Know Me (Truthful Lies Trilogy - Book One) (25 page)

“
She says hi by the way. Every time I talk
to her, she tells me to say hi to you. I swear she’s still got a
fuckin crush on you, Declan Cox.”

“
Whatever.”

“
Whatever my ass! Every fucking chick at
Lincoln had the damn hots for you.” Then he gives me the evil eye.
“You
swear
you never
went near my older sister, don’t you?”

“And have my neck broken by you?”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“
For the gazillionth time: I. Did. Not.
Screw. Your. Sister!”

He smiles. “I know you didn’t. I just like
seeing you sweat.”

The imp in me rears its head. “Now...if
she
wasn’t
your
sister... Hm-hm-
hmmpf
!”

“Nigga, you know I don’t care that you
drivin, right? I’ll fuckin whip yo ass if you talk about her like
that again.”

I fix an eye on him, roll my eyes back,
and say mischievously: “
MMPF!
”

“Fuckin white boys, always startin up
shit.”

Silence for a while.

“
Hey, Deck, thanks again
. For...
this
. You know I can use the dough—”

I put my hand up to stop him. “Don’t go
getting emo on me now.”

“Fine, I won’t. But thank you.”

“
No sweat.”
We touch fists.

After a while,
he says, “You wish I was emo. You’re the emo one.
Always have been.”

That’s my man.

Declan Cox
. Again.

There’s a palpable chasm between us when I
walk into
Blaze’s loft
at six. Too much time apart. Too many traffic lights. Too many
cardboard signs saying
SPARE A BUCK, GIVE A FUCK
. Too many presses of the gas pedal. Too many
clouds, too much cold.

Too little
Blaze...

Too many alloys, maneuvering themselves
into
that magical
feeling I had for her the night before, and before that. And
before
that
, when she
played at
House Market
.

But quickly
, now, when I see her making a sandwich behind the
counter. When I see her cheek pink up as I close the door gently
behind me. When I look at the cascade of her golden hair,
counterpointed by the riot grrrl buzz cut on her right... When I
see all that, the chasm disappears.
Gone
. Vanished.

And my arms go weak.

“
Good day?” she asks.

For a second, I’m too stunned to speak.
“Uhm, yeah, made more than usual money.”

“
Oh, good. How was your
workout?”

“Grueling. Trev’s a monster. I can’t keep up
with him.”

“
You want a sandwich before we head out to
meet them?”

“
Sure.
I’m...actually...starving.”

“
I can see it.” She licks sauce off her
finger.
Damn!
“How’s
peanut butter and jelly sound? I was just making myself
one.”

“
Sounds amazing.”

I planned on sitting down. But plans
change. I stroll around the counter and wrap her in my arms. Then I
breathe of her scent. And all the tension I didn’t realize I was
feeling, disappears.

She stretches her arms up around my neck
and places her head on my chest like she always does.
This woman’s going
to be the undoing of me
.

On my way to my seat, she says, “Meet
anyone interesting?”

I pause for a second
, not really wanting to get into “Mizz
Watkins.” Because she isn’t worth it. “Uhm, every day.”

I turn a
nd face Blaze. She looks at me for a bit,
expecting more, but then goes back to the sandwich.

“
And you?”

She stops spreading
peanut butter. And she tells me about the
wolves. Her face is a mass of anxiety as she does it.

“
Or vampires,” I say, “waiting to suck of
your blood just to extend their own lives.”

“
Thanks, you’re making me feel a lot more
secure.”

“
But Randy’s a good guy. I can vouch for
him. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he was just there to make sure
these other fools didn’t dig their teeth into you.”

“But he uses, doesn’t he?”

“
Only casually.” I bite my sandwich. “Damn,
this is good! Why do you ask?”

“People are different when they use.”

“He doesn’t use any hard shit. Only a bit of
E, some weed.”

“
You don’t consider E ‘hard
shit’?”

I pause the chewing for a second. “Good
point. Wow. It’s crazy. You get into the scene and what you once
thought was the hardest drug in the world is suddenly the
equivalent of a beer to you or something.”

Absently, almost as if saying it to no one,
she says quietly, “I know...”

“
Look,
I’m just saying—Randy aside—all that talk about ‘needing
friends’ and shit... I dunno, it sounds like something out of an
old mafia movie with Robert DeNiro or Al Pacino or something. And
when they’re through with you, they’ll stick you in the trunk of a
car. You’re
good
Blaze.
You’re...like...an
incredible
artist. I’m sure you can make it without these
bozos.”

She’s silent.

“
Blaze?”

“
I’ve been trying to make it for three
years. Actually longer, but I’ve been on my own for the last three
years. So...that’s when I really started trying, you know. Before
that there was no threat. Now... Never mind. I’m gonna depress
us.”

“
No. Tell me.”

She puts her
own sandwich down. Looks out her window. She
always looks fixedly out that window, at the same spot—the
same
apartment
—next
door. “It just feels like a losing battle, you know? You wake up
and you go out there and you put your heart into some goal and
then...well...you wake up three years later. And nothing’s changed.
Or it’s changed for the worse.”

“
I started my business a little over three
years ago as well, Blaze. I had
nothing
. I printed flyers, handed them out. I canvassed the
streets. Put up ads online. And, well, all I needed were a few good
leads. Then word of mouth took over. Well, now I have a pretty
decent apartment, a nice TV. I did it all alone. Skate and Trev
helped spread the word out a little, I confess. Maybe that was the
clincher.”

