Smother (4 page)

One pale brown eyebrow lifted. “No smoking in the building.”

She sputtered for a bit before she could get words out. “I wasn’t smoking in the stupid building! And if that isn’t the most lame ass answer I’ve ever heard of for trying to justify having me hauled from a party! I was drinking. I’m twenty-four. I can drink. Unless there’s a rule against that too?”

Reese poked a finger against his hard chest and tried not to get distracted by the smoothness of it. “You may own the apartment building I live in, but you don’t own me. Don’t do that again.”

She spun away from him and reached for the doorknob when he said quietly, “If you can’t be responsible for yourself, then you have no right to be upset when others are.”

Stiffening, Reese digested the fact that he’d spoken a full sentence to her for maybe the first time, and then she mulled his words over. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him he could shove his apartment and this job right up his ass, but then what? Then she would be jobless and homeless once more. Whether she liked it or not, he did have power over her.

Reese’s lips were trembling, but she somehow managed to keep her voice steady as she said, “I’m not your responsibility.”

“Sure about that? Seems like you are.”

In this moment, Reese hated Leo Chavez.

She yanked the door open and hurried down the stairs, missed the last few steps and crashed into the door at the bottom. Reese didn’t look back to see if he was watching her. She walked through and out of the tattoo shop, locking the door despite the potent, infantile urge to not. She only stopped moving once she was on the sidewalk.

Reese inhaled deeply and willed her body to stop shaking and her heart to steady its beat. The sunlight blinded her when she looked to the sky and she blinked her eyes against it. Buildings lined the sidewalk and an occasional car swept down the street, but she felt lost and alone. Where did she go? What did she do now?

Farrow’s Point was a small community in the middle of Minnesota that most didn’t know about, and those that did, didn’t want others. The population hovered around four thousand and if someone didn’t know you, they were instantly suspicious of your character. Reese remembered from her first few months in the city.

The town was full of buildings preserved from the 1800s, brick and stone sidewalks, and in the spring and summer, lush with greenery that made it possible to believe the inhabitants were living in the middle of a meadow with rainbows of floral blankets covering the ground. It was beautiful, serene—a perfect secret only so many were allowed to enjoy. Reese felt like she was sullying it merely by breathing the air.

This would be her first full winter here, having moved into the apartments near the end of last year’s. She wondered how the town would look covered in snow crystals. Reese pictured carolers stopping door to door with their rosy cheeks and cold noses, singing of joyful things that somehow had a sad element to them. Farrow’s Point reminded her of a community stuck in time, trying to cling to beliefs lost through the years.

It was silly to think of the town in such a way, or to even think of it at all. This wasn’t her home—it was only some place she would stay for however long. Reese didn’t belong here, but in the deepest parts of her heart, she wished she did.

Reese had no idea what to do right now. She didn’t want to go home to her apartment that was really Leo’s. She didn’t want to see or talk to anyone she knew, but she also didn’t want to be alone. She hadn’t formulated a plan yet when a police car showed up at the apartment building across the street. A frown pulled her mouth down as she watched two uniformed officers get out of the vehicle and walk inside. Reese settled against the wall of the tattoo shop and crossed her arms as she waited for whatever was about to unravel right before her.

Ten minutes later, the two guys who hosted the party last night were ushered from the building with their arms full of miscellaneous items.

Her mouth dropped open as she straightened, disbelief gluing her eyes to the scene like glitter to skin. The men continually went into the building empty-handed and came back out with their arms full of shit. Leo didn’t just kick them out—he was having them monitored and escorted by the local donut runners. How could someone who inked skin and owned one apartment building have that kind of say? Who was he?

A chill swept through her. Apparently Leo didn’t have power over her: he had power. Period. One more detail about him she didn’t understand.

When she got bored watching the recently evicted guys tote their stuff out of the apartment building, she walked. The October air was especially lethal today as it sliced into her thin clothing and pummeled her bare skin. In her anger, she hadn’t thought about grabbing a coat, and now, due to stubbornness, Reese would go without.

