on it.

“I think seeing you in those yellow rubber gloves is payment enough. Did you pick the yellow shoes because you knew they would match?”

Eliza’s phone rang before she could answer, and she pulled off her gloves while glaring at him.

“You are so lucky,” she muttered and put the phone to her ear. “Eliza.”

Roach picked up the bucket and went to change the water so Eliza could speak in private. When he came back she was smiling.

“Can we finish this tomorrow? It was Vi, and she said she had an appointment for me. Some guy just called and cancelled, so she said she could do it now.”

“You’re getting ink?”

“Yes.”

“Really? What?” he asked. She hadn’t mentioned planning on doing ink, and even if she didn’t talk about
everything
, getting one’s first ink was usually a big deal for most people. “When did you decide that?”

“Long time ago, but I haven’t felt ready. But I talked to Vi last week, and she did some sketches for me. I’ll come by and show you when I’m done.”

“Okay. Want some company?”

“No.” She shook her head and took a deep breath. “I need to do this by myself. It’s…”

“I get it,” he smiled. “I admit, I’m curious as fuck. Sounds like a big deal.”

“It is. You’ll see.”

“How much pink is in it?”

Eliza laughed. “None at all. Just black, but that’s all I’m telling you. You’ll see tonight. And I promise we’ll finish here tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry about it. Go. I’ll take care of this,” he said and pointed at the buckets and the dumbbells scattered all over the floor. “Not like you can pick them up anyway.”

“Okay, Sweetums. I’ll see you.”

“See you, Princess.”

She gave him the finger as she walked out.

He avoided looking at her ass, and instead he wondered about what ink she was getting. It sounded like a big thing for her, but he suspected it would probably be a flower, or something like that. He just hoped it wasn’t a tramp stamp.

~oOo~

Eliza

It had taken hours, and I’d thought it was horrible. Vi had told me that since it was all lines she’d used the thinnest needle the entire time, which made it worse, so I didn’t feel bad about thinking it had been pretty horrid. Actually, the first ten minutes were bad, then it got pretty okay, but after four hours it got really bad again. According to Vi, it was because the endorphins stopped pumping through my body around that time. The back of the arm, towards my armpit, had been the absolute worst place. It hit some nerves, and at times it felt like she was
in
my armpit.

It still looked so fucking awesome, though.

I ran up the stairs to Roach’s apartment and knocked on the door. I knew he was at home, I’d called to make sure, and he’d said he had half an hour until he had to get to work.

“Come on, Princess,” he said when he opened the door. “Flash me that ink.”

“I have to clean it. It’s still wrapped in plastic,” I said and pulled off my sweatshirt. I had a camisole underneath. “I’m borrowing your bathroom.”

“Just give it back.”

“Oh my god. That’s the kind of jokes my dad makes. They’re not funny.”

“Just clean the damn thing so I can see it.”

Vi had sent soap and lotion with me, so I gently cleaned the ink, but waited with the lotion until he’d seen it. The tattoo felt burning hot, and I wondered if that was normal. Before leaving the bathroom, I admired the tattoo in the mirror for a few seconds.

It was Medusa’s head; she had a beautiful face, and the snakes were wrapped around my shoulder. All of it was made out of just black lines, so it had a slight comic book feel to it, but in an arty way. That was how I had described what I wanted to Vi, ‘comic book like, but more arty,’ and it was just fucking perfect.

I knew I had a huge smile on my face when I exited the bathroom and turned to show Roach the tattoo.

“Oh shit,” he mumbled and moved closer for a better look. “That’s really fucking cool.”

“I know. It’s perfect.”

“Is it Medusa?”

“Yes.”

“Gonna tell me why?” he asked while still looking at it, and I was actually pretty eager to tell him.

“According to Ovid’s version of Medusa, and some others, Medusa was the youngest and most beautiful of the Gorgon sisters, and the only one who was a mortal. Her most beautiful feature was her hair. She served as a priestess in Athena’s temple, and had sworn to remain a virgin, but Poseidon desired her. According to some stories, that was actually why she took refuge in Athena’s temple to begin with, because she believed the goddess of virtue would protect her.”

“I have a feeling I know where this is going,” Roach said.

“Yeah. One night Poseidon found her alone in the temple, and he raped her. Athena was furious, and she turned Medusa into a monster, and her most beautiful feature, her hair, was turned into snakes. Whenever a man looked at her, he would be turned into stone. When her sisters defended her, they were turned into monsters, too.”

“Why? I mean, why did Athena do that?”

“Depends on who you’re asking. Some say she was furious that Medusa had broken her promise to stay a virgin, others that she did it to make Medusa able to protect herself, and then there’s the theory that she was really angry at Poseidon, but when she couldn’t punish him, she instead punished Medusa.”

“Why would she blame Medusa?”

“You are aware of the fact that blaming the victim is pretty damn common even today?” I answered with a shrug. “You know, ‘why did you wear a thong’ and similar stupid questions.”

“That’s true. How do you know this? Is this another thing I missed because I never went to school?”

“No, we did a play about Medusa. I was one of her sisters. I can kind of relate. You know, just going crazy over the injustice and all that. Sort of turning into a monster. Or, I don’t know, your mind being a monster.”

I had decided early on that I wanted a tattoo of her. The beautiful girl who was violated, and then went mad and became a horror—a monster—who hated everyone. I couldn’t blame her, and I could definitely relate. Sometimes I wondered if it was all just a metaphor for how people looked at a person who’d been raped. It had happened quite a few times that people had frozen up and gone quiet when I entered a room. I’d felt like Medusa more than once.

“Didn’t someone cut off her head?” Roach asked.

“Yes. Perseus. That’s when it turned out that Poseidon had impregnated her, and Pegasus and Chrysaor are born. Either from the blood gushing from her throat, or when her blood hit the sea.”

“Isn’t Pegasus a horse?”

“Yes,” I laughed. “It’s not real, you know. Imagination is a beautiful thing, Sweetums.”

He looked at me with a smile. “It’s great ink. It
suits
you.”