A Whole New Crowd

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The next day, Tray told me one of Jace’s men had driven me home, and he came out to carry me inside. I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t do anything. I just sat and stared straight ahead, like an empty vessel. He told me that Austin had been scared. When I heard that, a pang of regret went through me. Austin didn’t deserve that. His sister was away. His parents were gone, and now I was acting like a walking corpse. No, that wasn’t true. A walking corpse didn’t feel. I was feeling too much; I couldn’t handle it. I felt like someone thrust a large butcher knife into the middle of my chest, leaving a gaping hole. It was becoming infected, and I was rotting from the inside.
Tray asked if he should call Shelly and Kevin. I asked him why. He jerked his head in a nod, then climbed into bed behind me and wrapped his arms around me.
The week passed like that. I didn’t go to school for the first half of the week. Tray took the counselor’s note to excuse Mandy’s absence, and he explained what happened with me. I was allowed three days to miss and when I went back Thursday, I shouldn’t have been there. I went from class to class. No one talked to me. Everyone watched me. They had all heard about Brian’s death; they just didn’t know I had caused it. Tray helped me. He remained by my side. He had people take notes for me. When he couldn’t be there, he had people carry my books for me.
He told me a few days later that Mandy had called. She wanted to know how I was doing. For some reason, I began laughing at that. She was in rehab, trying to comfort me. Brian had never cared when he was getting help. It had been all about him. She was in his old place, and she was reaching out because of him. Somehow, that was ironic to me, and I couldn’t stop laughing. Austin was in the living room at the time. When he saw the tears rolling down my face and heard the hysterical note in my voice, he threw his video game controller and ran upstairs.
I couldn’t blame him.
Tray frowned and said into the phone, “Maybe in a few days.” He paused, listening to her on the other end and then replied, “Just keep getting better. That helps her.”
I wiped a tear from my face, but couldn’t stop laughing. I sighed. “I’m a mess.”
He didn’t respond. He slid an arm under my leg and the other behind my back, lifting me so I was on his lap, tugging my head so I was leaning into him. My shoulders were shaking as more laughter poured out of me. The laughter soon faded and then there were only tears. When the irony left me, it was replaced with a deeper sadness. The void inside me doubled.
Each night when Tray took me to bed, I laid there, closed my eyes, and willed myself to sleep. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t, but when morning came, I got up. I showered. I dressed. I ate. I went to school. I went through the motions. My birthday came and went. I didn’t remember until it was the day after. A sad laugh formed, but died before it slipped out. I was eighteen now. I didn’t even need to be adopted anymore.
I never told anyone. I didn’t want to deal with any more pity, from anyone.
It was the next week when I found out that Jace had held a small funeral for Brian. I hadn’t been invited. I couldn’t even process that, but I knew it would hurt me later. All I could process was that I wanted to make Jace pay, even more than he was now. This was his fault. No, it was mine too.
I closed my eyes and felt another wave of grief roll through me. It was both of our faults.
“How’d your friend die?”
Austin asked the question from across the table. It was Saturday morning and everyone had slept in, so we were having a late breakfast.
Tray looked to me, waiting to see if I would answer.
A lump was in my throat, hell—it was always there now. I spoke around it, “He was shot.”
“Oh.” He glanced down at his plate and moved his eggs around with his fork. Then his hands gripped the fork tighter and he looked back up. “Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why was he shot? Mandy said you had dated a psycho.”
I frowned. “When did she say that?”
“Before.” He lifted a shoulder and looked to Tray for a moment. “It was before you moved in. She heard Mom and Dad talking one night. She said that we were asked to take you in because the guy you were dating was dangerous. If that’s true, why aren’t you happy? I mean, isn’t this a good thing he’s dead?”
I couldn’t form a sentence. The pieces started to fit together even more now. Jace told Shelly and Kevin about me. He used the excuse that Brian was dangerous. They had been lied to as well. A new wave of hatred spewed through me. It was like poison, affecting every pore inside of me, turning it so all I could think about was Jace. This was his fault. It wasn’t mine. Brian’s death was on him.
“Taryn?”
I didn’t know who said that. The need to find Jace, the need to hurt him, was overwhelming.
“Austin, why don’t you get ready? I’ll call Eric’s mom and have her pick you up.”
