Zip, Zero, Zilch
Page 44
“She wants ten thousand dollars,” I tell Sam.
“For what?” he asks.
“None of your fucking business,” she snarls.
Sam thrusts me behind him. “It is my fucking business,” he says as he points a finger at her. “I am in love with her, and I’m pretty sure she feels the same way about me. So everything about her is my fucking business.”
My heart starts to pound. He said it. He finally said it. I take his hand in mine and squeeze it. He looks down at me and brushes a lock of hair behind my ear.
He turns back to her. “I’ll ask you again. What do you want the money for?”
A short pause. “Bone.” Not more than that. Just one word.
Sam freezes. “Bone.”
She nods. “I owe him some money and I need to pay him back.”
“Why should she help you?”
“Because if she doesn’t, he’s going to kill me.” Fear skitters across her face, and I know that she believes it.
“Why is this our problem?” Sam crosses his arms in front of his chest. He said our problem. Ours. Not mine. My gut clenches.
“I don’t have anyone else to go to.”
“We’ll think about it.” He rocks his head toward Henry, who is standing in the doorway with a baseball bat in his hand. He slaps it against his palm over and over. Henry is older, but I like that he’s on my team. My team rocks. “Leave your contact information with Henry. We’ll call you if we decide to help.”
He tugs my hand very gently and pulls me toward the elevator.
“You can’t just leave me hanging,” she protests.
I can’t stand it anymore. I just can’t. I rush toward her and stick my finger in her face. She freezes, maybe because of something she sees in my eyes? I don’t know. “You left me h-hanging for years. You left me alone for d-days. Months. Years. Where were y-you? You left me w-waiting. I used to sit up at night and wait for you to come home, until finally I just stopped waiting. I stopped hoping. So you don’t fucking get to fucking tell me you’re tired of waiting, bitch.”
“Okay,” she says quietly.
I fucking hate that I just stuttered in front of her. Sam tugs my hand and I walk with him to the elevator. I suddenly feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders.
I don’t let a single tear fall over my lashes until the elevator doors close.
“Come here, cupcake,” I hear Sam say softly. He pulls me against him and holds me close as I sob on his shoulder.
I pull myself together when the elevator stops on our floor. Sam leads me into the apartment and over to the sofa. He sits down and tugs me onto his lap. I curl into him and he holds me close.
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen her,” I say when the hiccupping sobs finally subside.
“I know.” He rubs my back.
“She still looks the same. But it’s wrong. So wrong.”
“I know.”
“She didn’t even come to see me. She just came for money.”
“Yes, she did.”
“She doesn’t care. She never did.” My voice breaks again, and I want to kick myself for letting her get to me like this.
“I know.”
“What should I do?”
“What do you want to do?”
“I want her to go away! I want her to have never existed. Ever. I want a do-over.”
He hums, but doesn’t say anything.
“But if I had a do-over, I wouldn’t have Emilio and Marta, or any of my sisters. And without them, I wouldn’t have you.” I look up. “I do have you, right?”
“You got me, cupcake.”
“I’m squishing you.” I move to get up, but he holds me tightly.
“I’m made of stronger stuff than you might think.”
“You told her you love me,” I say quietly.
He goes still under me. His hand stops sweeping down my hair.
“Do you?”
He turns my head with a finger under my chin so he can look into my eyes. “You doubt it?”
“Well,” I hedge, “I told you yesterday and you didn’t tell me back, so I didn’t know.”
“Oh, fuck,” he breathes. “I thought it was a given.”
“A given?”
“God, I can’t breathe when I’m around you, Peck. I can’t think. I love you, and I don’t want to be apart from you. Ever.”
“You love me.” It’s not a question this time.
The birds in my head start to sing, and my heart does this happy glug-glug thing in my chest.
“Yes, I fucking love you.”
I press my lips to his. He kisses me, softly and tenderly, until I press harder, and our teeth clack together. Then he’s right there with me. His tongue slides into my mouth, and its velvety rasp tickles alongside mine. He pushes me back a little and looks into my face, then brushes my hair back with gentle fingers. “Tell me what you want.”
“You,” I say. “Just you.”
“You got me,” he whispers against my lips.
I feel like there was dry tinder in my heart, just waiting for a flame. And suddenly, I’ve been ignited.
“It’s late,” he says. “Do you want to go to bed?”
I nod. “Yes, please.”
I can feel his smile against my cheek. “Okay.”
