Edge (Gentry Boys #7) (4 page)

“You know,” I said, leaning toward Emily’s ear. “My feet are killing me.  Think I’m going to sit down and relax.  By myself.” 

She gave me a worried look.  “You all right?”

“Fine. ” I wiggled my eyebrows and tilted my head in Jackson’s direction, hoping that she’d get the message. 

She did.  She gave me a mischievous smile. 

Once I’d started picking my way through the crowd I glanced back once, noting with satisfaction that Emily was already talking a mile a minute and Jackson was laughing. 

Now that I was on my own though I didn’t know where to go.  As I squeezed around various bodies a few men checked me out with blunt interest but the power of my own suggestion had gotten to me. I just wanted to sit down and exit the fray for a few minutes.  Above the din of a hundred conversations the music was kicked up a notch.  I recognized the powerful opening chords of
All Along the Watchtower
. 

“Shit,” I swore, stumbling and spilling my soda when my ankle suddenly rolled. 

The back strap of my left sandal had broken.  Luckily a black vinyl couch was there for me to tumble into.  The seat was warm.  Someone else must have occupied it a moment ago.  It was darker over here on the far side of the room, less crowded.  No one seemed to have noticed my clumsy plunge so I silently cursed cheap footwear and flexed my foot. 

All those years of dancing in my youth counted for something now and then.  I could be thankful for strong ankles that might have otherwise meant a nasty sprain.  This was just a slight twinge that wouldn’t last longer than a few minutes.  Still, losing a shoe was never convenient. 

I sank back on the sofa with a sigh.  That’s when I noticed the seat beside me was taken.  I didn’t know when that had happened.  I was sure he hadn’t been sitting there when I tripped my way over here.  

He stared at me.  I stared back, feeling the shock of unexpected recognition. 

Of course he recognized me too.  It would have been even stranger if he hadn’t. 

“You look different,” I said automatically. 

The shaggy blonde hair that used to fall into his eyes was clipped close.  It was closer to black now.  His jaw was covered with careless stubble, like it had been at least a few days since he shaved.  His t-shirt and old jeans were unimpressive but I couldn’t help but notice that his muscles were
very
impressive, as was the colorful tattoo sleeve running the length of his right arm. There was something altogether harsher and more dangerous about him. I had to look closely to see the shadow of the careless, handsome seventeen-year-old boy I remembered. 

He’d heard me over all the noise.  Something lit up in his blue eyes.  It might have been pain or maybe it was anger.  I’d never known him well enough to recognize the difference in the first place.  Six years had passed since we were face to face. 

“You look exactly the same, Roe,” he answered in a deep, gruff voice. 

Whatever turmoil had been lurking behind his eyes disappeared, replaced by something else as his gaze traveled hungrily downward, over my body.  I wasn’t prepared for that.  I was used to being boldly checked out by men but in light of who I was and who he was and what we’d lost together, this felt like an insult. 

I felt my fists clench as my stomach tightened.  I closed my eyes for longer than a blink and was fleetingly slapped by the hand of grief.  I opened them again and looked at the boy who was now a man. 

“Hello, Conway.”

CONWAY

It would have been easy to avoid her. 

I’d watched her walk in, drift through the crowd with her friend, pause at the bar and then wander off when her hyperactive gal pal started talking to my buddy, Jackson.  She hadn’t seen me I could have kept it that way with virtually no effort.  I didn’t know what the hell made me suddenly cut through the crowd to take a seat at her side.  We’d never even been friends.  

Roe Tory had started out in Emblem.  I’d known her since grade school although there was nothing in particular about her prissy girl manners that got my attention back then.  Her father had struck it rich through some real estate ventures and she’d moved away to a better zip code some time in middle school.  That hadn’t been the last I’d seen of her though.  Roe had remained best friends with an Emblem girl and she’d visited frequently, right up until the end. 

Her best friend had been Erin.  My Erin. 

“You look exactly the same, Roe,” I said and it was mostly true.  She’d always been head-turning pretty tinged with conceited sex appeal.  Erin used to get mad and accuse me of being unfair whenever I dismissed Roe as a stuck up brat.  In the space of a few brief seconds I saw that Roe was still hot as shit but some of those layers of superior arrogance appeared to have been shaved away. 

Roe fidgeted, swallowed and said my name like the word hurt her.  “Hello, Conway.” 

