Three Beating Hearts, page 20
One thousand angry words, insults and fear-induced questions cross my mind, but none of them are fully formed enough to speak. I shake my head and walk away.
“Stasia, wait.” He jogs up to me and turns, cutting me off and placing both hands at my upper arms. “It was just a joke. I was never in any real danger.”
“How do you know?” My voice echoes between the buildings.
“I was watching the lights.” He points to the traffic lamps above. “I knew what direction had the green light. I wasn’t as close to their side of the road as you think. Breathe.” He moves his hands up and down, rubbing his palms against my tense shoulders and upper arms.
“Why? What was the point?” My voice is a broken whisper.
“What’s the point of any of this?” he whispers back.
“Of what?”
“Life.”
His word is sharp and quick, but he means it. He’s not setting me up just to see how I’ll react. There’s an alarming amount of truth in his word.
“A little bleak, don’t you think?” I step away from him and cross my arms to block out the cold air that seeped in where his hands were.
“Or just realistic.” He slides out of his leather jacket and pulls it around my shoulders. I swim in it, but I appreciate the gesture.
Ames is straightforward and complicated. He is equal parts ‘live every moment like it’s your last’ and ‘life ain’t worth living’. He is driving me crazy—in more ways than one.
“Look…” He pulls the jacket tighter around me and steps in close. “I’ll take you home if you want. Safely. No games. If that’s what you want, just say the word.”
“I’ve survived this long. Might as well finish the journey.”
“A little bleak, don’t you think?” He winks and smiles with only one corner of his mouth.
“Or just realistic.”
We continue down the sidewalks until we end up in the heart of the city, an area crowded with skyscrapers and high-rises.
“This is the one.” Ames turns toward the main door of a massive, mostly glass building that’s lit only by the light of the moon.
“They’re clearly closed.” I peek through the doors where the only visible light is an exit sign at the opposite end of the lobby.
“Yes, they are. Guess we will just have to break in.”
“You can’t be serious.”
He pulls a key card from his pocket and holds it up while he wears a mischievous grin.
“Of course you weren’t serious. You hardly ever are.” I roll my eyes as he swipes the card then punches in a code on the keypad.
He doesn’t turn on any lights as we enter the building, but instead uses his phone to guide me toward the elevator. The doors open and we step on. He stands behind me as I look over the buttons on the elevator.
“Let me guess. Stasia, pick a number.”
“Not this time.” He leans forward so his body grazes my back, but only long enough for him to hit the number forty-seven.
Forty-seven. It’s the highest number listed on the glowing white, circular buttons—the top floor of the building. My heart and stomach drop and stay on the ground level as the elevator moves and we climb higher and higher. I don’t do heights…ever. I don’t even like the balcony at concerts or sporting events. Ferris Wheels? Forget it.
The ride is made even longer by the lack of elevator music. I’m too frightened to speak and my feet are planted firmly on the elevator floor, petrified to this spot, but I don’t want him to know that.
When the elevator comes to a slightly abrupt stop, I jump but try to settle myself as the elevator doors open. I step out, never happier to be on solid ground, but make the mistake of looking up. The entire area is ceiling-to-floor glass that overlooks the city for miles. I step backward, instinctively, into him. He wraps his arms around me in a soft, light embrace and leans forward.
“Are you okay?”
I nod but don’t speak. He slides his hand into mine and I accept, locking my fingers into his as he leads me to a white, blank door at the opposite side of the area. He uses his free hand to swipe the card once more and push the door open.
On the other side of the door is a short ladder that leads to a hatch in the ceiling.
He steps forward, pulling my hand as he reaches the ladder, but I pull away.
“Absolutely not.” I cross my arms and shake my head in a forceful no that shifts my hair out of place.
“You came all this way, took all these chances, played along the whole journey to give up right when you’re about to reach the destination?” He lets out a small tsk-tsk with his disappointed head shake. “This is the kind of thing that will keep you up at night. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow, but someday you’ll waste time wondering what the view from up here looks like and you’ll never know because you didn’t allow yourself the opportunity.” He places one foot on the bottom rung.
“You can stand here and fortune cookie me until the sun comes up. I’m not going.”
He steps away from the ladder and steps toward me, taking both his hands in mine.
“You’re sure? I won’t force you to go. I promise. But I do think you’ll regret it. If you never trust me on anything else, trust me when I tell you you’ll never see a view like this one.”
His voice is calm and kind and the least Ames-like I’ve ever heard it in this hypnotic vibe that somehow sinks into me and coerces me to do things I’d never be able to talk myself into, but he can.
I hold his hand as tight as I can as I step past him and drag him with me to the ladder before I change my mind. I’d be lying if I said I climbed the steps confidentially—my knees were shaking so forcefully I swear I could’ve caused an earthquake enough to bring this whole building to its foundation.
But I do it. I climb. I did it because he’d convinced me to, because he’d made me believe I could.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Dom
Theo sits to my left sipping on bourbon at the bar of a local joint we came across.
“What’s the deal with you and Ames?” he asks through sips of the amber liquid.
“I just don’t like the guy.” I squeeze a lemon in my glass.
“I’ve known you half my life. I’ve never once heard you say there’s someone you don’t like. What’s the story?”
I stare into my water. He’s been in my corner since we started this journey. I think about it long and hard for one moment. For sixty seconds I allow myself to believe I can open my mouth—childhood cardiac issue, dead best friend, current cardiac issue. All that and, well…Ames.
I don’t get the chance before he speaks again.
“I can guess.” He chews on ice and I turn toward him, face to face, to see what kind of theories he’s come up with. “You can’t stand that he’s with her.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” My ability to lie to the people closest to me with a natural ease is borderline disgraceful, but in this moment, that skill dissipates. The words are turbulent. Hell, I don’t even believe them.
