“Used to?” I ask, her words confusing me all over again. “I thought they were still messing around.”
“Nope. Lee said that after she pulled that last stunt with you and your car, Ryder cut her off.”
I raise a skeptical brow, not sure what to make of anything. Just five minutes ago, I was sure he’d said something to Hailey. Now I don’t know what to think. The only thing I do know is that Ryder’s receiving an unexpected knock on his door when I leave here.
“So, listen,” Madeline continues, shifting in her chair, “I’ve been meaning to apologize to you. I was seriously a bitch the day I told you about Brock and the guys. I came off like a judgmental hypocrite, and that’s not me at all.” She shrugs, hesitation swirling in her eyes. “My feelings toward Brock are . . . complicated.”
“You two don’t have some kind of history together, do you?” I ask, praying to God they don’t.
She giggles. “No, not at all.”
I puff out a sigh of relief. I couldn’t handle another blow today.
“I don’t know . . . Brock’s not totally a bad guy, and he’s been through his share of shit, but I hate what he did to Lee.”
“What did he do to Lee?” I ask, completely lost.
“He recruited him into this lifestyle,” she says as though the answer should be obvious. “Brock has a keen sense of knowing who he can and can’t manipulate.”
I scoff. “Manipulated into it by Brock or not, Lee made his own choice. We all have to make choices. Sometimes those choices take us down the right road, and it’s sunny and bright and filled with sparkles and crap. Other times, our choices sink us down a hole filled with nothing but shit, pain, and regret. Either way, choices are one of the many ways reality pukes its insanity in our faces.”
I sigh, hoping the girl understands what I’m getting at. I’ve made choices I wish I could take back. We all have. But time is humanity’s greatest threat, our maturing minds unable to grasp that she’s the bitch calling the shots. “You seem pretty cool,” I continue, my tone less harsh, my features softening, “but if you want to get along with me at all, you can’t blame the universe—or Brock—for things Lee chose to participate in on his own. It’s called free will. I don’t like people who seek pity for bad decisions they’ve made on their own. It’s also called life. Please deal with both if you want to be friends with me.”
“Wow, Amber,” she says after a moment, her eyes saucers. “That was . . . I don’t know. Kind of inspirational, depressing, conceited, and a little . . . scary.”
“Scary?” I laugh.
She smiles. “Not really scary, but definitely the other three.”
“What can I say? I’m . . . multidimensional, one of my many split personalities jumping into every conversation I partake in.” I take a sip of my now lukewarm Frappuccino. I’m in desperate need of a friend—God knows I am—but I’m not about to give up everything I believe in. I’ve done that more times than I can count. “I’m being honest with you, Madeline. I might seem a little cuckoo—hell, I kind of am—but what you’re staring at is what you’ll always get from me. That’s nothing but the truth.”
She folds her hands beneath her chin and studies me. “I’m not sure what to say.”
“Say you’ll be a friend who can deal with my forwardness and who doesn’t think her boyfriend’s better than mine just because he’s not running the show.” I shrug, a grin rounding my face. “Both of our boys are equally as bad because they sell it.”
“So you agree that what they’re doing isn’t cool?”
“Of course I do. There’s not a day that passes when Brock goes to pick up that I don’t worry about him.”
I’ve lost sleep fearing that something fucked up is gonna happen to him. That one night, he’s just not going to come back. I’ve never experienced this over a man. My entire existence has revolved around keeping myself guarded.
Regardless of me trying to push love as far away as possible from the cage surrounding my heart, these untapped emotions, whether it’s the beginning of falling in love or not, aren’t going away. They’re changing the color of my blood, adding texture to the palette of my world. Relentlessly destroying everything I’ve ever known myself to be—to everything I’ve ever thought I was capable of being to someone else—they’re both scaring and making me giddy all at once.
“But it is what it is,” I continue, attempting to crush down my fears. “I’m not trying to make light of it, but there are worse things they could be doing.” My statement jars me. Am I trying to make Brock seem better for not being a murderer, rapist, or human trafficker? I set my coffee down, attempting to pick her brain. “Either way, they all have their reasons for doing it. What’s Lee’s reason?”
She stares at me a second. “We started dating our junior year of high school and have always talked about moving to Europe after graduation. We’ve priced the whole trip, and that shit’s not cheap.” She shakes her head, a wistful smile pulling at her lips. “I don’t know. I mean, I do okay working here for my dad, and if I asked him for it, he’d definitely help me out, but I want that move to be something me and Lee take care of. Lee makes decent money bartending at Ram’s Head, but it’ll take ten times longer if he doesn’t supplement it with something else.” She whips her head toward her father, her voice lowering to a whisper. “But what’s really a legitimate reason to sell drugs?”