The Years After (6 page)

Lifting her chin, a smile played over her lips. “Oh, that’s what you meant. Sure. I’m not that easy, Derek. If you want that, then we should shake hands here and call it an evening now.”

So soft and scared one moment, she seemed nearly to say screw off the next. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been in the presence of anyone like her.

He could lie, which he did very well, and very often. Sometimes, he didn’t even know why he lied. Perhaps he was a compulsive liar. Who knew? And Lord knows, he was already lying to her. That would have to continue, if they didn’t shake hands and end it now.

It would be the only decent thing he’d ever done in his life.

“I don’t need easy. I don’t even like easy,” he muttered. His lips once more leaned into hers and touched. She pushed him back and he reluctantly let her go. She passed around him and started across the lobby only to stop when the old bat from earlier stepped out from the restroom.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, for a moment ago. You’re right; this isn’t the place.”

He leaned back on the balls of his feet, and rocked forward.
Was she for real?
Apologizing to this prudish bat for barely kissing? Who cared what she thought?

The woman’s sour face loosened. Finally, she nodded. “I appreciate the apology. Just realize this: some of us don’t want to watch it.”

Olivia shook her head. “No of course not. We’ll be more discreet in the future.”

They would? Derek stared at the back of her head, completely puzzled. Annoyed. Transfixed. She was so polite, and nice and proper. She was so unlike any woman he’d been around. He stepped closer to her and felt like pushing his tongue into her mouth again, or perhaps, just nibbling her ear to see the old lady’s head explode. Instead, his hand grazed her lower back, and he touched the silk of her black tank top. She had some kind of black wrap around it that hid most of her. There wasn’t anything obvious about Olivia.

The woman glared at him. “You seem like a nice, young lady. Make sure you don’t let anyone change that.”

Olivia simply laughed. It was like something from Tinkerbell. “Thank you. No need to worry; no one changes me.” She turned her head so they were staring at each other. “Not even boys.”

The woman finally laughed. “I like it. Your attitude. You were pretty amazing playing that thing earlier. It’s a strange talent. And rare. Never seen any girls your ages doing such a thing. But you should keep doing it. People will pay to see you someday.”

Now, he didn’t hate the old witch so much. She tilted her head with a subtle nod. “Thank you, ma’am. Again, I’m sorry we made you uncomfortable.”

As she passed by the lady, and approached the door, he followed her. Once again, he scowled at the old bat.

Outside, Olivia started digging around the bag she had on her shoulder. There was no purse. “Why did you apologize to her?”

She glanced up while pressing the button on her key fob. “She was embarrassed. Most people don’t like to watch other people sticking their tongues down each other’s throat. I don’t. Seemed like the decent thing to do.”

“Sticking their tongues down each other’s throats?”

She shrugged. “Well, weren’t we?”

“Yes, but I never had a chick say that to me before,” he said, laughing out loud. “I take it that wasn’t okay?”

“It was okay.”

“Okay?”

She finally grinned. “You want me to swoon at your feet?”

“I thought you’d be a lot shyer; that’s what I thought.”

“I am shy sometimes.”

“But others you’re not? You make no sense.”

“Maybe I don’t. So… what’s next?”

He took her keys. “How about I drive?”

She nodded and followed him past three parking stalls to where his black, huge SUV was parked. The windows were tinted as dark as the paint job. It wasn’t his, but one of Quentrell’s. He borrowed it sometimes when he was working clubs like last night, and later tonight, after he dropped Olivia off. Quentrell treated him well sometimes, like they were friends. But Derek knew it was all an illusion. Quentrell’s friends ended up as hurt as his enemies. Still, in his own back-asswards way, he took Derek under his wing.

“Nice ride.”

“It’s not mine.” He didn’t have to lie about everything. “It’s a friend’s. He lets me borrow it.”

She slid into the passenger seat after he opened the door and waited for her to get in. He’d never done that before. Shoving the door shut, he almost felt annoyed at her, and his strange desire to do that.

He stuck the key in and the engine sparked to life. The rig was decked out with every bell and whistle a vehicle could have. The dash was lined in rosewood, and the leather was smooth and dark. The shadows of the road flashed over her face as she stared ahead. Her hands were clasped at her knees and she kneaded her fingers together. Her anxiety soon returned.

