Casting Stones (Stones Duet #1) (4 page)

David knows my situation. He thinks I have potential to do something really good with my life. He wants me to be something great.

WITH HER LONG
mahogany hair matted across the pillow, I stare at my mother whose narrowed, glassy eyes are a telltale sign of her state. “Shit! Not tonight, Mom. Not tonight.” I mumble when I see the thick elastic band around her bicep. I can’t stand this! I can’t stand what she does to herself. But most of all, I can’t stand that I have to witness this atrocity because I am her daughter.

After grabbing the packed bag as if it were an emergency survival kit, I stop by her room a final time. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Don’t go anywhere.” My stern warning will fall upon deaf ears as she will no doubt wander out onto the streets.

“Love you, Remy,” she says with a quiet voice, rolling over to look through the dirty window.

“Yep. Okay.” I respond sarcastically. I don’t return the sentiment because if she really loved me, I wouldn’t be heading out to do what I have to do. I turn off the light and close the bedroom door after giving my mom a final once over, shaking my head at the pathetic sight of her.

My count only gets to five today when I hear her weary voice.

“Remy?”

With a huff, I poke my head through the door I’ve reopened. “What?”

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…” she sings the familiar tune.

I close my eyes and will my mouth to remain closed and refrain from uttering the derogatory things I want to say. “Just go to sleep... and don’t go anywhere.”
Sunshine.
I snort sarcastically, thinking there’s nothing sunny or shiny about me.

I’m thankful for my short hair now that the stagnant, humid summer air blankets the night sky. As I walk the few blocks to the subway station, I’m aware of the heavy footsteps trailing behind me. I ignore his mumblings about why I’m so stubborn after I walked right past the open car door. I look around at the rows of apartments that are so close together you could literally pass your neighbor a cup of sugar, an egg or two, a dime bag or even a couple of pills. Through the reflection of a passing bus, I see the shadow of the familiar figure, still following less than ten yards behind. I turn, he turns. I take the stairs to the subway, he does, too. I’m not afraid; I’m well aware of the fact that he’s just doing his job.

As the train rumbles down the track, I look around at the crowd of people heading home for the night, while others head out for a night on the town. I sigh deeply and scroll through my phone and pull the hood of my lightweight fleece over my head as a shiver runs through me. I feel off tonight. I don’t know exactly what it is, but something doesn’t feel right. I should’ve taken the summer off like any normal graduate student. My upcoming classes this fall are going to be really difficult, heavy on the rigorous content. I need a break, physically and mentally.

The weight of someone staring at me causes me look up. I meet the face of the older, balding man, whose remaining grey hair is slicked back and greasy. With careful eyes and a predatory smile that stretches across his horrifically scarred face, he watches me. When his mouth opens, he utters the words that send chills down my spine. “Her debt grew bigger today.
A lot
bigger.”

I blink cautiously as my eyes dart to the closed door, praying it would open so I could make a mad dash through before he can match me step for step.

“Somebody needs to pay.” His voice drops to a deep whisper as his eyes pin mine.

Even if I wanted to speak, my voice is wedged somewhere behind the boulder in my throat. I simply nod in acknowledgment. For as long as I can remember, every Friday night, like clockwork, it’s the same thing; he waits beside the black car making sure the debtor pays her debt. As he often reminds me, the balance due must always be paid…one way or another.

I respond to Jenna’s text asking what I’m wearing tonight. I think my normal attire of cut off shorts and T-shirt will suffice for our usual late Friday night. My phone is quickly stashed away in the side pocket of my backpack as I rise to stand when I see my stop approaching. I step through the sliding door before he does and quicken my pace. I know he’s behind me, walking slowly, making sure I get to my destination unharmed. No one wants damaged goods. I glance back for the last time and see him nod at me before I turn the corner and head around to the back of the building.

I greet the weekend security guard and pull open the door. Loud music assaults my ears. I narrow my eyes as they adjust to the bright fluorescent lights. I nod and look glumly at the few people scurrying around.

“Hey, baby girl. Why are you so sad tonight?” Candy asks, looking at me in the mirror while she applies another layer of mascara to her already thick lashes. I don’t know why she even bothers; the dark eye shadow and thick eyeliner hide her deep-set, big brown eyes.

“I’m tired. And I don’t want to be here,” I answer her honestly after pulling my eyes away from the small picture of her son taped to the mirror. The little boy in his arms has the same blue eyes and blond hair.
Blue eyes and blond hair.
I bite back the annoyance brought on by the memory of the gorgeous man at the diner. Fifteen dollars tip for a coffee and a muffin! Who does that? I walk away and bend down, casting my eyes downward. I spin the combination lock and open the small storage space that is reserved for me. I hate the contents and all they stand for.

“How’s your mom?” The sympathy rings loud in Candy’s raspy voice.

An icy glare is my answer.

“I wish I could do something for you.”

“Well, you can’t,” I offer sheepishly before mumbling, “No one can.”

“Do the best you can, honey.” She runs the tube of red lipstick across her lips and smacks them together. “You know it’s going to get real busy after the game.”

“I know,” I slam the locker shut and get ready for whatever the night will bring.

Shane

I REMOVE MY
hat and do my best to stand at attention when a young, rising pop star walks to the pitcher’s mound to sing the National Anthem. I look around at the thousands of people who’ve flocked to watch a baseball game and wonder how many of them actually know the words or even realize what it stands for. How many of these people actually understand the price that is paid? How many truly understand the sacrifice?