A chair was shoved back. They were moving away, then I heard Austin’s faint voice, “Yeah…is she going to be okay…” Then I couldn’t hear anymore. They had both left the room.
I had loved Jace. He and Brian had been the only constants in my life. I would move away, then come back, and they would still be there. That cycle was repeated every time I was sent to another foster home. Somehow, I always ended up going back to Pedlam. I would sneak out to see Brian. He was my first love, but Jace was family too. Now they were both gone and I felt stripped open. I felt like I was bleeding everywhere and I couldn’t stop.
A door shut in the distance, and I heard Tray coming back to me. He didn’t say anything. I tensed up; I didn’t know if I wanted to hear any more condolences. I gritted my teeth. With every, “I’m sorry,” I wanted to hit someone. My hand curled in a ball. I was going to swing if I heard sympathy from him. Without saying a word, he knelt and scooped me up from the chair. He tossed me over his shoulder, and I waited to see where he would take me.
He carried me outside and into a gym. As he set me down, I looked around. A punching bag was in one corner with a boxing ring in the other. Against one wall was a sheet taped up with a silhouette of a person in the middle. Little holes were punched through it along with rips. As Tray went to grab a knife from the wall, I knew it was used as a throwing target for him. He came over and opened his palm. A knife was in his palm, the handle towards me.
“What is this?”
I knew how to climb, how to break locks, how to sneak into buildings, but I had never been taught how to throw a knife.
Tray kept his hand steady. He was looking right into my eyes, no hesitation, no judgment, nothing. I flashed back to the last night I had seen Brian, when Tray had looked at me in the same manner. He was there, right in front of me, and he wasn’t going anywhere. I had felt as if I had been punched in the chest that night, and the feeling came back again. In one look, as he stood before me, I felt him under my skin. He forced the black hole to move aside and an alarming emotion bumped my heart into beating faster.
My mouth went dry. I was scared of Tray. He didn’t treat me as anything except his equal. Brian had worshiped me. Jace had taken care of me, but Tray was different. The strength in him was more than I ever imagined. He lifted his hand again. “Take it, Taryn.”
“Why?”
“Because I know you. You’re a fighter and once you’ve mourned Brian enough, you’re going to want to go after Lanser.” He stepped closer. His hand was still lifted. The knife was beckoning to me, but I was distracted as Tray’s body was so close. He had held me every night, but those were nights of comfort. This was different. He changed the dynamic between us. He lifted the tension between us and raised it another notch until I couldn’t ignore how much I wanted him. I swallowed, needing more air. His voice dropped to a whisper, “You won’t win against Jace Lanser. He’s a deadly weapon in himself, but I can teach you how to defend yourself. I can teach you how to hurt whoever you’re fighting.”
“You want me to go after Jace?”
“No.” His hand closed around the knife, and he pulled it away. “You’ll lose, but if you’re cornered and alone, I want you to have a fighting chance.” His hand lifted again. The knife was uncovered once more. “Take it, Taryn. I’ll teach you how to use it.”
I did. As my hand closed around it, knowing that I would learn how to yield it, I felt powerful. No, I always felt powerful. It was just coming back to me. “How do you know this?”
“My dad taught me. It was one thing he did right by me before he left.” He moved so he was behind me. One hand took my arm and the other splayed out on my hip. My heart was racing, but I tried to push all of that away and listen to him. He lifted my arm and moved my other hip back. He murmured into my ear, “If you’re fighting someone, you won’t have time to grab a weapon. If you’re lucky, you will see them coming, but most times they’ll get the drop on you.”
I frowned. “That’s not helpful.”
He chuckled, his breath caressing over my ear and the side of my face. It warmed me and sent shivers through me at the same time. His hand tightened on my hip. “When you’re fighting for your life and this is all you have, you don’t hesitate.” He jerked my hand out in a straight jab. At the same time, he pushed my hip forward so my whole body went with the motion. “If you fight someone bigger than you, don’t hold back. Don’t stab and keep half your body away. It won’t do anything. You’ll just graze the guy. If you go in, go all in and push all of your weight behind your knife.”