I knew girls.  I knew women.  Lord knows I’ve been inside enough of them.  I could tell when they were being coy or flirty because the chase was part of the fun.  Roe Tory wasn’t really interested in being chased at the moment, not that I was going to try anyway.  In fact I would guess that she really just wanted to jackknife off that cheap sofa and run away from me.  I reminded her of bad things.  I hadn’t done her any favors by saying hello. There was nothing for us to talk about. 

“Oh, by the way it’s Roslyn now,” she said, a flush spreading on her cheeks. 

“What is?” I asked. 

“My name.”  She fidgeted slightly, pulling on the short hem of her dress. “I go by Roslyn, not Roe, these days. I haven’t answered to that nickname since I was a kid.” 

“I see,” I told her, letting my eyes drift down again over the curve of her tits.   I actually didn’t do it on purpose. It’s just that I’d been out of the game for too long and the sight of nice looking tits in a red dress made me a little crazy, no matter who they were attached to.  I also didn’t get hard on purpose but my dick always had a way of waking up on its own. 

Roe, or Roslyn or whatever she called herself now cleared her throat with irritation and primly crossed her long legs at the ankles as she noticed how I’d been looking her over.  Her expression had gone from confused hurt to condescension but she didn’t fool me a damn bit.  She might have been annoyed about running into me given our history, but now her pretty brown eyes began roaming over my chest and arms.  I guess she couldn’t help it either. Maybe we’re all at the mercy of our most basic instincts.  

“It’s been a long time,” she finally said in a soft voice and tried to smile.  I saw the mirror of my own heartbreak in her smile.  “How have you been?” 

“Can’t complain,” I said lightly, my boner disappearing as a tide of emotion threatened to surface.  What the hell had I been thinking coming over here? “And you?”

Her wavy auburn hair fell across her face as she stared down at her lap.  “I’m good.  I just moved back here last year actually.  I went to college in North Carolina and at first I thought I might stay there.  But in the end I never could make it feel like home.”    

“North Carolina?” I frowned, remembering something. “I thought you had your years at Arizona State all planned out.” 

She flinched, her head snapping up.  She was probably wondering how the hell I’d known that.  Then she remembered and her shoulders slumped slightly.  Erin had talked about her best friend all the time, about their plans to be roommates at ASU.  Of course that hadn’t happened.  Erin never even had the chance to graduate from high school. 

“Just didn’t work out that way,” she mumbled, crossing her arms as if hugging herself for comfort.  I had nothing to say about that so I just nodded.  I knew all about shattered plans.  I’d once had plans too. 

I swallowed the rest of my beer while Roslyn shifted a few inches farther away, like she was trying to melt into the leather armrest.  When my bottle was drained I set it on the ground.  It seemed like just as good a place as any. 

“Do you know the host?” she asked. 

“The what?”

“The guy who apparently owns this place.” 

I shrugged.  “A little.  He owes me money.” 

She glanced around.  “Seems like he’d be good for it.” 

“I’ll fucking get it whether he’s good for it or not.” 

Roslyn eyed me.  “What do you do anyway?”

“Depends on who I’m doing it to.” 

She sighed.  “You know what I mean.  How do you earn a living?” 

I grinned.  “Through a variety of diverse and eclectic means.” 

“You mean illegal.” 

“You a cop?”

She smiled a little.  “No.  I work at a shelter.”

“For dogs?”

“It’s a housing center for families.  I help get them settled and search for better work so they can move out on their own.” 

I mulled that over; snooty, over-accessorized Roe toiling away for the greater good.  “That’s not the kind of job I would have guessed you’d have.” 

“What would your guess have been?”

“Don’t know.  Maybe wine taster.  Wedding planner.  Seller of four thousand dollar handbags to idiots with money to burn.” 

She bristled.  “Well, you never did know me very well, Conway.” 

“Likewise, Roslyn.” 

She looked at me with a touch of sadness. Neither one of us had uttered Erin’s name yet.  I wondered who would crack first. 

I pointed at the crowd.  “Your boyfriend in there somewhere?” The question was rhetorical. I already knew the answer.  No man worth his dick would be okay with leaving a girl like Roe/Roslyn to roam around this skin and sausage orgy. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said quietly. 

I leaned toward her, close enough to smell her fruity salon shampoo.  “What a happy coincidence.  Neither do I.” 

It was just the kind of bullshit thing I’d say to any random girl, whether I intended to get busy with her or not.  The problem was I was having a hard time pretending Roslyn was just some random girl. 

She blinked and fidgeted.  “Good for you.” 

I didn’t think about it.  I just did it.  I ran the back of my knuckles along her bare arm, just a brief brush of flesh against flesh.  An electric current of lust crackled between us and a shiver ran through her.