He pulled into a casual steak house. “This okay?”

She nodded and grabbed the door handle before almost jumping out. Once in the booth, she spent way too much time reading the menu. She ordered a hamburger and fries. He followed suit, but was a little surprised. Looking at her, he guessed she didn’t eat much. But he was wrong. She did. When her order came, she ate the entire meal. They talked of little things, like the restaurant, the people around them, where she went to high school, and where he went. He mentioned the high school where he would have gone if he did. She would never find out differently. He pulled out some cash to pay when the bill came. She watched him, and then thanked him politely for the meal.

Once back in the car, she leaned against the passenger door.

He pulled into the parking lot of the theatre where her car sat innocuously. She pressed her lips together and finally met his gaze. What was next? He didn’t even consider making use of the huge back seat, or the cargo hold of the vehicle.

Again, why was he bothering?

“So, I know you don’t live on campus; do you live at home?”

He stared out the windshield, resting his wrist on the steering wheel. He didn’t meet her gaze because he didn’t feel like looking into the innocent face of a nice person when he lied. It usually didn’t bother him in the least, but he was kind of tired of it tonight. He almost wanted her to just get out so he could stop spewing more lies from his mouth.

“No. I don’t live at home. I live alone.”

“Oh. Already? You must work then too. I was going to get a job through school, I just haven’t had a chance to yet.”

He had a job, all right. One that lined his pockets with rolls of cash. “Yeah, I have a job.”

“Doing?”

“A pharmacy. Just a crappy job, doling out pills.”

“Not your lifelong endeavor, huh?” She was kidding. Of course, no one spent his life doing whatever minimum wage job he had in his teens. Or kept the same job. Most teens, especially those who attended a prestigious private college like the one Olivia went to, didn’t sell drugs either. The sad truth was: it would become his lifelong endeavor. Long ago, he decided he’d either be dead or in jail before he was twenty-one.

He glanced at her. She tilted in her seat to face him. Her expression was of complete sincerity and he knew she wanted to get to know him. Her skinny legs were tucked under her. He wanted to lean over and stick his tongue in her mouth again. Or just touch her lips. She was so soft. So beautiful. So pure to touch and look at. That was the exact reason he felt so shitty suddenly for doing so.

But then again, his dismal life was rather limited, and probably just as fatalistic. Didn’t he deserve a little bit of good? If she were his girl, what could it hurt to just touch some goodness? He never had it. Not once. Not even as a kid. He never once came into contact with girls like Olivia Lindstrom while growing up. And never now.

“Derek?” her hesitant tone stopped him from staring out the windshield and avoiding her gaze. Why was he reluctant to hear her “get to know me” bullshit?
Fuck this!
He got out of the car and came around to her side where he yanked open her door. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her out next to him. Leaning his mouth over hers, he pushed his hands into her hair. She nearly felt boneless while being held by him. He finally lifted his mouth off hers and trailed kisses onto her neck.

“You should stay away from me, Olivia. I’m not what you’re looking for.”

“How do you know what I’m looking for?” Her words were as breathless as he felt.

“Because I’m not a nice guy. I’ll use you. I’ll lie to you. I’ll try to get whatever I can out of you. And nothing will stop me. And if I hurt you, I won’t really care.”

“If you were really all about that, why would you warn me?”

He leaned his forehead onto hers, and they stared into each other’s eyes. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“You don’t have to, you know.”

He leaned back. She never answered the way he predicted. “I don’t have to what?”

“Hurt me. Lie to me. Use me.”

“But I will. I’m trying to tell you that.”

“I don’t believe you.” She ducked under his arms and out of his embrace. Halfway to her car, she turned and said, “I think I scare you. I don’t think I have to be scared
of
you.”

They stared at each other, only separated by a half dozen steps. She finally tilted her mouth up in a small smile. He meant to keep scowling at her and stop this now. He could not have her
argue
with him about it. What the hell was wrong with her? Why wouldn’t she run now in the opposite direction? Did she doubt what he said? He was trying, for once, to be honest and do the right thing. Why the hell did she think he would be scared of her?