“
Friends,” she says.

“
Yeah, friends.”

She looks down.
“Yeah, well...anyway. I took the deal at
Sacrament
. I’m
gonna go with the wolves for now, gonna do that first set. Two
weeks from now. It’s eight hundred bucks guaranteed. And hopefully
a foot in the door.”

“Hm, that’s pretty good for a few hours’
work.”

“
Yeah. Better than I’ve ever made—except
for
House
Market
—but apparently
the res DJs get even more.”

“
Damn, even I’d stick with the wolves for
that cash. How’s the online buzz?”

“
Dying fast. I don’t know if it’s because
everyone was too high to remember, or if they just have short
attention spans.”

“
Nah, it’s just the nature of the beast—the
internet. And you’d be amazed how few people actually roll at those
parties. Maybe once upon a time, but not anymore. The online buzz
is dying down because that’s what it does. We just gotta keep
getting you out there, keep getting you heard. It’s good that you
took that deal. The more known you are, the better ‘friends’ you’ll
get. I mean...if it’s even possible to get real friends in this
business.”

She crosses her arms,
her back facing me now. Her voice is cold.
“I don’t need friends in the biz. I just need the business itself.
Dillon did it like that, you know?”

“
Who?”

“
Dillon, EDM artist from Brazil, based in
Germany. She gathered a following on YouTube, then got a concert in
Cologne from it. There’s another dude—
Mr.
Probz
. Not YouTube, but online also. Indie artist—Dutch.
Released an album for free through
SoundCloud
. Even won an award for Best Artist and was the
first unsigned artist to do that—some local awards ceremony or
something, but a big deal anyway.”

“
See? So it’s possible!”

“
Just not probable. Look, I hear you. Just
know that I’ve been trying all these years to break it through—I’ve
put stuff on YouTube and MySpace and wherever else I could think
of. But this gig, at
Sacrament
, this is something tangible. I’m not gonna throw that
away.”

“
I hear you. So they really have a secret
section to this
Sacrament
club?
Do you
think I could get in there? And hear your set?”

She shrugs, turns back to me. “I don’t
know
what
I can
do.”

“
We gotta get you out there.”

“
You keep saying ‘we.’”

I pause with the half-eaten sandwich to my
lips. “I guess I do.”

Her
eyes betray what Trev noted: Heart of gold. But no teeth.
No claws.

No bite.

I have
some claws
, I think.

“
I mean...” I run a hand through my
hair.
How to
approach this without making her think I’m just another
bloodsucker?
“Blaze, see
if you can get me in there. Maybe I can just check out the scene
and get a feel for these guys.”

“
And what, protect this little mouse from
the big bad wolf?”

“
I... No... Wow. Uhm, I’m just trying to
help.”

She bows her head. “I know you are. All I
know is my name’s being trashed on the internet. I got some
Mad-Ass
threatening me because I ‘took
his spot’ at
Sacrament
. I’m
hanging out with my old dealer—”

“
What?”

She stops, pupils quivering.
“Xavier?”

“
Ah, right. I guess I didn’t put that
together before.”

“
He got me the gig on Friday so it seems he
thinks he can also get a piece of me. But not now—he wants that
piece later. It’s like he’s savoring the flavor or something.
Urgh.
God
.” She rubs
the shaved side of her head.

“
Damn it, you really did have a rough
fucking day.”

“
When I got home I was shaking.
Like,
really
shaking.
I felt like I’d just been gangbanged by these fucks. God. If I
wasn’t so damn desperate— Whatever.”

Blood boils under my skin. Suddenly, I
wanna take Mr. Curly Smiles Xavier and crack his head against the
nearest wall. I wanna put Randy in his place and tell him he should
know better, tell him that he should be the one watching out for
her here! That’s how it goes with these party dudes, they smile,
they coo, they rub your back—but when it comes to their stash, or
their music while smoking their stash, they’re spiders. Every one
of them.

I wanna grab this
Gavin punk and stick my foot in his
ass.

I need to
chill
.

“
I can speak to Randy,” I say. “We go back.
I don’t know about this Xavier dude, but Randy has some sense in
him. It just needs to be re-awakened sometimes.”

She shakes her head. “No, that would be
mortifying. I mean, I’ve hardly met you. And even if I hadn’t...
Let’s say we
were
dating. I
mean, how would it come across? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but
there aren’t very many female players in this game. How many clubs
have you been to where the spinner was a chick?”

“
Yeah, I see your point. It would be stupid
for me to go there. And it was chauvinistic of me to think
it.”

“
No, it was...
sweet
.” She smiles. It’s that girly, mousy smile of
hers.

No teeth
.

What kicked her down?
I ask myself. Was it the
friend? There has to be more there. What put its boot on her face
to make her like this? Because I don’t see “no” teeth. I see broken
teeth.
Broken
claws.

And something broke them.

“
Blaze, it’s just that... I just wanna
help. It pisses me off that guys wanna do this to you.” I tell her
about Trev, and how they dragged his own name through the mud after
that crappy Ohio game. “And, well, maybe it’s because I have some
history on this. But it just pisses me off. Big guy stepping on the
little guy, you know?”

“
Little girl,” she corrects.