She’d grown up in a town smaller than this, with ram-shackled houses in the middle of nice ones, like they’d been airlifted from a debilitated ghost town and strategically placed among the well-maintained houses to keep things interesting. She’d lived in one of those rundown houses. The paint was worn, blue, and chipping, the shingles peeling up. She imagined it looked the same as it had the day she’d left.

When Reese remembered that day, the normalcy of it always struck her as odd. There should have been something monumental to announce her departure, but there had been nothing but her mother’s angry eyes and her sister’s disillusioned ones.

Reese walked faster, always trying to physically escape her mind, and never able.

Her father left after her sister Morgan was born. Two days after, to be exact. She never knew why, and she never asked her mother. She had only known he hadn’t wanted to be there anymore, that he didn’t want them as a family. She was four the last time she saw him, and yet, whenever she was scared, in her head she still searched for a person she didn’t really know. Reese supposed she’d liked the idea of him—an invincible man larger than life that would come in one day and sweep her and her sister away from the horror of their childhood.

Only he never had. He never came to save them.

Chilled, she rubbed her arms. She needed to get a hobby. Walking could be considered one, she supposed, but how long could she walk? Reese was intelligent enough, but creativity had bypassed her when talents were doled out. She’d never been into reading. Her eyes got tired from staring at the pages and her brain protested the need to think about what she was visually taking in. She didn’t like thinking. She liked mindless, numbing action.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wrapped around her and she stopped as her gaze lifted. ‘Liz’s,’ the singular coffee shop in town, greeted her eyes. The brick building housed two large picture windows that allowed a view of the interior with its vaulted ceilings and original wood walls adorned with local artwork. Mismatched furniture and tables with chairs were set up throughout, the designer chaos coming together in a perfect blend of oddities.

Maybe it was time to find a new place to be her unofficial hangout. It was pretty sad her workplace presently held the title.

As she watched, a woman with hot pink hair and turquoise glasses walked toward her. She opened the door and looked out at her. “You gonna stand outside all day or come in?”

Reese blinked, her eyes shifting around her as she looked for whoever the woman was addressing. She was the only one standing near the coffee shop. Surely she wasn’t talking to her?

“Yoo-hoo. Yes. You. Blondie. Gawkers are not allowed. There’s a sign. Either come in or go away.”

She searched the front of the building before she returned her gaze to the smirking woman. “There’s no sign.”

“No shit.” Her smirk turned into a grin. “Want to try a coffee sample?”

Reese loved the scent of coffee, but the taste—not so much. It was bitter to her, and too strong. “No.”

The woman shrugged. “Just admiring the scenery then?”

Scowling, she said, “Is there a law against pausing briefly outside of an establishment?”

“Nah. But you weren’t pausing. You were inspecting. Lingering.”

“And you care why?”

“I’m Liz. It’s my shop.”

“Wonderful.” She turned to go.

“You work for Leo Chavez, right? The guy who owns the tattoo shop down the street. You’re the receptionist?”

That got her attention. Reese looked closer at the woman. “Yeah. How do you know that?”

Liz pulled the top of her shirt down, showing more skin than Reese cared to see, and a flower tattoo. It was red, the petals thinning and curling outward in tendrils of inked beauty. “He did this, about four months ago. You were there, bad attitude firmly in place.”

She imagined Leo’s hands on this woman’s breast and it twisted her stomach. It bothered her—a lot. Reese remembered her now, remembered that day. Leo yelled at her after Liz left. She liked it when he yelled. It brought a rougher element to his voice, made it rumble even though it barely raised in volume. Leo didn’t lose his cool often. It made her seem important when he did, which was proof of how sick in the head she was. But that day, she hadn’t liked it, because that day, he’d reprimanded her with words that were true and scalding.

“Want people to respect you, don’t act like a child.”

Maybe he hadn’t been talking about himself, but in some part of her she tried to deny, she did want his respect, and his words had pissed her off because of that. She’d stormed out without finishing her daily job duties. She’d felt like an attention-deprived brat who would do anything to get some reaction from the grownup she idolized.

