Glancing at Cheyenne, I wink at her. She huffs and Colt starts laughing.

The brunette walks to the trunk of her car and starts to pull out a box. “Hold that thought. I’m about to go be a gentleman and help the lady out. We’ll argue later tonight.” I wink at her again. “If I’m not busy.”

Colt shakes his head and Cheyenne looks like she wants to punch me, but I’m already walking away. Looking at this girl—hell, any girl—I see a distraction. When I’m concentrating on a girl’s body, there’s not much room for the stuff from my past creeping in, like the way Ash used to try and sneak up on me. I’d pretend to jump and he’d laugh and laugh before covering his face and sitting on the couch, thinking I couldn’t see him.

She’s still fumbling with the box when I get to her. There are a few more of them in her trunk. “That looks like a lot of work. It’d go much quicker if you let me help you and then we’ll go somewhere and celebrate a job well done together.”

She jumps, obviously startled, and hits her head on the trunk. “Ouch!”

Shit. That wasn’t part of the plan.

“You okay? I’d offer to kiss it and make it better, but I’m guessing it’s too soon for that.”

She takes a step back, her cheeks this sweet pink that I’m not used to seeing so much on girls anymore. I hold my hands up and smile at her. “Don’t be scared. Other than my shitty lines, I’m not so bad.” Pointing to Colt and Cheyenne, I continue. “My friend’s girl is over there. She’ll tell you I’m nothing but a huggable teddy bear.” I almost throw in a “Wanna cuddle?” but I think it’s too much.

She smiles and I know I just got a point back after making her hit her head. Maybe two.

“Well, then, I think we’re going to have a problem.” Her voice is as sweet as her blush. Her eyes dart around a little and her fists clench, telling me she’s trying to sound a lot braver than she feels.

“And what’s that?” I ask her before taking a step back. Not a big one, but enough to give her a little more comfort.

“I’ve always had a thing against teddy bears.”

Her answer comes out of nowhere, but I have to admit it’s kind of fun. It’s been a while since a girl made me give any kind of chase. “How do you have a thing against teddy bears?”

“Because they’re frauds. I used to have one and thought it would protect me when I slept, but it didn’t. I think that’s their plan. They lure you in with a false sense of security.”

I hold in my laugh. She’s good. Really good. She managed to insult me and shoot down my game in one swoop. It makes me want her more. Want some kind of challenge. Maybe that’s what I need to take my mind off all the things that I don’t deserve to forget. “Now that wasn’t very nice. We don’t even know each other’s names, but here you are calling me a fraud. All I wanted was to be a gentleman and help you with these boxes and then welcome you to the neighborhood by inviting you to a party tonight.”

I lean against her car, watching her. Wanting to see what’s going on in her gray eyes. She’s thinking about what I said, trying to come up with a reply.

“I can’t,” she finally says. She seems a little sad when she says it. She looks at the ground and bites her bottom lip. I really want to tell her I’ll do that for her, but I don’t. She’s gorgeous as hell. Even more so up close than she was from farther away. Plump lips. A little mole under her nose and damned if she doesn’t look both sexy and innocent at the same time.

“You won’t.”

She sighs. “I don’t even know you. Even if I did, that’s not what I’m here for.”

Her response is a little strange. I’m about to ask her about it when a motorcycle rumbles up next to us. The girl’s eyes shoot over to the bike, and fuck if I don’t know this is some guy for her. I look over and he’s pulling off his helmet and looking at me like he wants to take a shot at me because he knows exactly what’s going through my head.

“Maddox, you’re late.” She looks at him and I look at her. She could have saved me a whole lot of trouble by telling me she was taken from the beginning.

“Who’s this?” he says.

“My bad,” I reply. “Have fun with those boxes.”

I’m not in the mood to fight for some girl I don’t know, so I turn and start to walk away. Not like I won’t have more to choose from tonight anyway.

* * *

Sometimes you can’t stop the past from seeping into the present. It’s like an infection festering inside you. No matter what you do, you can’t keep it from spreading. Taking hold of your blood so it can rip through you quickly.

And once it does, it’s got you.

My house is packed with a shit ton of people just how I like it. Since I live in the old part of town, neighbors don’t care. Don’t complain about the music or the people because most of my neighbors are probably here. My landlord is an old lady who doesn’t give a shit about what happens as long as it doesn’t come down on her.

I’m on the couch and have a girl on my arm. I don’t know how she got there, but I don’t care either. Her hand’s creeping toward my crotch and I’m begging for her to hurry up and make her destination.

Colt and Cheyenne didn’t show up. I was pissed earlier, but the longer I’m here, the more none of it matters. Sometimes I think I want it to matter. I mean, it should. It’s life and as much as mine’s been filled with darkness, I’ve seen the beauty. When Angel looked at Ash or when Ash looked at me like he thought I was the king of the fucking world or something. I was amazing to him. Like a superhero who he trusted from his teeny toes to the tips of his curly black hair.

That was fucking beautiful, until it shattered.

Damn, why did that creep in tonight?

I look at the redhead who’s now kissing my neck. She smells like beer, all tangy, mixed with some kind of perfume. “What’s your name, baby?” I ask her. When a girl has her hand slipping down your pants, you should at least know her name. I guess if she doesn’t care, I shouldn’t. I’m not even sure if I really do.

“Ashley, but my friends call me Ash,” she says against my skin, her breath freezing me. It’s like it starts in that one spot and then slowly spreads over my body, cracking my skin and my chest and my heart as it goes. My past is infecting me again. The disease sucking the breath from my lungs. I can’t fuck a girl with the same nickname as Ash. The little boy who thought I held the world in my hands.

“I can’t do this,” I tell her. She looks at me, confused, the corners of her eyes squinting, but I can’t stay or say anything else. Pushing to my feet, I maneuver my way through the maze of people in my house. I want them all to get the fuck out, but I won’t make them. The silence is so much louder than the pulse of music and people beating through me right now.

The door to Colt’s old room is open. There’s a couple on the old futon I shoved in there when he left. I ignore them and go straight to my room and lock the door behind me. I fall onto my bed, thinking that maybe it would be easier if I was like Colt used to be. If I could just ball my fist and beat the hell out of something, even if it was a wall, until I felt better, until the physical pain eclipsed the emotional.

I see Ash’s big brown eyes. Hear Angel’s cries. Smell the fucking beer on the bastard who hit him as I shoved my fist into his face over and over before they arrested me at the same time as him. He ran over and killed someone I loved, yet they treated me just as they did him.

Which, yeah, means I heard Angel’s cries after. I wasn’t even there when she got home that day. She came back to find me and Ash gone. I had to tell her later that I let him get killed. She told me, fucking told me that day not to let him play out front, but I didn’t listen and now he’s gone.

I pick up The Count, wishing I could focus on the words. Wishing I were Edmond or anyone but me. I reach for my weed but then shove it back into the drawer. Why can’t I lose myself in my own head like I used to? Get lost in my own world to block out the shit at home instead of sucking that crap into my lungs like I do now?