“Ya think?” he asked sarcastically.
I decided to move us beyond that. “But you could have handled Lonnie differently, or you know, maybe let me handle him.”
And, say, let me open the lock of my own front door.
“You weren’t handling it.”
“I’ve known Lonnie longer than you.”
“And in that time you haven’t been handling it.”
Shit.
Yet another valid point.
“Tony—”
I got no further.
He demanded to know, “Do you get what’s happening here?”
I was beginning to.
I just didn’t get where I was with all of that.
That wasn’t true.
What was true was that I didn’t want to go to the place that was smart and sensible and responsible, which would take me away from the place where Tony held my hand, handed me a beer, stating without words he didn’t trust the assholes we were with not to date rape drug me and that was not gonna happen on his watch, and he touched my cheek in that sweet way of his.
I also didn’t want to be in a place without Lonnie and Maria and the history we had, the memories we shared, bringing an end to good times, lots of laughs, the freedom to be crazy and stupid because we were young and that was the only time you could do that.
But I had to go to that place. The time was now to make that decision. And that time was now because if it wasn’t made now . . .
“That can’t happen,” I told him quietly.
He shook his head once. “It’s already happened, Cady.”
I shook my head too, more than once. “I . . . this is me saying now, after what happened tonight, that I’m seeing the way things are and it can’t happen.”
“Something like this starts, you can’t stop it,” he told me.
That was exactly what it felt like.
He was like . . . like . . . a magnet and I was metal and all the laws of nature said there was nothing for it. But it wasn’t like I was drawn to him. It was like I was connected to him and nothing could shake me loose unless all my molecules were jumbled up and I became a different me.
But this was where I had to pull my shit together.
This was where I had to decide I was going to be manager at the Sip and Save and who cared what my parents or anyone thought of that, it was good work, honest, and I could do it, and do it well and lay my head down on any pillow at night and know that.
And I was going to find an apartment in a nice part of town, it could still be a studio, but I wasn’t going to slum it anymore, and even if I had to take babysitting jobs or whatever to make the extra I’d need, I was going to do it.
And when I made manager and I made okay money, I was going to start taking classes at a community college in management and marketing and shit like that.
I had no idea where that was going to take me. I just knew that was where I should go.
And I was going to do all of this because I was going to be someone I liked, someone worthwhile. I was going to make my way on the right path no matter how hard it was.
I was not in the right place. I was not around good people. It sucked to admit, but Mom had always been right. It wasn’t so simple as to say they weren’t good people, but Lonnie and Maria didn’t make good choices and I had to separate myself from that.
And all that came with it.
Which meant separate myself from a man who saved me from being raped, silently listened as I poured all my shit out then he helped me deal with it, found me a place to live, moved me, bought me pizza, beer, held my hand and could make it seem like the world turned on his crooked smile.
“You scare me,” I whispered.
The air in the room went heavy as his cheeks flushed and his eyes burned and he stood still and silent.
But I could actually feel the inner battle he was waging.
I just didn’t know what the fight was about.
“People . . . they don’t . . . people don’t do that, Tony,” I explained hesitantly. “They don’t nearly twist a man’s arm out of his shoulder for touching a girl they like. I can’t . . . they all . . .” I shook my head. “All of them, even you, the people with Lars, they scare me. It’s not right. They’re not right. And I just . . . I . . . I just can’t.”
“Stick with me.”
His words were so low, I almost didn’t hear them.
But I heard them.
“Please don’t ask me that,” I whispered.
“Stick with me.”
“Tony.”
“Stick with me. Believe in me, Cady. Even if you don’t know what I’m asking, I’m still gonna ask it. Don’t give up no matter what.”
He was asking something huge. Something I didn’t understand but I knew it was too much. Too much to ask of me, Cady Webster, as the girl I was. Hell, maybe too much to ask of anybody.
“There’s nothing to give up on. There’s nothing at all,” I told him, maybe trying to make myself believe my own words.
“There’s something,” he returned.
“Pizza and beer, that’s all we had. And I’ll make you a pie, Tony. Five of them. Payback. You don’t get without giving. And then I’ll find a place and I’ll clean this one before I leave, and I’ll ask my mom and dad to help me move out and you and me are square and we’re done, and that’s where I need to be. That’s what’s safe for me. That’s what’s right.”
I realized I was breathing heavily watching him do the same, his eyes never leaving mine, the battle within him still warring on and it seemed he had to force it out when he repeated, “It’s not pizza and beer. You know what it is. And no matter what, don’t give up on it.”
I didn’t understand even though I totally did.
But I held on to the not understanding part so I wouldn’t give in and race right over the start line of the very wrong path in the hopes of catching up with Tony.
“Right now, there’s nothing to give up, Tony. We shouldn’t make it so there is.”
I was just able to get that out before he wasn’t four feet away, he was right in front of me, his hands on either side of my face, his face bent to mine.
“You get it already, you just don’t understand what you get,” he whispered.
He made no sense at all and I understood him exactly.
I shook my head in his hands. “Please don’t do this.”
“You get it. You look at me and you get it. Believe in that, Cady. Believe in what you see. Believe in me.”
“Stop it.” My voice was now trembling as was my body. “There’s nothing to get. There’s nothing to believe.”
“There’s something.”
I wrapped my fingers around his wrists and put pressure on to pull them away, but his hands didn’t move.
“You’ve been so nice, so sweet, so cool about everything, but you told me yourself I need to stay on the right—”
“Look in my eyes and tell me you don’t believe.”
I looked in his beautiful eyes, right there, so close, the breath of his words rushing across my lips. And looking into those eyes I remembered thinking about giving our kids those eyes the first night I met him, and the trembling increased.
“You’re scaring me,” I whispered.
“You’ll never be safer with anyone than you are with me.”
I could oh so totally, easily fall into believing in him.
But that was hard to believe.
“But, Tony,” I gave his wrists a shake and they didn’t budge an inch, “you scare me.”
That was when, from inches away, I watched the shutters fly up on his eyes, brilliant, bright light beamed out, blinding me so bad, I blinked.
Then his mouth was on mine.
I was going to be manager at the store.
I was going to take classes at a community college.
I was going to be somebody.
I tried to pull away but his fingers slid back to curl into my scalp and his mouth opened over mine, his tongue touching my lips.
What happened next, maybe it was reflex.
Maybe it was instinct.
Maybe it was recklessness overwhelming me again, telling me I had this one chance, this one shot at this one beautiful adventure and I should take it.