Page 69 of The Saint

“I’m not even going to bother answering that.”

Dion nudged Tyler’s shoulder. “Little T? He gonna have naked pictures at his show?”

Tyler shrugged. “He told Mamma there might be some, and she told him she’ll just cover my eyes if there is.”

The guys laughed, and I bent to put my book back in my bag. And to try to relieve the sickness that was churning in my gut.

Not again.

Not another connection I couldn’t stop.

Over my head, they talked about going to the show. About wanting to see the paintings Tyler went on about, like each word wasn’t stealing a piece of my soul. It was the talk of the fucking town, and there was nothing I could do to stop them. And once again, I wondered if maybe I should have burned all the pictures to the ground and never showed them to anyone.

As promised, I worked with Tyler on his game. But every ounce of me wanted to wither up and die. I cut short the time I’d been planning on spending with him at the park, rushing him home under the guise that I had somewhere I had to be.

Even though I’d been planning on taking Jael out to dinner, when I got back to her empty apartment, when I thought of her being around Alvarez all day, thought of having Penny and Mrs. T and Tyrone and the guys all showing up at my show… I couldn’t bring myself to clean up and get ready for her the way I’d wanted to.

I climbed into her bed, curling around her pillow because it was the closest thing I had to being with her. Her scent wafted over me, and I soaked up whatever comfort I could get from it as I held back the need to throw it all away.

Sometime later, when the sky had turned dark and nothing but the light from the streetlamps lit up the room, the bed dipped behind me, rousing me from my restless sleep. Jael slipped her arms around me. Pressed a kiss to my cheek as her fingers wove between mine where they were curled around her pillow.

“It’s okay,” she whispered into the darkness, her lips brushing my ear. “I’ve got you. Everything’s going to be okay.”

18

JAEL

Over the sounds of the hip hop music piping through the speakers set up around the shop, I could hear the clanking of metal tools against car engines. It threw off the beat, making it difficult to sink into my thoughts. And it was exactly what I needed.

Alvarez’s crew was stripping the newest batch of cars that’d just arrived this morning, the whole thing set up in a small building D’Angelo had owned for years. There’d been a minor delay with the delivery. The head of his team of runners had called a few days before they were set to arrive, saying they needed to lay low. The heat around one of the cars they’d stolen was too much, and he was worried they’d lead the police straight to us if they didn’t hang back.

As it turned out, that delay was much needed. After I’d found Rolly in my bed last week, curled around my pillow and nearly unresponsive, I’d needed a few days off.

I’d seen him like that only a couple times before, back when we were kids, but it was never quite so bad. Rolly had a big heart, and sometimes his feelings overwhelmed him and he shut down. He’d always been a thinker, was always slow to hop on something if he had any doubts at all. And he felt things so deeply, in a way I’d never experienced. While I never understood it, I knew how to help pull him back out of the darkness he sometimes sank into.

We spent the last few days together, him barely talking while I did everything in my power to help him out. I fed him, coaxed him into a hot bath, lit incense and played relaxing music. I’d tried tempting him out of it by crawling into bed naked beside him, but he’d only rested his head on my stomach and wrapped his arms around me, holding me close.

I’d begun to worry he’d need help from someone other than me. But yesterday morning, when the sun had barely been a glimmer on the horizon, he seemed to become aware of me and decided to make up for lost time.

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, watching Alvarez snapping at his sister while my body ached from a day spent with Rolly in my bed. No matter how sore I was, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

There wasn’t much better in this life than seeing Gloria Alvarez getting yelled at by her brother.

She spun on her heel, leaving Hector’s side as she stomped off across the room in my direction, to the only table in the entire space that wasn’t filled with car parts or tools. There were few reasons he would yell at her, I’d learned, and seeing as she wasn’t giving me hell at the moment, it had to be the other case: her homework.

“Didn’t get your assignment done?” I questioned, poking her even though I knew I shouldn’t.

She scowled at me, spun a chair at the other side of the table, and sat down with her back to me. Then she cast her gaze over her shoulder and spit out, “My brother’s an asshole.” She turned back to face the Civic that was being deconstructed before our eyes. “Almost as big of one as you.”

A chuckle rumbled through my chest. I pushed out of my chair, rounding the table and grabbing the seat next to her. I spun the chair, then straddled it, leaning my arms on the backrest.

“He’s an asshole because he wants you to do good in school?”

She rolled her eyes, the act making her look even younger than she was. “I notice you didn’t contest that you’re an asshole.”

“I’m not here to be your friend—”

“Thank God for that.”