Page 27 of House of Bass

He doesn’t laugh and then he gives me that look, one I’ve only ever seen him use on other people, “What about the boyfriend? I do not like people knocking down my door telling me how to run my shit.”

“What fucking boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend.” It takes a long second for it to click…Arden?

“Arden was here? What did he say?” I ask, extremely confused.

He hangs his head back, like he’s praying for someone to save him. The level of familiarity between us should be unusual but the truth is, he saved my life once. Last year, I had been in one of his clubs alone sometime in early August. Coincidentally, it had been his birthday. It was invite-only but I managed to charm my way inside. I had been feeling a resurgence of my depression, sadness and despair stained my skin that day. It was a common occurrence for me, to go somewhere and forget.

So, I got coke from some guy inside and paired it with alcohol. One minute I was fine, and the next time I blinked my eyes open the same guy was being pulled off me by Luke. I don’t know what happened to him but Ambrose and Jameson were there too and dragged him away. Afterwards, Lucas let me stay in his office in the cellar while whatever my drinks had been laced with wore off. A lot of that day was a haze, which is what he meant by ‘the last time’.

He stayed with me the whole night, letting his birthday go by, “You’re a lot of trouble, aren’t you?”

A weak laugh escaped my lips, “Maybe.”

Other than that, I tried not to think too deeply about that day, just another thing to bury within myself and pretend didn’t happen. For the rest of that summer, I came by uninvited a lot and I talked his ear off about too much, and he let me. As long as I promised not to do any more drugs, especially none that came from him. He was practically my sober coach, sometimes I thought it was a touch hilarious that the one person who somewhat knew me best was the prolific drug baron.

I avoided him like the plague after that summer, perhaps it was from the overwhelming shame that eventually set in but I hadn’t spoken to him until now. Not sure if I would even call us friends.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I say. He just stares, and I can tell on his face he is weighing the cost of whether or not to reveal what happened between him and Arden. He knows about that too.

Luke takes a baggie from his leather jacket and hands it over, “This is the last time, Bass. I mean it.

“I don’t want to see you around here anymore either, I’ll be telling all my guys to keep an eye out.” He’s angry. That he had invested time in a life that I don’t even care about.

I give him my best apologetic look, puppy dog eyes that work wonders on every living soul, “I’m sorry, Luke. It’s the last time,” I repeat. “Please, don’t be cross with me.”

He rubs a hand across his mouth to hide a smile, and I know I had him.“Just get out of here.”

Then he shrugs off the leather jacket he’s wearing, revealing bulging muscles beneath his short sleeved shirt, before putting it around me. “And stop walking around in outfits like that.”

A grateful grin touches my lips, “Thanks.”

I start to walk away when the sound of car engines roaring behind me catches my attention, a race has just ended and exiting the car is Posy. All smiles, more than I have ever seen on her, high fiving the people around her. She looks comfortable, a stark difference to the girl that I know.

She’s talking to Bloss, a friend of their cousin, when her eyes catch mine and her brows furrow. I have barely moved away from her brother, so she looks back and forth between us a couple times. A realisation dawns on her and she looks angry, but I don’t plan to find out why. I hightail it out of there immediately. Getting in between Carney family drama? Never ends well.

12

HARLEY

Her room was unbearably warm but she didn’t want to leave it in case she bumped into Annabel. That day plagued her like a constant movie in her head, playing on a loop in terrible flashbacks like she was reliving the moment. The way Harley had yelled at Annabel was not something she would have imagined herself doing, especially in front of all those people. She was usually in much more control of herself and this was all that boy’s fault for pricking at a part of her she was determined to shelve away before she came here. Harley was getting severely overwhelmed from the realities of leaving her home and her mother.

She had packed her bags so many times over the last couple days, wondering if any of this was worth it. She would never fit in here, with these people. A sigh from the depth of her lungs left her as she rubbed her face up and down in resignation. Sprawled on the floor of her very large room, Harley felt much more comfortable down there than she did on her bed. It was too big. She had only been here about a week and the difference in wealth still shocked her every time she walked in her room; there was a stand-in closest, a full length mirror glued to the wall, the floor to ceiling windows that gave her a nice view, and if she could find the words to describe the bathroom or even the idea of having a bathroom of her own, she’d be here all day.

Harley couldn’t help but feel like she had stolen someone else’s life, and the irrational guilt that came with it was blinding. Her mother would have loved it here, especially how big the TV in the sitting room was, so she could watch reruns of Corrie and Eastenders .

During the brief moments when she came up for air from the drinking and drugs, and was present in her life, her mother was fun to be around. She taught her to braid her hair, sometimes they cooked together and watched TV together. It was small, but it was enough, even if the moments lasted about a week or two until she picked up her habits again. Then that was the end. A cycle she went through several times a year, so she stopped expecting anything out of it.

Don’t get her wrong she had cherished the mother she got in those moments, the memories, although few and far in between were the most important thing to her. She had grown up alone and it was what she was used to, so having a sister who wanted more from her than she could give was difficult.

The worst thing about all of this was that Harley hadn’t even met the reason she even came here, the man who was meant to be her father. But Harley remembers the first time she ever saw him… well, them.

✧✧✧

Six years ago

For as long as she could remember, she’d been pestering her mother for years about the identity of her father. Her mother’s anger was sudden just at the mere mention of him; a slap to the face that Harley could tell she regretted immediately but no apology came of it. It’s not like it was the first time.

Harley spent months researching; for her birth certificate that she’d never seen before or someone who knew anything at all. Her resources were limited because they didn’t have a laptop at home and there were only so many places willing to be questioned by a fourteen year old girl. But she finally got a name: William Bass. She couldn’t believe it, it had to be wrong because she knew that name. Everyone knew that name; you’d have to be living under a rock not to.