He watched her duck into her car. It was a newer model sedan that she obviously couldn’t have bought for herself. Her nice parents, the one-armed Army vet and child psychologist mother she told him about must be generous. She talked about them a lot. More than he’d ever heard a teenager discuss her parents. Their family. Their home life. It was a good home life. Derek never experienced one. It was almost interesting to hear about hers. Like hearing about an alternate universe.

Only after her taillights disappeared did he finally get into the SUV. He glanced down when his phone pinged. Olivia’s name flashed across the screen.
Promised my roommate I’d go to a party with her tomorrow night, wanna come?

He did. He wanted to freaking come. His heart lifted as soon as her name appeared and his pulse increased.
Damn!
A college freshman party? He couldn’t believe it when he texted back.
Yah.

Come to room 20 of Gifford Tower. Eight o’clock.
Plus about a half dozen smiley faces. He stared at his phone for the next minute, feeling pretty sure it had never displayed winking, smiley faces before.

He finally flipped the rig around. It might have been the oddest damn night he’d ever spent, and he was always out at night or on the streets, and had done so for half his life.

Derek drove straight to Quentrell’s place. He’d come a lot further in the last decade since Derek started working for him. His place was nothing back then, and now he lived in a house on the outskirts of Marsdale. It was nicer than any of Quentrell’s other places. Drugs were starting to pay off well for him. When Derek entered, no one stopped or questioned him. He tossed Quentrell the keys with a quick,
thanks
. Quentrell was thirty years old now. He ran that end of town. He always insisted on wearing leisure-like suits. They made him look even more sleazy in Derek’s opinion. He used to wear jeans and really look like a thug. Now he just liked like a sleazy banker.

“Get done whatever you needed to get done?” Quentrell asked.

Derek didn’t understand their relationship. Quentrell often asked him about his life and his goings on, but Derek never replied with anything real. They were not friends, and there was no good will there. Just a means of survival. Derek had Quentrell’s back, all the while knowing, and one hundred percent sure, that Quentrell didn’t have his.

“Yeah, thanks for the loan.”

“You ready for the new school year?” That was one of Quentrell’s favorite lines. He loved the college freshman starting out. Derek inevitably made a killing during the first semester of school for him. His tone was as hollow and empty as his heart when he answered, “Sure. Always.”

“There’s some new stuff, over there. Load up. We need an epic month, bro. I got things going on.”

He held Quentrell’s gaze, and fist-bumped him when Quentrell lifted his fist almost in a casual gesture. He knew better however. He detested Quentrell using the subtle “bro” on him. It was a warning. A threat. A promise. His bro.

“Yeah. I got it.”

He grabbed a few boxes off the stash that Quentrell waved toward and quickly took it to the locker where he stored it. Again, a secret to his survival, he rarely carried any product on his person or kept it in his personal space or possessions. He trusted no one. So no one knew where he stored everything. He supplied a lot of Quentrell’s smaller dealers in the area. Some of them were no more than little ‘tweens. They stood on street corners, like he used to. Now he rarely did. The day in the park was unusual, as he seldom went there to work anymore. He had a few clients he still sold to. He’d been supplying them for years and continued to meet up with them. Mostly now, he was fast becoming the go-to guy, the one who stood between Quentrell and the rest of the world.

He tried to ignore the pang that filled his belly as he shut the locker door. He was picturing Olivia going home and falling on her dorm room bed.

Chapter Four

“OLIVIA’S GOT A MAN.”

Ally glanced up from tugging at her hair with a brush. Her brown hair fell to her shoulders and attractively framed her face. Her minimal makeup made her look even better as her eyebrows shot up. “Are you kidding?”

Olivia scowled at her older cousin. Ally had medium brunette hair made shinier by lots of hair product. She was outgoing, well liked, got good grades and planning to go with them tonight. She was pretty much the antithesis of Kylie. Ally had big boobs and perfect curves. Olivia felt scrawny when compared to Ally, starting from her lackluster breasts to her chicken-bone legs. She had the metabolism of a body builder and rarely put on any weight, no matter how much she ate. Which was a lot, contrary to how she appeared.