Jace and Brian had been in fights, against each other and against others. The violent world wasn’t new to me, but the idea that it was me and one other person in a back alley had my mind spinning. Jace never taught me these things. Neither had Brian
He stepped back from me and I missed his warmth, but he took my shoulders and turned me around. As he did, his hazel eyes had a grave look in them. He dropped his chin so he was staring right into my eyes. He said, “If you have the opportunity, go for the throat. If it’s you or him and its life and death, you can’t hesitate. If you can, jab the entire knife into the guy. Go in through the side, but if he’s holding you at an angle and you can’t get a good rush at him, slit his throat. Right in front.” He ran his finger across the front of his throat. “Fighting with a knife is about being smart. If you’re given a window, do it. Don’t hesitate. Use your whole body. You might have a couple seconds, if even that. He’s bigger than you. If he’s going against you, he won’t hesitate. You can’t either. It’s you or him, you fight with every last inch in you and when you don’t think you can fight anymore, you search for more inside of you. You need to be a wild animal. Do not hold back. I mean it, Taryn. You can’t hold back. Fear will paralyze you. It’ll be hard enough to fight just through that, but you have to. Okay?”
He waited for me to nod. When I did, he lifted my hand, the one with the knife, and pressed the blade against his neck. He said, “Press it into me.”
“No.”
I tried to pull back, but Tray caught my hand. “You need to feel what it’s like to have a knife to a throat. This is where they’re vulnerable.”
I nodded. His hand fell from mine and I kept the knife there. He stared at me, and I felt his trust in me, but his eyes were blazing. He was fighting for me. “I want to kill Jace.”
“I know you do.”
I had loved him. Now I hated him.
His hands framed both sides of my face. Bending over, he rested his forehead to mine and stared right into me. “I can’t promise you will get the chance. He leads the Panthers. He works for Sal Galverson, and he’s one of the best fighters I have ever heard about.”
“I can hurt him in other ways.” My mind was connecting the dots. He wanted me out of the way. He had connections to my adopted parents. I was his secret. “He didn’t want Galverson to know about me. Why? That makes no sense.”
Tray stepped away. “What are you talking about?”
“He said Brian hated him. He said Brian wasn’t a threat, but I could’ve been. What did he mean by that?”
“In that world, there’s no guarantee. People can turn on you in a flash.”
“Yeah.” I lifted my chin up. “I could get Galverson to turn on Jace.”
“No, no. That’s not a good idea.”
“But what if—”
Tray caught my arms and pulled me back in front of him. “No, Taryn. That world is dangerous. I had my own brush with it, remember? I’ll never see my dad again. You can’t do anything. I’m teaching you this stuff on the off chance that you do find yourself in an alley against someone.”
I snorted. “I’m a thief. I can usually find my way out of a situation.”
“Yeah.” He tapped my forehead. “You’ve always used this, but it’s personal now. You’re all heart now. You’re not going into anything clear-headed, not until you really grieve Brian Lanser fully.” His voice grew soft. “And I’ll be honest, I don’t think you ever will. When you love, you love hard. I know that about you. I also know you’re not going to let him go because you blame yourself.”
I reared back as if he had slapped me. “I blame Jace.”
“Yeah, but you blame yourself too. I can feel it in you. You barely eat. You’re a walking zombie. The girl who was so full of life and fight before is a shell now. You’re empty, but I know everything will slam back and you’ll go crazy. The need to hurt Jace will be too much and you’ll do something that could hurt you,” he pulled me close again, “really hurt you. That’s why I’m showing you this.”
“So what do you want me to do?” My hand wrapped around the knife. I felt the razor’s edge against my skin, pressing into it. I was fighting myself. I wanted to hurt myself, but I wanted to hurt someone else more. With a concerted effort, I relaxed my hand. I let the knife slip down, and I caught the handle of it. Then I looked at it. It was a small weapon, but it could be so deadly at the same time.
“Nothing.”
I flashed him a grin. “Brian died because of him.”
He let out a sigh.
“There’s a snowball’s chance in hell that I won’t do anything.”
“Taryn.”
I pointed the knife at him. “Jace wanted me gone. His boss is in town.” I remembered another fact. “There was a ton of security at the Pedlam High School. I’m going to figure out why. Something’s going on. I want to know what and then I’ll figure out some way to turn Galverson against Jace. He’s going to die, whether at my hands or not.”
As I left the gym, my shoulders were straight. My walk was steady. There was a calm that settled over me. It replaced the turmoil inside me and I felt good. I had a mission. I owed Brian. I was going to make his death stand for something, even if I died trying. So be it.
I kept the knife.