my thoughts of Bryan, the boy who once had listened to me and seemed to care about my dreams and valued my smiles. The jagged lines represented War. He pushed me, made me angry, but he also stirred my sensual desires. That kiss had been unforgettable. Factoring in the way he sang with the way he kissed, I suspected there was more to him than arrogance. But I couldn’t be sure.
Restless, I shifted in my chair. I was attracted to War, but he was a big unknown. On the other hand, so was Bryan. My heart longed to reconnect with him, but if I tried, would I find remnants of the boy I’d known, or more cool rejection by the man?
Catching my bottom lip between my teeth, I began to shade in the outfit with the side of my pencil. I felt like my drawings sometimes—just an outer layer. All most people cared about was that. But there was a girl inside me, one with big hopes and lofty dreams beneath the surface. But I was the only one who really knew or cared about her.
“What are you doing up?”
Startled by Uncle Bruce’s voice, I glanced up. “I . . . I couldn’t sleep.”
Messy black hair overshadowed features that were too boldly drawn to be pleasing, and eyes that were a darker gold than Dizzy’s or mine.
“It’s a school night, Lace.” His disapproval bored holes in me.
“I know.” My stomach tied itself into knots, much like my tongue did when I was around him.
“If you know, you should be in your room.” He pointed with his head.
“No place to draw there.” The words escaped before I could stop them.
He frowned. “If you want a table, you should buy one. Spend your salary on furniture rather than clothing.”
Uncle Bruce was always going on about money and responsibility. I got it. My mom had been the ultimate example of the opposite. Everything she possessed, even her own children, had been bartered to feed her out-of-control drug addiction. But lectures about responsibility delivered by my uncle without any warmth or affection left me feeling as lonely and cold as I’d been when living with her.
I wrapped my arms around myself. “Can I get you something?” I asked, staring down at my drawing, the lines blurring with stupid tears I refused to shed. I never cried anymore. The last time had been the night of the Metallica concert.
If Dizzy were awake, he would chastise me. My brother didn’t understand why I let Uncle Bruce get to me, or why I was always trying to please him.
Sure, how our uncle treated us bothered Dizzy too, but my brother and I weren’t wired the same way. Dizzy buried his feelings deep and was content to live his life on the superficial level. I hadn’t yet developed that knack. The little-girl part of me kept chipping at the ice around my uncle’s heart, feeling colder and number every time he rejected me. I retreated, not because I chose to, but because I was forced to.
Uncle Bruce shook his head, scowling. “No, Lace. What I want is for you to go back to bed. This is my house. The situation what it was with your mother, I stepped up and gave you and your brother a place to stay. But only until you’re of age.”
“Thank you for that. For everything,” I murmured, like I had many times before.
“While you’re here,” he said sharply, pointing a finger at me, “you need to remember that you have your space, and I have mine. It works that way. Understand?”
“Yes.” I gathered my drawing pad and my pencils to my chest. “Sorry.” Standing, I ducked my chin and quickly padded away from him across the chilly floor.
“Lace,” he called softly.
I turned around, my heart beating fast and my expression hopeful.
“Remember, this arrangement with you living here is only temporary.”
“Just until I graduate.” My heart slowed and my expression fell. “I remember.” Swallowing the bitterness, I retreated once more.
• • •
War
I stumbled up the front steps to my place. Jazzed up on too much coke and not enough sedatives to slow my adrenaline, I cursed silently at how my legs shook and my hand trembled. It took me three attempts to insert my key in the lock.
Inside the small tile entryway, I turned to close the door and quickly twisted the three deadbolts. At the sound of light footsteps, I froze, hoping my mother would turn aside and go into the kitchen rather