The Lovely Reckless(81)
She slips through the door and we’re alone again.
“I left your number.” Marco drops down into the seat next to me and takes my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine. He stares straight ahead. “Cyclops can’t die.”
“He won’t.”
He nods, and his gaze falls on our hands. “I miss you.”
My heart aches. “Me too. But that doesn’t change anything.”
“It should.”
“We’ve been through this. I’m the daughter—”
“Of a cop, and I’m a car thief,” he says softly. “But if I wasn’t?” Marco watches me. He’s playing what if, and I already know how the game ends.
“Are you saying you stopped stealing cars?” I already know the answer.
He frowns and bites his cracked lip.
“You have to stop acting crazy and take care of yourself.” I can’t stand the thought of what else he might be doing—and if any of it involves other girls. “Sofia needs you.”
I need you—that’s what I want to say.
“I know.” Marco’s hand tightens around mine. He closes his eyes. “But when I’m racing or fighting, it’s the only time I don’t…” He pulls our hands against his chest, and his heart beats against my fingers. “Hurt.”
“Marco—” My voice shakes along with the rest of my body. I’m not strong enough to protect us both. I pull away from him and rock forward, holding myself together.
“I understand why you left, Frankie. You deserve someone who can pick you up at your house for a real date. Not a guy your dad is trying to lock up.” Marco gathers me in his arms and kisses the top of my head. “I wouldn’t want my little sister to date a guy like me. I wish I’d met you earlier—before I made all the wrong choices. I love you.” He’s out of his chair and through the door before I have a chance to say a word.
CHAPTER 37
COLLATERAL DAMAGE
My cell rings right after first period the next morning. “Hello?
“I’m calling from the Meadowbrook Downs Veterinary Hospital for Frankie Devereux,” the woman says.
Knots tangle in my stomach. “This is Frankie. Is Cyclops all right?”
Say yes. Please say yes.
“He isn’t doing well. He developed a staph infection after surgery. You might want to come see him tonight.” Because he’s dying.
“Is it okay if I come late tonight?”
“We’re open twenty-four hours. You can visit your cat whenever you want.”
My cat.
I end the call without saying good-bye. After the milk crate and the boxing gloves, the one-eyed cat is still going to die. I can’t save him—just like I couldn’t save Noah from getting beaten to death in a parking lot. I can’t save Marco and Sofia from losing each other. Or Cruz from her father or Abel from gambling or Lex from her fears.
I can’t even save myself.
*
Things can’t get any worse. It’s a stupid expression.
Things can always get worse. And in my experience, they usually do. So when I get a 911 text from Lex at the end of Shop, I’m not surprised.
“What’s the deal?” Cruz asks, reading over my shoulder.
“I don’t know.”
The bell rings and I head for the hall to speed-dial Lex.
She picks up on the first ring. “You have to get over to Abel’s house now.” I hear knocking in the background. “Open the door, Abel!”
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I came to talk to him this morning, and he wouldn’t answer the door. I knew he was home because I saw him in the window. His mom is out of town, but I still have a key from this summer, so I let myself in. He’s locked in his room, and there’s all this banging.”
“What kind of banging?”
“How am I supposed to know if I can’t get in there?” She’s borderline hysterical. “Can you just take a cab and get over here?”
“Okay. I’ll be there soon.”
I hang up and Cruz holds out her hand. “Well, what’s the deal?”
“Something is wrong with Abel, and I have to get to his house.”
“Ava can drive us.” Cruz pulls out her cell and starts texting. “You already tempted fate once.”
“There’s no time.” I hold out my hand and Cruz gives me the keys.
It takes us fifteen minutes to get to Abel’s house.
Lex meets us at the door and she gives me a strange look when she sees Cruz. “He’s still upstairs. Come on.”
The second-floor hallway usually looks like a gigantic issue of Rolling Stone magazine—complete with framed gold records and photographs of Abel’s dad with other rock legends. Today there is nothing on the walls except nails.
“Do you think we need to take the door off the hinges?” I ask.
Cruz bends down in front of the door. “Or we can use a credit card, but I can’t do it with one hand.”
Lex hands me her platinum card.
“Now what?” I ask Cruz.
“Run the card down between the door and the jamb. When you feel the card hit something solid, jiggle the knob until you can slide the card in front of it. Then open the door.”