But in the end none of that mattered. And I can’t help but feel helpless. I always feel like it’s just me against the world. How do I win that fight?
I can’t.
Me against the world is not a good plan of attack in the war that is life.
I blow out a long breath of air and try to think about something else. Because it’s not fair for me to take out my unresolved past on Elise, Antoine, and Ronin. They are baby people. Totally. And they are so excited. It’s not fair that I disrupt their good vibes with my bad ones.
I pull into Spencer’s driveway and park the truck and then grab my backpack and get out before Spence feels the need to come check on me. He’s a good guy, even if he does have an unhealthy obsession with guns. I glance over at the shop and it’s all dark. So that probably means Ford isn’t home because it’s way too early to be in bed. I go inside and drop my backpack on the floor next to the basement stairs, then go into the kitchen and look for Spencer.
“Spence?”
“Back here,” he calls out from the living room.
“Whatcha doin?” I ask him as I take in the images spread out on the coffee table.
“Putting together a portfolio for you, Blackbird. So you can have a record of what we did last summer.”
I plop down next to him on the couch and pick up a few of the images. “They turned out pretty good, huh?”
“Pretty good doesn’t even cover it, Rook. I’ve sold more bikes in the last month than my old man did the entire year before I took the company over.”
Spencer continues what he’s doing, sorting through the images and choosing some to put into the clear pages inside the black book. “Thank you for this,” I say as I watch him choose. “Which one’s your favorite?”
He flips through the book to the first page. “This one,” he laughs. “That’s why it’s first.”
I take the book from his outstretched hands and look over his choice. It’s Spence and me. I’m painted up with all his tattoos on my top half, and my bottom half is a painted-on version of his ripped and faded jeans. “You know what’s funny? That was my favorite outfit as well. I’m not sure why, it’s just too cool that you and I had the same artwork on our bodies at the same time, ya know?”
Spencer smiles. “Yeah, that one’s called The Team.” He leans back on the couch and looks over at me. “That’s what the four of us are now, you know that, right? We’re a team.”
And my thoughts flood back to me. The day I met Ford and we all went to dinner to celebrate our partnership at that French restaurant. That’s what I thought about Ronin and me that day. That we were a team. “I’m a lucky girl, Spencer Shrike. Because this is one special team and I’m honored to be on it. I just hope I can live up your greatness and not disappoint you.”
He chuckles. “Shit, Rook, we’re still floored that you put up with us at all. And Ford? You seriously deserve a fat cash bonus for mellowing that asshole out.” We sit in silence as I flip the page of the book. The second picture is of cyborg sex-kitten Rook and Terminator Ronin. “That’s Ronin’s favorite,” Spence says softly.
“I love this one too. I was so sad that day and Ford read to me and then Ronin and I had a very serious conversation about my past in the shower.” I look up at Spencer to see if he knows about this, but if he does, he holds it in.
I flip the page again. This time I’m the catwoman. “That’s Antoine’s favorite,” Spencer adds as he flips to the next page. “And this one is Ford’s.” The fourth image is me in the white bikini. “Because he said you started growing a backbone that day.”
A laugh busts out of me unexpectedly. “Fucking Ford.”
Spencer leans in and puts his arm around me, then kisses me on the head. “You know I’m here for you, whatever you need. Whenever you need it. OK?”
I look up and the tears are starting again. “Ronin called you?”
Spence nods. “Yeah, and it’s gonna be OK, Rook. I’m not sure what’s going on with you or whatever. But it’s gonna work out.”
All the tears spill out now and I shake my head. “I’m not so sure, Spencer,” I whisper. “I’m really not so sure. There’s so much more about my past than I’ve told you guys. I have so much locked away inside.”
He just lets me cry and holds me close as he continues to turn the pages of the book, commenting on each outfit until I’m calm again.
Spencer Shrike is a good guy. I feel it in my heart. He’s so calm and understanding. Nothing much fazes him. Spencer Shrike screams strength.
And we’re a team, he said. It doesn’t have to be me against the world.
Because I’m part of the team.
Chapter Twenty-Seven - RONIN
I pull Clare aside as Roger dismisses today’s models for lunch. “I need to talk to you, Clare. Wanna have lunch with me upstairs?”
She winds her arm around mine and smiles brightly. “Absolutely!”
We walk up to my apartment together and I usher her in after I open the door. “Rook made some pasta yesterday. Want some of that? Or I have cheese and stuff.”
“Rook doesn’t look like the domestic type. I’m surprised she even knows how to cook pasta.”
I close the fridge and turn around. “See, that’s pretty much what I have to talk about. This animosity you have for Rook has to stop. I love this girl, Clare. I’m not breaking up with her, she’s not breaking up with me, we’re gonna get married and live out all that happily-ever-after bullshit. Because she’s the one. You need to stop talking shit about her.”
I expect a total capitulation, but she hands me a shrug. “I don’t believe you, Ronin.”
I laugh, seriously let out a total guffaw. “Which part is giving you trouble then? I’ll try to be clearer.”
“The part where you think Rook is sticking around. Everyone talks about her, ya know. All the Chaput models have filled me in on how things went when she got there. Even some of the photographers think she’s got one foot out the door.”
I can only shake my head at her brazen audacity. “Clare, listen to me very carefully, OK? Shut the fuck up about Rook. I do not give one shit what you think about my relationship with her. It’s none of your goddamned business. And if I fucking even get a whiff that you’re being nasty to her, or telling her shit about photoshoots, present ones or otherwise, I’ll fire you from this contract so fucking fast your head will spin.”
She laughs. “You couldn’t fire me, Ronin. The GIDGET people want me. They’d be pissed.”
“You must be under the impression that I give a fuck what those people want. I don’t. I bid on this contract because it was a challenge, not because I need the fucking money. And I’ll tell you something right now. I’ll throw it all away, pay off every fucking model, every fucking photographer, and every fucking crew member and walk away in a second. This job is a commitment I chose to fulfill because it looked fun, and nothing else.”
The shock on her face starts somewhere in the middle of my speech and by the time I’m done she looks ready to cry. “Why are you being so mean to me?”
“Mean? Fuck, girl. I’ve done nothing but help your ass for months. The least you can do is be fucking cordial to the woman I love.”
“Ronin! I’ve always had your back, you know that. We’ve always been tight.”
“We’ve always been friends, nothing more. So what’s with all this new relationship shit?”
“I just think she’s unpredictable and she’s gonna end up hurting you, I can feel it.”
“Well, look, Clare. I’m a big fucking boy, OK? If she does take off, you can rest assured that I can handle it. She’s not gonna, by the way. She won’t.” My phone buzzes and I take it out of my pocket and check the message. “Someone’s here to see me, so is this all clear, then?” Her look is defiant but she keeps silent as she nods her head. “Good, then let’s go.”