“Holy hell, Stems. Who’s this?”
“Tristan,” he answered, holding his hand out. Gavin placed her hand in his and smiled sweetly.
“Well, it’s certainly nice to meet you,” she said.
Josie laughed at the exchange while Tristan looked on.
“Stems?” he asked.
“It’s just Gavin’s nickname for me.”
“Yeah, it’s those legs,” Gavin answered.
“Oh. Well, I can second that appreciation. Gavin’s an interesting name,” Tristan said. “Some people think it originated with Sir Gawain who was a knight of King Arthur’s round table.”
“And smart too? Don’t you two make a pair. Damn,” Gavin said. Her eyes roamed up and down Tristan while she licked her lips.
“Gavin!” Josie almost shouted. “I thought you liked girls.”
“I did, until about two and a half minutes ago.”
The girls laughed while Tristan rubbed at the back of his neck and shifted from foot to foot.
“Anyway, make sure those get to the kids?”
“Of course, dear. She just loves to crack that whip,” Gavin said, giving Tristan a wink.
“You have no idea,” Tristan answered, returning the wink.
Josie stood and took Tristan’s hand in hers.
“I’ll see you around, Gavin.”
“You’re not staying for—”
“Nope. Don’t need to,” Josie cut her off.
Gavin smiled up at the couple as they walked away.
The ride back to Josie’s was quiet but not uncomfortable.
“Did we just deliver food to homeless kids?” Tristan asked when they parked in front of her building.
“Yes,” Josie said, looking out at the street.
Tristan sighed and looked at her. Every time he thought he had her figured out, something surprised him. He wondered if he’d ever truly learn all the secrets that made up Josie Banks.
“‘An outlaw that dwelled apart from other men, yet beloved by the country people round about, for no one ever came to ask for help in time of need and went away again without.’”
“What is that from?” Josie asked.
“The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood.”
“I don’t steal from the rich, though that’s an interesting idea,” she said.
“Let’s not add to your list of illegal activities, okay?”
Josie shrugged and stared out the window.
“When I turned eighteen, I left my foster home. I just had to get away from them. I didn’t have anything. So I ended up with a group of kids living near I-65 in the park.”
“Couldn’t anyone help you?”
“I was legally an adult. No one cared.”
“I’m not sure I’m an adult yet,” he said.
“After a few months Monica found me again. I had just started tagging. Throwing up pieces wherever I could. She tracked me down that way. She’s a persistent woman.”
“So she got you back on your feet?”
“She told me about my inheritance. Helped me get the money and a place to live. Now that I’m more fortunate, I bring them food whenever I can. It’s the least I can do.”
“That’s how you know Gavin and Gregory,” Tristan said, placing his hand over hers.
“The worst part is, most of us were better off on the streets than at home.”
Josie exited the car, ending the conversation.
A couple hours later, Tristan and Josie sat together on her couch.
“I’ve got to go soon,” Tristan said softly, running the pads of his fingertips along the back of her hand.
“What? No!” Josie protested.
“There’s nothing I’d rather do than stay wrapped up with you, but I can’t stand another day in these clothes, Josie. I have to work tonight.”
When he said things like that, Josie felt dizzy and mindless, like a happy drifting cloud with no direction. Despite his declaration, she huffed and pushed out her bottom lip, pouting like a child.
“Okay, I’ll let you go on one condition.”
“You’ll let me go? Am I being held hostage?”
“I guess it depends,” Josie hedged.
“On what?”
“Whether you’re here against your will or not.”
“Touché,” Tristan consented. “Well, the first phase of hostage negotiation is that you tell me your demands.”
She brought his nearest hand closer to her face, inspecting the small scars across his knuckles. She kissed each one reverently.
“Tell me about that night in the alley.”
Tristan frowned and curled his lips in on each other, as if locking his confession away. It occurred to him that Josie had already shared so much that he owed it to her to share this.
“Next we have the standoff. Ideally, this results in a peaceful ending,” he said. “But sometimes it ends in violence.”
“We wouldn’t want that,” Josie answered.
“Fine. I’ll terminate negotiations by giving in to your demands.”
“Good. I love winning.”
Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself to reveal secrets never spoken aloud before.
“I met Fiona when I was sixteen. She was beautiful, in that bought-and-paid-for kind of way. She was sad like me. I found out from a friend that her twin brother had recently died. I felt connected to her. At first, she ignored me. No matter how hard I tried, she dismissed me. She told me she wasn’t interested, but I never gave up.”
Tristan paused and glanced at Josie, nervous about her reaction.
“So not everything comes to you so easily?” Josie asked, grinning.
“No, not everything. After a few months of friendship, something changed and suddenly Fiona wanted more. By the time we graduated high school, I was completely infatuated with her. I was valedictorian of our class, had plans to go to Harvard and then law school. Fiona accused me of abandoning her. She cried and begged me to stay. I asked her to come with me, but she said her father would never allow it.”
“What did you do?” Josie asked.
“I blew off Harvard and enrolled in UNO. My parents were outraged. They said I was throwing away my future for a girl. They were right. I knew they were right, but I didn’t care.”
He could picture the fight in his head, his mother sobbing into her hands, his father throwing things around the house, cursing and shouting. He remembered feeling numb and unaffected by the theatrical meltdown. Tristan had only wanted to be with his girl. It was as simple as that.
“A few months after we moved in together, her father came for a visit. He was an intimidating man, loved to bully people with his money. He offered me a job. Said I’d be paid well and all I had to do was be available to deliver packages. He wasn’t the kind of person you turned down. That’s where it started. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was delivering illegal weapons, drugs, and cash to some of the dirtiest crooks in the South. Just like that, I was sucked into a life of crime.”
“Did Fiona know?”
He nodded and fiddled with the hem of his T-shirt. Of course Fiona knew, she knew everything. Tristan knew nothing.
“After a while, I dropped out of school and did her father’s work exclusively. I got my first tattoo after someone tried to kill me, the Day of the Dead skull on my shoulder. I also bought my first gun that week. I dealt with the shadiest people. They all feared me, and for a moment I felt like a god. The power, the money, it all got to me. My parents begged me to come home. Instead, I cut them out of my life.”
“How’d you end up here?” she asked, interlacing her fingers with his and pulling their joined hands into her lap.
“The guy in charge of the West Coast had been taken out and I was ordered to relocate. We moved four days later. When I wasn’t working, I was with Fiona. I could tell she wasn’t happy, not with me or our life. The more I tried, the more she resented me.”