“It could be good for you too, honey,” I told her in a low voice filled with sex.  

I was kidding.  Sort of.  Somewhere along the way I’d forgotten how to have an honest conversation with a beautiful woman.  At least I knew when I was being an asshole, not that the fact often changed my attitude. 

Her eyes narrowed and she lifted her chin with a haughty sneer.  All of a sudden I saw the snotty teenage girl I had once disliked.  She’d always thought her best friend could do a lot better than a sleazy Gentry.  I hadn’t even realized the idea still stung.

“Stop it, Conway,” she commanded.   

I lit a cigarette.  “Stop what, sweet tits?”

“Stop acting like we’re just two strangers who might flirt, hook up and then forget each other’s names.  It’s not happening.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.  I couldn’t forget your name,
Roslyn
.” 

She shook her head, looking miserable.  “We can’t sit here and banter about bullshit, pretending like there’s no history there.”

I got angry.  “You think I can ever fucking pretend that?”

“No.” She winced.  “I didn’t mean it like that. Conway, I can’t imagine how horrible it must have been for you to have lost everything the way you did but that doesn’t mean-“

“Fuck this,” I grunted, putting the cigarette out on the couch.  It left a hole. I turned back to Roslyn with a scowl.

“If you want to wax poetic about the agonies of youth there’s probably a few suckers around here who will suffer through that noise but I’m not one of them.” 

She cocked her head and looked at me curiously.  “So what
do
you want?”

I leaned back, staring at the ceiling, shading my eyes with my palm.  “If you’re making an offer, a blow job and another beer would be nice.” 

Roslyn was silent for so long I figured she must have left.  I took my hand away from my eyes and found her gazing sadly into her lap.  She must have felt me staring because she slowly raised her head. 

“This would have broken her heart,” she finally said. 

I knew who she was talking about, whose name was behind ‘her’. I also understood what she meant.  I made her say it anyway. 

“
What
would have broken her heart?”

She stood, shouldering her purse and glaring down with contempt. “To see what you’ve turned into. 
That
would have broken her heart, Conway.”

Then she walked away without looking back.  It was her way of making it clear she was done with me. 

ROSLYN

Emily wasn’t eager to leave the party.  Apparently she and the charming, mysterious Jackson were having a fine time getting to know one another.  When I found them in the increasingly drunken sea of people they were standing intimately close and exchanging flirty laughter that from a distance seemed about two steps away from turning horizontal.  I felt guilty about interrupting but a war was brewing under my skin.

I just needed to get the hell out of here before I felt tempted to go barreling back in the direction of Conway Gentry for another argument. 

Or worse. 

My roommate glanced up at my approach and did a double take with a frown.  I’d always envied those people who could wear cool masks of nonchalance, hiding the mayhem underneath.  My own face didn’t have such talents. 

“What’s wrong?” Emily mouthed but I shook my head and tried to smile even though my lips felt strangely numb.  The skin on the back of my neck prickled. I was tempted to glance over my shoulder to see if Conway’s brooding eyes were watching but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’d rattled me to the bone. 

“You’re limping,” Jackson noticed. 

“You are!” Emily exclaimed.  “Wait, where’s your other shoe?”

I kicked off my remaining shoe and bent down to retrieve it. That would have to be the end of this particular pair because I’d left the broken one on the other side of the room. No way was I threading back through the crowd and risking another encounter with Conway. 

“Casualty of war,” I said darkly.  I glanced around for a garbage can and when I didn’t find one I stuffed the lone shoe in my purse.  My arm still tingled from the memory of Conway’s brief touch, how it had stirred feelings of both desire and revulsion.  I didn’t particularly want to dwell on either one. 

Emily was looking at me and I could tell she was weighing the situation.  She’d clearly been having a good time and since tonight had been planned with the intent to get Emily’s mind off her chicken shit ex, I was scolding myself on the inside for being The Drag. 

Everyone knows who The Drag is; that one friend who manages to find a reason to be grim in the midst of everyone’s euphoria, the kind of person who won’t dive into a tub of champagne because it’s sticky or refuses to ride the carnival Ferris wheel because the line looks too long.  Standing in the middle of a cool party in all my shoeless sad sack glory, I was the walking incarnation of The Drag. 

“You know what?  It’s fine.
I’m
fine.  Think I’ll go get a drink,” I said brightly but that only made Emily’s frown line dig deeper. 

She nodded and turned to Jackson.  “We should really get going,” she said and I winced over the regret in her voice. 

