“You know you can talk to me, Ryder.”

“It’s the twenty-third,” I mumbled before shoving the knife harder into the shoe.

“Oh.” She sat down beside me, not worrying about ruining her dress. “Right. The twenty-third.” I glanced over at her, her hair pulled up in a bun with a few loose curls. I didn’t need to explain what I meant. Katie and I had been hanging out together ever since my father died, even more now since her mom got remarried. It had been four years since the accident, but the anniversary of that day brought me back to that moment like not a single hour had passed. He was such a great man, never did anything wrong, and one day everything about his image was shattered.

“Give me your hand.”

I eyed her suspiciously but held out my hand to her. She placed a small handmade bracelet, woven from thin black-and-blue plastic strips, over my wrist.

“That make it better?” She pressed her lips to my temple, and all the pain evaporated under her touch. “Happy birthday, Ryder.”

“Why do you have your hair up like that?” I made a face at her, and she giggled. “You know I love it when you wear it down.”

She folded her arms over her chest as she stuck her chin in the air defiantly. “To keep mean boys with dirty fingers from pulling it.”

I fought against a smirk, but I couldn’t help it. “No mean boys will ever pull your hair again, or they will have to deal with me.”

“You’re the meanest of them all,” she quipped. “What’s that?” She pointed to the torn wrapping paper on the ground beside me. I picked up the small key ring and held it in front of me. “It’s for my car.”

“You’re kidding?” She was more excited than I had been, but seeing her smile made it all worth it.

“The Barracuda my dad was restoring before he died.” My voice trailed off as my throat became thick with sadness.

“I think it’s sweet.” We fell silent as she reached up and touched one of the tiny feathers that hung from the bottom. “When do I get to see your car?”

“My mom thinks I’ll be ready to take my test soon, but the car still needs a lot of work. I never really paid attention when Dad was trying to teach me all of that car stuff.”

“You’re smart. You’ll teach yourself.” She rubbed her fingers over a light purplish spot on her arm.

“What’s that?”

“Bryce was being a jerk this morning because I took too long in the bathroom before church. I miss being an only child.” She shrugged, but I knew she hated her stepbrother.

“You want me to kick his ass?”

Her eyes lit up. She shook her head but she was fighting to hide a smile. “That won’t make anything better.”

I closed the knife and stuck it in my tin pencil box that I kept hidden in a hole of our favorite tree. Taking Katie’s hand in mine, she watched me suspiciously as I slowly raised her hand and pressed my lips against the bruise. “How about that?”

“Much better.”

“What about this,” I asked as I leaned over and pressed my lips against hers. Her fingers slid over the side of my neck as her lips parted, and my tongue swept over cherry-flavored lips.

* *

“Jesus Christ, Rellik. Stop f**king daydreaming and watch the goddamn road!” Phantom’s deep voice pulled me from my memories. I blinked away the sad faces and checked the GPS to make sure we were still making good time. My eyes met his briefly in the rearview mirror. I knew he was worried, but I had everything under control, always. I watched the road ahead, glancing from my hand on the steering wheel, still seeing the dirt-covered fingers, and back to the tiny drops of water that splattered against the windshield. It was hard to push the past away as we grew closer to where it all happened. This trip was going to test the limits of all our sanity. I wished I could rid my mind of the memories, but my whole life was a walking nightmare.

“I’m fine,” I replied, my throat feeling tight. I struggled to clear it. “Just hung over.” Reaching for the radio dial, I turned up the volume and clicked to play our CD that was already in the player. I hoped to drown out my thoughts, but the voices couldn’t be quieted. They were a part of who I was now, the memories of Katie a constant reminder of what I could never have.

Bitter sympathy was all she offered me,

Warm and tempting, her glass half empty,

She poured herself out, judgment under cloud,

I drank her all in, my secret sin

Pain fades fast when I got my whiskey glass.

From the back passenger side, Trigger reached forward and bumped my shoulder with a bottle of water.