Eric and his buddies are too drunk to even stand straight. I had no idea things would get this crazy so fast. What was supposed to be a few beers turned into a few shots and before I know it, I can’t feel anything. I’m pretty buzzed and I know better than to drink so much. It’s not something I do…often.

“Yo, wait till you see this! It’s fucking awesome! Nobody puts on a show like Boston!” Eric shouts above the roar of the fans cheering as the Star- Spangled Banner comes to a close. My shoulders tense and I grip the wooden seat in front of me at the high-pitched familiar sound. Wrenching my eyes shut, I bow my head, inhaling and exhaling slowly as the dark night sky illuminates with whizzing light and sound, screaming higher into the air before exploding into a huge display of color. Even with my eyes closed, I know what it looks like. The image is forever etched in the recesses of my mind. I breathe in the stagnant air and adjust my hat, willing my body to calm down. My mouth is dry. I can’t swallow; even the cold beer does little to quench my sudden thirst.

I try hard to concentrate on the game; the long standing rivalry between the Sox and the Yankees is as big as any in history. Fenway Park erupts as fans scream and cheer wildly when in the bottom of ninth Dustin Pedroia hits a grand slam over the Green Monster to tie the game up, sending it into extra innings. My head is buzzing from the alcohol earlier.

Across the field, the screen lights up with the image of a man and woman. When she realizes they’re on the screen, she grabs him and kisses him hard. Everyone in the crowd cheers wildly and the grin on my face slips when I see her short blond hair. I squint to get a clearer image of the girl from the diner. Curiosity begs me to see who this guy is. His hands tangle in her short hair and his tongue devours her mouth. My lips tighten as anger fuels me. I don’t understand my reaction. Maybe I need to stop drinking for the rest of the night. Red hearts flash on the screen, illuminating the words, “Will you marry me?” as the man drops to his knee and proposes.
Say no. Say no. Say no.

The beautiful woman cups her mouth and nods profusely, accepting his offer.
Fuck.
The camera zooms in as tears stream down her face before she wipes her cheeks and dries her bright blue eyes.
Blue eyes?
I stare at the screen carefully. I stare at the blue eyed woman and realize it’s not the same girl from the diner. I would know those green eyes anywhere.

“Yo, I’m going to take a piss,” I yell into Eric’s ear.

“Dude, you’re going to miss the best part of the game.” His beer breath smacks my face, making my stomach roll with nausea.

“Nah, it’s all right. I’ll watch from up there.” I say already maneuvering through the crowded row of seats to make my way up the stairs.

I wait by the concession stand for the game to finish instead of pushing my way back to my seat. The phone in my pocket buzzes and when I pull it out, I see my sister’s name. Again.She keeps asking me to come down to visit. For God’s sake, I just got up here not too long ago. I know she’s having a tough time with her marriage and all, but there’s not really much I can do except kick her philandering husband’s scrawny ass.

When the game finally ends and the Sox win, the fans celebrate as fireworks again light up the night sky. I get lost in a sea of red as I fight my way to meet up with the guys. Pulling the brim of my ballcap lower to shield my eyes from the bright flares, I find a place of refuge under the stairs and look around again before I finally text Eric. Nothing. I even call him a few times, but I get no response. I turn and follow the crowd as we exit the stadium in mass exodus. It’s hot as hell and I’m starting to feel the agitation make its way up my body. I wrack my alcohol-induced brain to figure out which way I need to go to get to the T-train. I know I sound like a loser for even thinking about going home on a Friday night when Boston is alive, but I know the adrenaline pumping through my body is going to leave me fatigued soon enough.

“Yo, Shane! Over here, bro!” Eric shouts, narrowly missing being hit by an oncoming car as he runs across the street. “Where’d you go?” he slurs and slaps me on the shoulder as he guides me in the opposite direction away from my ride home. “Man, you gotta come with us. It’s your welcome to Boston, bro.”

After walking a few blocks, we stop at a dive bar for another round of shots. I sit this one out, telling them that I need to take a phone call outside. Through the window I notice a crew is setting up the area for the cover band that is scheduled to play in about an hour. I walk back in, scan across the crowded bar and see a woman talking and laughing with a group of people. It looks as though she was poured into the short, skin-tight dress. When the woman sees me, she leans in and kisses one of the guys she was just talking to. She pulls her lips from his and smiles at me as if she’s inviting me to join in. Of all the bars in Boston, Dana has to be at this one with her friends. She raises her martini glass as her eyes travel the length of my body. I raise my chin with a simple acknowledgement, turn and ask the bartender for a beer.

“So, you’ve met the infamous Dana Verrano…” Eric grins, tossing the words into the air between us after downing his third shot as I sip my beer.

“Yeah, I met her. She’s one of the secretaries.” I answer stiffly.

“Have you tapped that yet?”

“Hell no!” I swallow down the lager.

“Watch her. She’ll eat you alive.”

My eyes open wide. “Have you—”

“Fuck that!” He holds up his left hand, showing me his wedding band. “Six years, bro.”

I nod with understanding and force back the twinge of jealousy. I could’ve been married right now if I didn’t fuck things up so badly. I will always regret not asking Mia to marry when me I had the chance.