Jackson stared down at her for a second, then leaned in and whispered something in her ear that I couldn’t hear.  However I could guess at the meaning since Emily’s face reddened and she bit her lip. 

“Another night,” she said and strained up on her toes to kiss him briefly on the lips. 

“And that will be a hell of a night,” said Jackson with a rueful grin, “
when
it happens.” 

Then he handed her his phone, indicating that she ought to add her number.  Once Emily had obliged she handed back the phone with reluctance. I felt like a voyeur, watching their fingers touch as they stared at each other. 

“It was nice meeting you,” I said politely once Emily took my arm and started steering me toward the door. 

“Yeah, it’s mutual,” said Jackson with a shrug but his eyes were still on my roommate and I figured there was a high likelihood he didn’t even remember my name.     

Emily waited until we were outside before she broke into giggles and swooned against my shoulder so hard we almost toppled off the curb together. 

“My god, he’s hot,” Emily sighed.  “I was almost tempted to toss away my principles and follow him anywhere he wanted to take me.”     

“Well, I’m glad you found a friend,” I said, trying to steer her back to the middle of the sidewalk. 

Emily pushed her black hair behind her ears and slowed her pace.  “I wonder if I’ll ever hear from him again.  What’s wrong with you anyway?”

I didn’t want to talk about Conway.  “Who says there’s something wrong with me?”

“I do.  You have the look of a trapped rabbit when something’s bothering you.”

“Must be indigestion from all that salad I ate at dinner.” 

“No, that’s not it.  And what really happened to your shoe?  Did someone steal it?”

“Seriously?  No.” 

“Well, I remember a story a few years back about a man who would steal shoes right off women’s feet in public places.”

I managed a laugh.  “What?”

“It’s true,” she insisted.  “Dozens of incidents were reported.  When the authorities finally caught up to him they found over eight hundred ladies’ shoes piled in his living room like a pyramid.”

“Em,” I said with a straight face,  “I swear no one committed a strong arm robbery against my wedge sandal.  The strap broke and I left it behind when I was trying to get away.” 

“Okay, I understand now.  Wait, who were you trying to get away from?”  Emily glanced over her shoulder in case my presumed stalker was on our heels.  

“It’s not a big deal. I probably imagined him.” 

We’d entered the cave of the parking garage.  The click of Emily’s heels echoed in the darkness with an eerie horror movie quality.  I felt around in my purse for my keys and pressed the unlock button. 

Emily hopped into the passenger seat and I immediately set the lock and started the engine.  I’d never liked dark places, quiet places, places that echoed and were surrounded by gray walls.  But my jittery nerves weren’t only due to the fact that we were two females alone in a city parking garage after dark.  I’d been shaken up in another way, a way that was much harder to explain.

We were approaching the exit when suddenly I gasped and slammed on the brakes. 

“What?” Emily cried, clutching the door handle and looking around fearfully. 

The shadow, shaped like a man, had emerged from the left.  I couldn’t see the face.  However, in the briefest of flashes I thought I’d recognized the broad shoulders. I’d been staring at them earlier tonight. But a split second later the car had lurched to a halt and as I got a better look I realized there was nothing there, nothing at all. 

“Roslyn?” questioned Emily. 

I took my foot off the brake and slowly pulled out of the garage.  “I thought I saw a coyote, that’s all.” 

“A coyote in downtown Phoenix?”

“Unlikely, I know.  I was just startled.” 

“Since when are you afraid of things like coyotes anyway?   You’ve told me before how much you loved seeing them all the time when you were young and lived in that little town.” 

“Emblem,” I whispered. 

“Yeah, Emblem.  Hey, that reminds me, do you remember Alex Dinkleman?”

“No.”

“From high school.  He used to snap bra straps and once licked the length of the gymnasium on a dare.” 

“Oh.”  Nothing about Alex Dinkleman rang a bell. 

“Anyway, his older brother was arrested for some kind of mortgage scam last year and now he’s serving his time down there at the prison in your old hometown.” 

“You don’t say.”  My mind’s eye flashed back to the behemoth state prison complex. Vast and encircled with barbed wire, it was an ugly landmark to man’s terrible possibilities.  It was funny; when I was a kid I’d scarcely noticed the prison.  It had just blended into the scenery of life.  But these days when I drove into town I couldn’t stop staring at it.

I wanted to drive right now, not just in stilted city traffic, but on the open road.  I wanted to just get on the nearest highway and keep driving until I found something worth stopping for.  Maybe west would be the way to go, toward Los Angeles.  It would be nice to watch the sun rise from a Pacific beach. Instead of jumping on the freeway I navigated the city streets back to our apartment.  Along the way we passed Homestead. I wondered how Krista and her babies were faring on their first night.