“Hydrate. Stay alert, stay alive,” he mumbled. I took the bottle with a nod and drank two-thirds of the contents before taking a deep breath. The chilled water alleviated the pressure in my throat. I tossed the container on the passenger floor, and Hangman smacked my arm with the back of his hand and laughed. The tension eased in my chest as I slowly pushed my memories to the dark corner of my mind to ignore for another day. Of all of us, Hangman was the only one with both feet on the ground—ironic, considering how he had come to earn his name. Drug-induced psychosis was enough to leave anyone hanging from a thread, or an extension cord, in his case.

We all had our demons. Some were flesh and bone, others chemical, but they tortured each of us just the same. Life wasn’t about living to the fullest. For some, for us, it was about surviving. No one gave a f**k about the events that brought us together. They only wanted to be entertained, but music for us was an escape. It was the blood that oozed from the wound. Same struggle, different demons.

I clicked Next on the CD player, and a slower ballad began to play, one I wrote when I was fifteen. Katie’s parents were extremely strict, and it was no secret that I wasn’t what anyone would want for their daughter. Even I knew I was wrong for her, but I couldn’t keep myself away, and she refused to give up on me.

Does the mirror lie, as you hold my hand?

Or do my secrets hide, conceal the man?

Because I can’t give you what you need.

My hands are dirty, baby, you’re so clean.

Falling for the wrong was your mistake.

Giving me your heart for me to break.

I listened to myself playing the acoustic guitar on the CD, and Hangman tapped his fingers on his leg. Drumming to him was as vital as his heartbeat.

* *

“It’s kind of depressing.” Katie scrunched her nose as she read the notebook page over my shoulder.

“Life is depressing.” I covered the page with a sigh. “I wrote that one last year anyway.”

“Oh come on. Things aren’t that bad. Pretty soon Mr. Thomas won’t be breathing down your neck anymore and reporting your every move back to your mom,” she said with a laugh.

“Yeah, I’m so glad they’re transferring him. It’s hard to have any fun with your stepdad around.”

“I know that feeling.” Her expression fell, and I dropped my pen to pull her across my lap.

“What’s up with that guy? You act like he’s the devil or something. I thought everyone loved Coach.”

She shrugged as she snuggled in against my chest and traced the lettering of my T-shirt. “He’s just a jerk. He’s always following me around and yelling at me. Of course, he thinks his son is never wrong. I can’t wait to get out of that freaking place.”

“Where do you think we should go after graduation?”

She lifted her head to look up at me, her cheeks burning red as she fought against a smile. “You’re planning on coming with me when I leave this town?”

“Of course. I’d follow you anywhere.” I placed my fingers under her chin and pressed my lips against hers. “Or you could follow me when I’m super famous. Someone is going to have to keep the girls away.” I shrugged.

She smacked me on the chest playfully and lay back against me. “No way. It’s you and me. No one else.”

“No one else.” Rubbing my hand over her knee, I pressed my cheek against the top of her head and closed my eyes. Katie had no idea how much she had helped me after my dad died. I owed her everything. If she asked me to leave this place today, I’d do it without a second thought.

“Pinky promise?” She raised her hand with her pinky finger extended.

“What?”

“Pinky promise me that it’s only us. Forever.” I wrapped my arms tightly around her and fell back on the grass, pulling her over on top of me.

“Why do you have to be such a girl?”

“I am a girl.” Giggling, she squirmed to get away from me as I tickled my fingers over her ribs.

“My girl.”

She pulled the notebook from between us, and I stretched my arm out to take it back, but she held it away as she tried to sit up.

“You better give that back,” I yelled, laughing as I tickled her, causing her to giggle as she flipped the book open.

“You’re always writing in this thing. I want to see what you say about me.” She flipped the book open, and I stopped tickling her as she began to read. My heart raced as she read my most intimate thoughts about her. There was hardly ever a time Katie wasn’t on my mind, and for reasons unknown, she enjoyed spending time with me. We never talked about what we had between us. Our relationship just evolved naturally, and neither of us labeled it. We just were us, and no one else came between us.

