Strip Me Bare (27 page)

“I’m not going to jail.”

“Not this time.”

“Not ever again.”

“Do you really believe that? Because what’s
going to happen the next time Sean uses your name? Or borrows your
car? Or shows up on your doorstep looking for a place to live with
a Ziploc full of heroin in his pocket? He’ll never change if he
knows there are no consequences for his actions. So you’re right
about one thing, I’m not going to stick around to have a future
with you like that.”

I storm out of the room and down the stairs.
Goddamn it, why did I ever give up smoking?

I find myself in the kitchen. A room that’s
bright and airy even in the dark. I flick on a small light
underneath the cabinets and sit down at the table, dropping my head
despondently onto my arms. Ugh. If I thought Jack the Stripper was
a challenge to deal with, I was in no way prepared for Ryan
Pierce.

Walking away from him is the last thing I
want to do, but how are we ever going to have a future like this?
Constantly looking over our shoulders, worrying how Sean might
destroy our lives next.

“Alana?” Ryan’s voice is guarded in the
shadows.

“Yeah?” My voice doesn’t sound much better. I
don’t pick my head up as he walks toward me, the wood floor
creaking underneath his footsteps.

“I don’t want to push you away.”

“And I don’t want you believing all the
bullshit your family pumps into your head.”

“I don’t.”

“Ryan-” I say cynically.

“I try not to,” he fires back rapidly.

I don’t know what else to say. I’m not in the
mood to fight or lecture or preach. I just want to go back to bed
with my boyfriend and pretend tomorrow is never going to come.

“Do you want to leave me Alana?” Ryan asks
anxiously.

“Do you want me to leave you Ryan?” I respond
softly.

“No,” he rasps.

“Then there’s your answer.”

“I don’t know what to do about Sean and my
mom,” he admits self-consciously. “They’re the only family I have
and I’m terrified to lose them.”

“No one understands what that’s like better
than me,” I turn and hug him, pressing my cheek firmly into his
abdomen, “but they’re not the only family you have.”

Ryan clutches onto me. “I’m terrified to lose
you too.”

I must have paced back and forth a thousand
times.

Ever since Ryan and Emily left for court this
morning I haven’t been able to sit still. Since I can’t set foot
anywhere near that courthouse, I sent Emily in my place for moral
support. If I can’t be there for Ryan, at least he can have the
next best thing. I keep telling myself that everything will be
fine; the deal is on the table and has already been accepted. All
Ryan has to do is stand in front of Judge Reynolds, plead guilty,
sign some paperwork and leave.

So what the hell is taking so long?

The massive front door of my uncle’s home
suddenly swings open as Emily enters. She’s wearing a casual pant
suit with a long black coat, her dark hair pulled back into a low
ponytail.

She’s accessorized perfectly, but is missing
one key thing; Ryan.

“Hey,” I bum rush her. “Where’s-”

She puts her hand up, silencing me. The grave
expression on her face telling me something went terribly
wrong.

“Em?”

“Alana,” her voice is shaky, and it looks
like she’s holding back tears, “Judge Reynolds was rushed to the
hospital this morning with appendicitis.”

“What?” My voice is small.

“All of his cases were redistributed to other
judges.”

The floor suddenly feels like it’s
quaking.

“Em, what are you telling me?”

“He went in front of your father.”

All I can do is shake my head fervently as
she speaks.

“He rejected Ryan’s plea. He remanded him and
scheduled his sentencing for next week.”

“No, Em,” I refute. “Everything was worked
out!” I’m in complete denial.

“Shelly tried to push for the deal, but your
dad was adamant.”

“Twenty years, Emily. That’s what he’s going
to give him. You know my father,” I say frantically. This can’t be
happening; Ryan isn’t supposed to go back to jail.

“I know.” She tries to hug me, but I just
push her away.

“Don’t.”

“Alana,” she says sympathetically, but I’m
not having it. My thoughts are in an uproar as I pace around the
foyer. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.
This isn’t how it’s
supposed to be.

“Give me your keys,” I demand, motivation
striking me.

“What?” Emily says flabbergasted.

“Give me your car keys, I need to go
somewhere.” I hold out my hand sternly.

“Where?” She puts the keys to her BMW in my
palm.

I take them hastily, but I don’t answer. I
head for the door instead without even grabbing a coat; Emily
calling my name.

I pull into the parking lot of the Americana
diner, tires screeching to a halt. Without losing momentum I storm
out of the car and into the cold December air, praying to God
Ryan’s mother is working. As soon as I walk inside I see her
standing behind the counter in her pink shirt and black apron. I
put on the most composed mask I can and stalk quickly up to her. I
don’t want to make a scene, but if she doesn’t tell me exactly
where Sean is, I’ll turn this place into a Bon Jovi concert at
Madison Square Garden. I may not be able to cry, but I sure as fuck
can scream.