“Figured you were either sleeping together or had at some point.”

Reese frowned at her. Liz was pushy, blunt, and rude, and she would know. “If you own the place, shouldn’t you be inside it?”

“Since I own the place, I can do whatever the hell I want. Come in, you look lost.” Her words had a double meaning, and Reese caught them.

She met the woman’s blue eyes. “No. I’m not lost. Thanks anyway.”

Liz shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She went back inside, the heaviness of the door causing it to bang shut when she released it.

Reese stood there, watching people do their Sunday business. Everyone had a place to go, people to see. They moved with purpose while she stood, stuck, unmoving. A couple walked by holding hands and entered the coffee shop. The opening of the door brought warmth and the scent of brewed coffee beans toward her. She decided to look at her current placement as a sign, and with a sigh, followed them in.

Liz bustled past with a carafe and a wink, which Reese pretended not to see. A cacophony of voices hit her, along with fast-paced punk music. That surprised her, but the patrons either didn’t mind or were used to it. She was in the middle of the room, in the way of workers and customers alike, unsure where to go. Reese’s eyes flitted over an overflowing bookshelf, a kaleidoscopic of abstract art on the walls, and landed on the girl at the register. She had blond hair pulled back in a ponytail and a warm smile on her face.

“Hi,” she greeted in a bubbly voice. “Would you like to try a smoothie or coffee sample?”

“Sure?” She took slow steps forward, aware people were behind her, waiting to order.

The smile grew, showing straight white teeth. “Which would you like? Is this your first time here?” Her words were fast and her body bounced with unleashed energy.

“I’ll try a smoothie. And yes.”

“First time customers get a complimentary drink of their choice. Do you want a sample first to see if you like it? We have blueberry-banana or strawberry today.”

“Do the flavors change daily?”

“Uh-huh. Like the music. It depends on Liz’s mood. She was in a growly one today.” She spoke loudly, winking at her boss as she came up beside her.

“Sundays do that to me,” Liz supplied with a small smile for her employee. She looked at Reese and the smile faded. “What kind do you want to try?”

“Blueberry-banana sounds adventurous. I’ll go with that.”

“I’ll get it, Tina. You help the next customer.”

“Okay! Hope we see you again.” Tina flashed another grin and moved to the second register, immediately chatting with the elderly lady who came up to order.

“She’s happy.” Even as she said it, she wondered what that was like. What would it feel like to not have the weight of her past on her at all times? Everything she did, said, felt, or thought, was connected to an ugliness she couldn’t change.

“Annoyingly so,” Liz agreed, but her eyes smiled. “Go find a seat. I’ll bring it out. If you like it, I’ll get you a regular-sized one.”

Dismissed, Reese turned and walked to a gray leather chair beside the window. It was lumpy and she found it to her liking as she sank into its worn comfort. As soon as she did, she wondered what the hell she was doing, but then she smiled. The atmosphere was welcoming, and she respected the quality of the edgy music. This could be her new hangout.

But it doesn’t have Leo.

Good. That’s what you want, right?

She clenched her hands into fists in her lap and stared out the window, wondering what she was doing and why she continued to do it. He was never going to want her. She was damaged goods.

Reese didn’t understand half the things she did, so why would anyone else want to take the time to figure her out? All she ever did was screw up, again and again. That was the one thing she could count on. Her brain and heart didn’t get along most of the time, and when she couldn’t deal with something, she eradicated it.

“One blueberry-banana smoothie for your sampling enjoyment.”

Reese jumped at the sound of Liz’s voice as the small cup of pale purple substance was thrust toward her. She reached for it, murmuring her thanks.

Liz scratched her pink head and looked down her wide nose at her. “You need to smile more. You’re nice to look at, but if you smiled? You’d be a knockout.”

“Is the psychological analyzing a perk of stopping at your establishment? If so, I’ll be sure not to come back.”

Ignoring that, Liz continued. “You know what works best when life sucks?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” Reese said dryly.