After a moment she closed the notebook and turned around to face me. “You’re really good, Ryder.”

Sanctuary

Chapter 5—Ella

Sanctuary: a place of refuge or safety

“Shift’s over, Maric,” I called to the end of the bar, where my boss sat on a stool with a shot of tequila in hand. He nodded but finished talking to one of the patrons as I cashed out my drawer.

I smiled and feigned interest as a couple of men tried to start a casual conversation with me, but my mind was lost in my own world. My imagination had become my sanctuary because it was the only place I had ever had control. I moved on to counting my tips, which were few and far between. Men saved their singles for those nearly na**d dancers over the frumpy girl who poured their drinks. Maric had worked his way down the bar and was now standing across from me.

“You want to get together later?” He always asked the same question, and I always turned him down, something that didn’t happen often to him. But like any man, he was predictable and wanted what he couldn’t have. He saw me as a challenge.

“It does feel a little chilly in here. Has hell frozen over?”

He smiled, loving my unfiltered mouth, but I saw him tense as the trucker sitting across the bar laughed at him. “Something funny?”

I laughed as Maric walked me to the back door and held it open for me to exit. I wrapped my hand in my purse strap nervously. I glanced around the desolate alley as I prepared to leave the safety of the club into darkness. “I was thinking more along the lines of…a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” he asked, leaving his expression unreadable. But I could get a good sense of his mood by the tone of his voice. He was intrigued and perhaps a little amused. “You wanna be my bottom bitch? You’re gonna hafta up your game.” He slid his fingers through my hair, and I cringed at the smell of stale cigarettes. “You can’t be looking like some frumpy housewife.”

“No.” I swatted his hand away and took a step backward “I need more money. I could help you with some manager responsibilities or pick up some extra shifts.”

“A raise? For what? Raise a few dicks, and we’ll talk about money.” He was crass but that was something that didn’t faze me anymore. I wasn’t raised to be ladylike. I wasn’t raised at all, just kept alive.

“Come on, Maric. I work twice as hard as anyone here, and you know that. I’m about to lose my apartment, and you’ll just have to train someone to take my place when I’m left on the street.”

His eyes traveled down my body, and I resisted the urge to gag at his repulsive expression. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“I already gave you the extra shift tonight. I can’t afford to throw cash at you. The economy is shit, Ella. My hands are tied. Go change. Be back here in twenty minutes looking a little more human. And get something to eat! Don’t think I haven’t noticed you eating all the cherries and shit. This ain’t a soup kitchen.”

“Human. Got it.” I beamed as he shook his head, and I disappeared into the alley. The relentless heat still hung in the air, even long after sunset. I must have looked homeless, but it all helped perpetuate the image of helplessness. No one looked twice at the poor, frail girl, and I was happy to be left alone. Maric acted like a dirty old man, but he was no different from any other man. He couldn’t resist a sad pout and the opportunity to ride in and save the day. But they always wanted something in return and that wasn’t a price I was willing to pay.

I was bouncing with each step as I made my way toward my apartment until I saw the eviction noticed taped to my door and a padlock hung from the frame.

“Fuck,” I groaned as I grabbed my hair in frustration. I hurried back down the stairs and into the alley alongside my building.

After a few jumps, I grabbed onto the metal fire escape and pulled it down to the road.

I climbed it quickly, hurrying past my neighbor’s window and to my apartment. My bedroom window had several coats of paint, and the lock no longer turned. I struggled to lift it and slipped inside. I changed as quickly as possible into a short jean skirt and a tight pale-blue tank top trimmed in lace. I glanced around the small space, but there was nothing I needed to salvage. A few outfits were all I had, and they were dirty. I shoved them into an old blue backpack before hurrying back down the fire escape toward work. I didn’t have time to worry about what I would do tonight.