I don’t give her the chance to say hi, hello
or good morning, assuming she’d even be so hospitable.

“Where’s Sean?” I demand in a low voice.

She hesitates, gazing at me with distrustful
eyes. “I don’t know.”

“You’re lying. Tell me.”

“I haven’t seen him in over a week.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t know where I can
find him.”

She huffs and looks away, a worn expression
on her face.

“Ryan is sitting in a jail cell for the
second time because of Sean, and it’s clear you’re not going to do
a damn thing about it. So I am. Now please just tell me where he
is,” I press forcefully.

She sighs painfully, and I know she’s torn
between giving up one son to save the other. “It’s no place for a
sweet girl like you.”

I lean over the counter enraged, my blonde
hair falling forward. “If you don’t give me the address, I’ll show
you just how
sweet
I can be,” I seethe.

She glares at me surprised and then
reluctantly pulls out the pad from her apron. She scribbles
something down, then rips off the paper and hands it to me.

“I hope you’re prepared for what you find,”
she says contemptuously.

I snatch the piece of paper, turn around and
leave without even so much as a thank you.

I punch the address
into the GPS and begin to drive. The ETA is twenty-one minutes,
I’ve never been to the bad side of Asbury, but I have a sinking
feeling I’m driving straight into the heart of darkness.

I travel into Asbury Park following the
robotic voice’s commands. The buildings are all spray painted and
worn, the sidewalks covered with debris and the shady looking
characters hanging out on the street corners are eyeing up the
white girl driving the Bimmer. If Emily’s car gets jacked, she’ll
decapitate me. I double check to make sure the doors are locked. I
pull down a little side road with dilapidated houses, chain link
fences and barking dogs. The GPS tells me I have arrived at my
destination, a two-story house with dirty siding and a few
boarded-up windows. Just looking at it turns my insides arctic.

I park across the street and cut the engine,
but I don’t get out of the car right away. I need to mentally
prepare myself for what’s inside. I’ve never known a full-fledged
drug addict. I’ve known people who do drugs, but this here, is on a
whole nother level.

I can’t stop myself from picturing Ryan,
sitting alone in a concrete jail cell with his entire future on the
line while Sean roams around free; insolent and blameless.

It’s eating me alive.

I finally get out of the car wishing I was
armed with a fully loaded semi as I walk up to the decaying house,
climb the front steps then knock on the door; timidly at first,
then a little harder. I wait, and then knock again, the dried paint
crumbling under my knuckles. Finally, the door cracks open and I
catch a glimpse of a man with a thick beard and grungy clothes.

“What?” he croaks.

“I’m looking for Sean Pierce,” I say with a
shaky voice.

“Who?”

“Sean Pierce,” I enunciate.

The strung out guy eyes me over, “You looking
to score?”

My heartbeat ceases to exist.

“Yes, a friend told me where I could find
him.”

There are so many pretenses in that
sentence.

The door swings open, and I hesitate for a
split second before I walk in. I’m so jittery I must have convinced
him I needed a fix.

The inside of the house is disgusting;
garbage is littered all over the floor, dingy people are lying on
dirty blankets and filthy pillows, and it smells like burnt hair.
As I walk cautiously through the living room, everyone gawks at me
with vacant eyes; phantom beings who look like the life has been
wrung right out of them. I wrap my arms around myself as I follow
grungy beard guy through the house. He stops in a doorway adjacent
to the kitchen. “He’s all yours,” he says, then shuffles away.

This whole experience seems surreal; a
ghostly dream stemming from a deep dark reality.

I walk through the entryway and nearly puke
from what I find. Sean is passed out on a soiled mattress. His face
is sucked out and his body is thin. He looks almost dead. I inch
slowly into the ice cold room and stand over him. I don’t
understand it. Addiction. The pull or the control, the want or the
need. I don’t understand how this beautiful boy can be laying there
so far gone and still look as innocent as a child. Staring at Sean,
I think about what he said at Culture, how he’s afraid Ryan will
end up like him. An addict? Or just hopeless and alone. Seeing him
now, I’m sure I’d die before I let Ryan, or anyone else I loved,
end up like this.

I also realize Sean’s not insolent or
blameless, he’s trapped. And it whisks a welter of emotions inside
me.

I don’t know how long I wait; minutes, hours,
days maybe for Sean to wake up, and just when I can no longer take
the frigid temperature or the heartrending scene in front of me, he
stirs. He moans softly as he shifts and moves, like he’s trying to
remember how to use his limbs. I just stand there statically,
watching him come back to life. Finally, he opens his eyes and
takes in a deep breath. He looks around a little disoriented, like
he’s not sure where he is, then his eyes fall on me. They’re
bloodshot and hollow and have purple rings around them.