Page 51 of Expressionate
Damien throws his own punch and it goes wide, not even landing as Tax leans back automatically. I shake my head. Tax obviously has more fighting experience than this man, but still. This isn’t right. I try to call out for Tax again, but he still isn’t hearing me. Tax and Damien roll on the ground, through the dirt alongside the concretepatio.
“Someone go get Sarge!” a woman in the crowd calls out. I turn to do just that, but I’m stopped when Blake comes barreling out of the back doors heading straight forme.
“Where—” he starts when he sees me, but then he cuts himself off and looks down. “Fuck! Tax!” Blake pushes through the people standing around and hauls Tax up by the back of his shirt. Tax yells and throws a punch. I gasp, but it doesn’t land. Blake leaps back before body slamming Tax to the ground and rolling him to his front, jerking his arms behind his back and sitting onthem.
“Go!” Blake snaps to Damien who gets to his feet in a flash and disappears around the side of thehouse.
“Get the fuck off me!” Taxyells.
“Calm the fuck down then, asshole!” But Blake does back off. Tax stands, panting as he glaresaround.
“What the fuck are you pissants looking at?” he snaps. Everyone looks away and then slowly, they all go back to what they were doing before thefight.
“What were you thinking?” Blake says, standingup.
Dragging a hand through his hair, Tax growls low in his throat. Even though I’m worried – and confused – the sound goes straight to my pussy. “He insultedLove.”
“So?” Blake brushes off his jeans. “You know that wasn’t cool, man. I don’t care what he said. Look – you fucking scared your girl. Go fucking take care of her. ForgetDamien.”
Tax looks at me and I jerk as his midnight eyes meetmine.
“Shit.” He heads my way. “I’m sorry, Lovely.” He wraps an arm around me, pulling me to his chest. I inhale the scent of grass and dirt on his clothes, sighing and pressing my facecloser.
“It’s okay,” I say, when what I really want to ask iswhy?But he doesn’t need me to ask why. I’m sure hundreds of people have asked him why. Why does he need to hit something? Why is that violence inside him? The worst of it is, when Blake looks at us, he doesn’t frown, he doesn’t scoff. He looks at us as Tax holds me in his arms, and I can see happiness in his eyes. Not true happiness. Not the kind of happiness that is bone deep, but the kind that comes from caring for another person. It’s the look I know is on my face when I look atTrish.
“Take care of him,” Blake whispers in passing. Tax is in the middle of saying something to me so I know he doesn’t hear. But Ido.
I interrupt Tax with a kiss. I will, I swear silently. I will take care of him. Because I believe him when he looks at me. I feel him when he touches me, and I don’t feel disgusting. I feelalive.
“What the fuck happened out here, man?!” Tax and I separate as the loud voice of Sarge booms across thebackyard.
“Fuck,” Tax whispers against mylips.
I smile and resist the urge to laugh. “Time to face the music,” I whisperback.
“You’re a bad influence,” hesays.
“Nah, not yet, I’m not.” His gaze meets mine and he grins. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to how handsome he is to me. Or how that grin reminds me of the way he was inside me lastnight.
“Yeah,” he says, kissing me again quickly, “you soare.”
Hours later, after Tax was sufficiently cuffed over the back of his head by Sarge – like an older brother scolding his younger sibling – the party has wound down and I’m heading into the kitchen, alone, as Sarge, Blake, and Tax sit around making fun of a passed out Cross, when a hand stops me. I turn and look up, stopping as my heart beat slows in mychest.
“I thought that was you.” The face hasn’t changed – it’s hard to change much in just a few too-short years – but that only makes it easier to recognize him, even if I don’t know his name. “You’re Danny’s girl, right?” He grins – leers really – as he leans down. “How much are you going fornow?”
I take a step back. “I’m sorry, I think you must have me confused for someone else.” I’m proud of the way my voice remains steady as I let the lie slip out, even when I can feel my heart trying to sludge through the quicksand in mychest.
“No. I’d recognize that face anywhere.” The guy puts a hand over my head, against the frame of the kitchen doorway. I glance up and down the hall, but there’s no one there. The party really has died out. There are only a few people gathered in the backyard and in the living room. Everywhere else is a veritable ghost town. “I always wondered how Danny got such a pretty bird in his cage.” One lone finger touches my neck before skimming down over my top to the tattooed birds fluttering across the skin of myarm.
“No,” I say again. “I—”
“You know, Danny and I are still friends. Last I heard, though, he was living closer to the coast. What are you doing so far from home, littlebird?”
“I’m not with Danny anymore,” I say, giving up on the charade. “Take your hands offme.”
“Awww, you don’t want to play with me if it’s not for Danny?” he asks. Dull brown eyes rake across my skin. I can feel slime oozing from the man’s pores. Have I had sex with him? I ask myself. I remember his face. I remember seeing him in Danny’s house, at one of the many parties Danny threw. But I don’t remember fucking him. That doesn’t mean anything, though. Half the time I was fucking Danny, I was drunk or I had my eyesclosed.
“I don’t do that anymore,” I say, “and I’m not with him.” I repeat it not just for the man in front of me, but for myself as well. It’s a reminder that Danny is my past and here, right now, Tax is mypresent.
