“I have nowhere else to go,” she whispered.
Her broken voice and the words she uttered forced me to look back at her and through my hazed eyes I noticed the pain in hers. Lacey was the girl who lit up a room with her smile but, staring at her now, seeing how tortured her eyes were, made me wonder if the smile was a mask. And then Jack’s voice worked its way inside my head, reminding me that today was Jack Jr.’s birthday and he went off on a mission to wallow in his own misery.
“If Lacey comes around or calls…”
“Shit,” I mumbled. “Buying her an ice cream cone and pretending the world is a giant playground don’t work no more for her.”
He smiled proudly. “Girl’s all grown up.”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
God or whoever the fuck was responsible, made it real fucking hard for me to ignore Lacey had grown up. He gave her a fucking body that made you want to drop to your knees and worship. Jack would’ve shot me dead if he knew the thoughts that sometimes ran through my head or the way I couldn’t help but look at her.
She was fucking beautiful.
And sweet, so goddamn sweet.
Fucking lethal was what she was.
Wasn’t that what I was looking for?
“Your pretty little face doesn’t belong here,” I grunted, reaching across the bar to tuck a strand of her brown hair behind her ear.
I was jonesing.
Not for drugs, not even alcohol.
I was jonesing for her.
For Lace.
I snapped my hand back, tore my eyes from her as I walked around the bar, taking a seat next to her. She lifted my glass to her lips and took a sip, cringing immediately.
“How do you drink that?” She asked in between coughing, shoving the glass back at me.
“Why the sad eyes?”
“Do you always answer a question with a question?”
“Cut the shit,” I clipped, reaching out for her again, this time lifting her chin with my index finger.
Touch.
I wanted to touch her.
I needed it.
I shook my head, raging against the need, trying to convince myself that it was the drugs fucking with me. I wanted to believe that deep inside me I was a good guy, that I had morals, maybe not many but enough to know touching her was fucking wrong.
So fucking wrong.
“You know what today is don’t you?” She asked, looking away for a moment before she turned back “Yeah,” I muttered, staring at her lower lip as it quivered slightly. “I know. Is that why you’re here? Checking in on your old man?”
She lifted her eyes to mine.
“No,” she whispered.
“Then tell me why.”
She remained quiet as she studied my features. I opened my mouth to speak, but she shook her head, cocking it to the side as she laid her hand on my thigh and leaned close.
“Does it ever go away?” She asked barely audible.
I glanced down at her hand and closed my eyes as it burned a hole in my jeans, lighting my whole body on fire.
Drugs man, they’ll fucking ruin you.
Wreck you.
Destroy you.
I shoved her hand away, narrowing my eyes at her.
“What are you doing, Lace?”
“I asked you a question,” she said, her hand closing over my wrist. “Does it ever go away? Tell me it goes away Blackie, tell me this isn’t it,” she whispered, her eyes pleading with mine.
“Does what go away?”
“The pain,” she replied, tightening her hold on my wrist as she peered at me. “It doesn’t,” she said, answering her own question. “Look at you,” she added. “The pain never left you. It’s written all over your face, it’s there, alive in your eyes but the rest of you is dead.”
“You in pain, Lace?” I asked hoarsely. “Came here looking for someone to make it go away?” I ground out.
She shook her head.
“I came here, hoping someone, anyone, would see me.”
“I see you,” I said as her hand dropped from mine.
“You see what I allow you to. No one sees the real me,” she whispered.
She was going to fucking bury me.
“Show me what you’re hiding,” I coaxed. “Take off your armor, peel back your mask and let me see you. Otherwise you’re going to let that shit tear you down. Pain is a bitch and it’ll swallow you whole if you let it.”
“Like you did?” She snapped. “You haven’t let anyone in, never ‘peeled back your armor’, you never gave anyone your pain, never gave anyone a chance to take it away from you. You hang onto it like it’s an organ you need to survive.” She paused, sucking in a deep breath. “We’re not that different, Blackie. You and I, Leather and Lace, on the outside we’re total opposites but inside, deep down inside, we’re the same.”
“God, I hope not,” I said, twisting in my stool as I stared at her.
I wanted to hang on to the belief that there was still good in this world, still purity and it was there looking back at me.
Then I saw her.
The Lacey she hid behind, the fractured soul that was tortured by the pain no one knew existed in the sweet girl with the pretty smile.
I saw her.
And I wish I hadn’t.
She wouldn’t just bury me.