Even though the drive only lasted a few minutes, Emily was already dozing off when I pulled up to our apartment building. It was one of those restored midcentury buildings that brought quaint charm to an area that was being slowly revitalized by young professionals looking to be closer to downtown.   

Tonight a few people were hanging out on their balconies, enjoying a quiet evening.  The faint echoes of jazz music reached my ears as I opened the door. 

“Did you leave a candle burning?” Emily yawned as she threw her purse on the sofa and flicked on a light. 

“No, it’s the essential oil diffuser.” 

“Smells like Christmas candy.” 

“Peppermint.  With a drop of orange.” 

Since I was far too keyed up to consider sleep I started mixing up a loaf of banana bread.  Emily sat at the vintage black and white dinette and kept me company while cheerfully chewing through half a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips. 

“You still haven’t come clean,” she accused me as I placed the loaf in the center rack of the oven. 

I closed the oven door and set the timer.  “You want to lick the bowl?”

“Don’t be absurd, of course I do, but don’t change the subject.” 

“Remind me what the subject is.” 

Emily tapped her fingernails on the table.  “It’s whatever got you so spooked that you abandoned your shoe in your haste to get away from it.” 

I thought about Conway, about the lazy smile he’d given me and the fire that flashed in his eyes as he looked me over.  Funny, but I couldn’t remember a single conversation we’d ever had before.  We must have talked to each other at some point when we were kids.  Even after I moved away I would frequently visit Erin and whenever I did Conway was always around.  Yet somehow it seemed like we’d never faced each other directly until tonight. 

Emily was still waiting for an answer.  I ran a sponge under the tap and started wiping down the counter, carefully keeping my voice even.  “Just an old memory, that’s all.  Sometimes they surface when you least expect them to.” 

Emily tilted her head and I thought she was going to keep asking questions but then she changed her mind and folded over the chip bag before standing. 

“Roe,” she said softly, a rare use of my old nickname.  “If you ever want to talk about anything, I’m here for you.” 

For some reason my eyes welled with tears.  I knew Emily wasn’t just speaking empty words.  But seeing a piece of the past right there in the flesh, glaring at me balefully and making sexually charged comments had been confusing in a way I didn’t have words to explain. Maybe I’d be able to deal with it tomorrow, once I was able to get past the way my body had lit up when he touched me. I swear I could still feel it, even now. 

“Thanks, Em,” I whispered, and kept my eyes glued to the digital oven timer until I heard her shuffle down the hall to her bedroom. 

She’d never met Conway but she would have known the name if I’d mentioned it.  I’d told her all about them; Erin and the Gentry brothers. 

Conway had been Erin’s longtime boyfriend.  However it was his brother, Stone, who’d been driving the car when a fatal moment stole Erin from all of us.  I’d never been friendly with the Gentry brothers, not even when we were kids.   There was something about their family, a dangerous undercurrent of violence and shitty luck that seemed to follow them through the generations. Those two had started going through trouble and girls long before they should have known much about either one. But they’d lived next door to my best friend and she’d been crazy about the younger brother, Conway, for years until he grew into some common sense and fell for her in return.  I’d seen them together often enough to erase any doubt that they were truly in love. I even had a grudging kind of respect for Conway.  No matter how reckless he and his hell-raising brother were, the way he treated Erin redeemed him a lot, at least in my eyes. 

I could still remember the way her eyes shone whenever his name passed her lips, the way she would clasp her hands together and hold them close to her chest as if her heart was bursting. 

And I remembered him too, how he would open his arms for her and rest his chin atop her head.  Given my own history of romantic misfortunes I was far from an expert but I knew there was nothing fake about what Erin and Conway had together.

Maybe that was why it was so hard to merge the pictures in my memory with the brooding oversexed hood who’d shown up tonight. 

For a few minutes I just stood in the middle of the empty kitchen, listening to the sawing sound of Emily brushing her teeth.  Eventually I heard the creak of Emily’s bed and the fizzy noise of her sound machine.  

This apartment building was mostly full of over-educated twenty somethings determined to prove how non-conformist they were beneath their expensive clothes.  There was this guy on the first floor – Frank, I think his name was – who climbed up to the roof at least twice a week and belted out sad jazz on his saxophone.  He must have had a bad night because he’d just started playing and the sound echoing through the walls was even more mournful than usual.  I’d never met him but Emily had.  She said he was an accountant.