He lifts me off of him and I get to my feet. My legs are a little wobbly and I suddenly am so tired.
“For what?” he asks.
“None of your fucking business,” she snarls.
Sam thrusts me behind him. “It is my fucking business,” he says as he points a finger at her. “I am in love with her, and I’m pretty sure she feels the same way about me. So everything about her is my fucking business.”
My heart starts to pound. He said it. He finally said it. I take his hand in mine and squeeze it. He looks down at me and brushes a lock of hair behind my ear.
He turns back to her. “I’ll ask you again. What do you want the money for?”
A short pause. “Bone.” Not more than that. Just one word.
Sam freezes. “Bone.”
She nods. “I owe him some money and I need to pay him back.”
“Why should she help you?”
“Because if she doesn’t, he’s going to kill me.” Fear skitters across her face, and I know that she believes it.
“Why is this our problem?” Sam crosses his arms in front of his chest. He said our problem. Ours. Not mine. My gut clenches.
“I don’t have anyone else to go to.”
“We’ll think about it.” He rocks his head toward Henry, who is standing in the doorway with a baseball bat in his hand. He slaps it against his palm over and over. Henry is older, but I like that he’s on my team. My team rocks. “Leave your contact information with Henry. We’ll call you if we decide to help.”
He tugs my hand very gently and pulls me toward the elevator.
“You can’t just leave me hanging,” she protests.
I can’t stand it anymore. I just can’t. I rush toward her and stick my finger in her face. She freezes, maybe because of something she sees in my eyes? I don’t know. “You left me h-hanging for years. You left me alone for d-days. Months. Years. Where were y-you? You left me w-waiting. I used to sit up at night and wait for you to come home, until finally I just stopped waiting. I stopped hoping. So you don’t fucking get to fucking tell me you’re tired of waiting, bitch.”
“Okay,” she says quietly.
I fucking hate that I just stuttered in front of her. Sam tugs my hand and I walk with him to the elevator. I suddenly feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders.
I don’t let a single tear fall over my lashes until the elevator doors close.
“Come here, cupcake,” I hear Sam say softly. He pulls me against him and holds me close as I sob on his shoulder.
I pull myself together when the elevator stops on our floor. Sam leads me into the apartment and over to the sofa. He sits down and tugs me onto his lap. I curl into him and he holds me close.
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen her,” I say when the hiccupping sobs finally subside.
“I know.” He rubs my back.
“She still looks the same. But it’s wrong. So wrong.”
“I know.”
“She didn’t even come to see me. She just came for money.”
“Yes, she did.”
“She doesn’t care. She never did.” My voice breaks again, and I want to kick myself for letting her get to me like this.
“I know.”
“What should I do?”
“What do you want to do?”
“I want her to go away! I want her to have never existed. Ever. I want a do-over.”
He hums, but doesn’t say anything.
“But if I had a do-over, I wouldn’t have Emilio and Marta, or any of my sisters. And without them, I wouldn’t have you.” I look up. “I do have you, right?”
“You got me, cupcake.”
“I’m squishing you.” I move to get up, but he holds me tightly.
“I’m made of stronger stuff than you might think.”
“You told her you love me,” I say quietly.
He goes still under me. His hand stops sweeping down my hair.
“Do you?”
He turns my head with a finger under my chin so he can look into my eyes. “You doubt it?”
“Well,” I hedge, “I told you yesterday and you didn’t tell me back, so I didn’t know.”
“Oh, fuck,” he breathes. “I thought it was a given.”
“A given?”
“God, I can’t breathe when I’m around you, Peck. I can’t think. I love you, and I don’t want to be apart from you. Ever.”
“You love me.” It’s not a question this time.
The birds in my head start to sing, and my heart does this happy glug-glug thing in my chest.
“Yes, I fucking love you.”
I press my lips to his. He kisses me, softly and tenderly, until I press harder, and our teeth clack together. Then he’s right there with me. His tongue slides into my mouth, and its velvety rasp tickles alongside mine. He pushes me back a little and looks into my face, then brushes my hair back with gentle fingers. “Tell me what you want.”
“You,” I say. “Just you.”
“You got me,” he whispers against my lips.
I feel like there was dry tinder in my heart, just waiting for a flame. And suddenly, I’ve been ignited.
“It’s late,” he says. “Do you want to go to bed?”
I nod. “Yes, please.”
I can feel his smile against my cheek. “Okay.”
He lifts me off of him and I get to my feet. My legs are a little wobbly and I suddenly am so tired.
