Page 51 of Roses, Pearls, and Hot Summer Nights
I shouldn’t have to keep reminding myself, since I knew her as Dina. She had told me her name and even what she wanted me to call her. Shaking my head, I realized I could probably even call her Mrs. Lent—it would be far more appropriate than Granny.
Better to avoid that particular road. Just because I didn’t have a family anymore, it didn’t give me permission to claim other people’s family as my own. I thought about Dina’s journals, remembering she’d experienced an uncomfortable bump at the start of her life, too, but she managed to still build something beautiful and wonderful. Maybe someday I could do the same.Friendsandfamily.I’d never really let myself consider the second half, but perhaps I could.
French braiding my hair seemed like too much effort for a Sunday, so I shifted my hair into two even braids instead, a faster and easier style. I reminded myself again to buy some lip gloss, since I still missed that part of my routine. My t-shirt readGood Vibesand I hoped it might bring me at least a little luck. My favorite sneakers, even with their hole, would have to do because they made me comfortable. Maybe I would bring them with me wherever I ended up for the rest of my life, my signature shoe. Even if they got too ratty to wear—which, arguably, might be already—they could live in my closet. They could become a constant reminder of who I am, so that I never forgot about the dark part of my life, no matter what happened later. I swallowed.What if these are the good times?What if things get even worse?
Bringing my chin up with a snap, I shook off the doubts. I wouldn’t let my thoughts drift into that territory.
None of the Lents had texted yet that morning, making me wonder if any of them would even be awake yet. Barrett had told me to go back to bed, but I wanted to do something special for them instead. They kept taking care of me, and I would be lyingif I pretended I wasn’t grateful. I still had money from Dina—not Granny—so I could buy them something without my aunt or family ever knowing about it. I headed quickly for the bagel store on the corner. I decided I would walk there, buy the bagels, and make it back to the building without getting lost—an easy enough task.
Striding quickly, I admitted I could probably get myself back and forth to the Park, too, so long as I stuck to familiar paths. From what I saw on maps, the whole borough of Manhattan was set up in a grid, so surely I could puzzle it out eventually.
The doorman nodded to me as I passed. I didn’t know his name, but I was sure Barrett would if he were there. I smiled, thinking it only one of his many wonderful traits. I shivered a little, remembering how he held me all night in what likely was too intimate to be considered a cuddle.It was more like he was my lifeline. I rubbed my arms, unable to stop myself from wondering … What would the twins be like?
Okay. Wow.I’m getting out of hand.
But then I saw him. I stopped abruptly, but luckily no one slammed into me from behind.The man from last night. The one Barrett thought he had seen before stood right in front of me. He scurried to the left and then lost his balance, striking me across the face when he did.
“I’m sorry,” he yelled as he darted left to get away. My skin burned and dizziness made me sink to my knees.Oh wow. The shock of the impact still left stinging shocks down my spine, and my face was on fire.Why does that same man keep showing up?
Although he didn’t make a big impression the night before, I would never forget him again, not after he basically punched me in the face. I realized vaguely that no one had punched me since Chicago.Why do I always end up getting hit?
Tears erupted and I couldn’t contain them even if I tried. My cheek hurt. I just wanted to get bagels, but there was a strange, bald, huge man clearly everywhere I went blocking me.
I didn’t even bother to look up when tires screeched to a stop a few inches away from me, bumping up onto the sidewalk from where someone sped down the street. As miserable as I felt right then, maybe they would just take me out?
“Alatheia?” I heard Phoenix’s voice before I saw him, but then tears still poured out of my eyes, blurring my vision. He sank down in front of me, and I noticed he wore the same clothes from the night before. As his tired eyes met mine, I figured they were a more permanent problem for him. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
I threw my arms around him, wailing louder, if it were possible. I didn’t know Phoenix well enough to cling to him in my moment of weakness, but he was there and it mattered. “I got hit,” I sniffled. “Hard.”
“What?” His arms slid around me easily then tightened. “Who hit you? What the fuck?”
I shook, sobs still not fully under control. “Sorry. I always shake like this after I get hit. It startles me. I never see it coming, not that it makes it less pathetic.” I couldn’t seem to stop talking, words falling out of me like it might make things better.
“You’ve been hit before?” he asked, his eyes gone cold.
I shrugged, the who not nearly as important as the pain to me. “There was a random man. We keep seeing him. Last night around when you left, Barrett noticed him, too, and said he’d seen him before. I didn’t realize it but I think I recognized him from the jazz club. He’s big. Bald. He didn’t mean to hit me, but after he did, he just ran off. Anyway, he keeps popping up, it seems, and this time, he popped me.”
Phoenix pulled back, not laughing at my attempt at a joke. “Is your face okay enough to wait a minute for ice? I want to find this asshole. Get on, grab my waist. Which way did he go?”
I pointed in the direction he ran while my brain puzzled through the rest of his directions.Get on?What does he want me to get on …? Oh!My gaze dropped to his skateboard. Jeremy mentioned his brother’s skill with skating, but somehow I didn’t expect to see him riding.
“Can two people ride on it?” I asked, genuinely baffled.
“Yes.” He nodded, gesturing impatiently. “Come on. Get on my back. Grab me piggyback. Hurry.”
All thoughts of the bagels replaced by my throbbing face and the possibility of finding my attacker, I climbed on Phoenix’s back. We took off, and my hair whipped behind us like a banner.
As I clung to him, shifting my weight with his, my eye started to water from the pain of the punch and my heart raced. There was something just bizarre about the moment, and I hoped I would remember every second, every dip in the pavement, every small jump. We weaved around people, our bodies in sync, dodging pedestrians and skirting around parked cars until I spotted him.
The man who’d hit me, who was everywhere I went.
“That’s him.” I shouted, pointing.
He noticed us as we approached, and his eyes got huge. He would have turned to run again but Phoenix skidded to a stop right in front of him, and the large man toppled in surprise. Phoenix set me down on my feet and then pressed on the man’s chest with his skateboard.
“Did you hit my friend? Have you been following her? Start talking now. You never know when I’ll have a sudden break with reality and start bashing in your head. Got it? Start talking.” He shoved the skateboard again, practically spitting into the man’s face.
The stranger held out his hands in obvious submission. “I know who you are. You’re the one who got taken. I’ve been following all of you for the last few days. I do my research.”