“Stasia?” He smiles as he says her name, like we’re in elementary school whispering about a new crush. “It bothers you that he’s with her.”
“That’s not why I don’t like him.”
That part isn’t a lie. My history with Ames goes well beyond the part of the history book my band members opened to.
“I’ve seen the way you look at her.” His eyes soften and his voice quiets, like he feels bad, though I’m certain he doesn’t know what it is he’s sympathetic to. “All the places we have been and all the women we’ve met, I’ve never seen you look at someone like that. I’ve never seen you look at anything like that.”
Do I confirm his intuition? Is he the person I hand a key to? The person I unlock the vault for? But he continues on in a way that makes me grateful I didn’t open my mouth.
“I think it’s good—what you’re doing, you know.”
I raise an eyebrow and don’t try to mask my confusion.
“Letting her go. I know you like her, man, but this is a good choice. Not pursuing it for the good of the band? I know it’s hard, but it really is for the best.”
He was only half right.
What he doesn’t know is about the months of intimacy—the countless times of the last time, how much of myself I gave away when I agreed to let her in. He doesn’t know how much of my heart she holds.
Then again, neither does she.
“I know.” That’s all I can manage. Somehow, as he’s dredging up half-truths and inhibiting my ability to lie. I knew it would all catch up to me eventually.
“I have to get going.” I take the last sip of my water and slide a cash tip across the bar. “I’ll see you later.”
I walk out of the door and to the city streets. Fortunately for me, a taxi sits at the end of the block and saves me the time of having to order a ride through an app.
I have the driver drop me back off at the field where the stages are set up and walk across the silent, crowdless areas until I reach our assigned stage and sit on the front of it.
“I’m not really sure what to do anymore.” I talk out loud to Raya and shake my head. It’s been a long while since I’ve felt this much at a loss, unsure of what to do next. I painted this picture for myself. I was very aware of what it would cost me to push every single person away, to keep everyone at enough of a distance that they never got close enough to see the parts of me I was determined to hide, I just never intended to do it for this long.
“He’s making my life exceptionally difficult, you know. I’m not going to be able to get through to him, not the way you always did.”
Lying back, I put my hands behind my head and count the stars, wondering what she would think about me in these moments. What I wouldn’t give to see her roll her eyes at me when I’d suggested something she didn’t agree with or stick her tongue out at me when she was being utterly ridiculous—which was more often than not. She never needed music to dance. She never needed darkness to shine. There was a time someone asked her about her bucket list. “Since when do we have to be dying to live?” she’d asked, and there was something beautiful in that.
Everything about her was beautiful.
“He’s going to tear me apart. I’m not sure what he thinks he’s going to gain by making life this hard for me. I know he’s hurt. He’s hurt by what we did and the choices we made and I get that. But nothing he is doing is going to fix it.”
I sit up and stare at the area the crowd would be occupying if there were one.
“I need to know how to fix this, Raya.”
Chapter Thirty
Stasia
He wasn’t wrong.
I’ve never seen a view like this one.
From here, I can see more of the city than I’ve ever seen at one time. It’s the closest to the stars and moon I’ve ever been. Sure, there are planes, but I’m usually a martini and several anti-anxiety meds deep anytime I step onto one.
I stand exactly in the center of the building, not brave enough to move.
Ames walks to the very edge, the toes of his boots overhanging the edge.
“How do you do that?” I ask with an exasperated exhale. “How do you just walk through life like nothing could go wrong?”
“I’m incredibly aware of all that can go wrong, Stasia.” He turns toward me so his heels flirt with the edge and the city backdrops his dark silhouette. “I just don’t let it dictate my days. What if it goes bad, yeah, but what if it goes great? Everyone focuses on the bad outcome. I choose not to. What are you afraid of?”
“I mean…we could die up here.”
“We could die down there.” He stretches one hand straight out toward me, palm up, and in a move that surprises me more than it does him, I take the slow, steady steps that get me to stand at his side, balancing what seems like miles above the streets.
The sound of a camera shutter and the flash of a light distract me, causing me to snap out of my daze.
“What are you doing?” My cheeks flush.
“Enjoying the view,” he says, though his camera is on me alone, hardly catching any of the cityscape.
He steps back and takes another picture, this time surely capturing my position in front of the multitude of sky rises and gorgeous buildings.
“You’ll want to remember this.” He snaps one more picture. “I know I will.”
I turn over my shoulder and I can’t help but smile. I can’t fight him anymore. He’s contagious, and I’m not immune.
“Take one with me.” I hold out my hand and he takes it, walking me a few steps in from the edge.
“You know what they’ll say about us if you post this anywhere.” He laughs as he speaks. “Can’t possibly have two celebrities in one picture without a media buzz detailing dating, marriage, pregnancy. You know.”
“I haven’t really dealt with that. I’m not much of a celebrity, yet.”
“They know your name. They know my name. As soon as we post this, they’ll use them both in the same headline. Are you ready for that?”
I stare at him, too long, then I reach up, place my hand at the nape of his neck and pull him down to me in a long, slow kiss.
“I’m ready.”
He hands me the phone and turns me around so he’s hugging me from behind and places his pierced lip lightly against my cheek. I reach my arm as far out as I can, careful to include both of us as well as the city’s most pristine backdrop and snap the picture.
I don’t know what happens next, but who cares? What if it’s something great?
Ames has this way about him that makes me throw all caution to the wind but feel good about the choice I’m making, like I’m invincible, like I’ll never be hurt again. He’s even convinced me to sit at the edge of the building, looking out over my new favorite view.
It’s easy to forget how many stories up we are with his arm around me, making me feel safe and secure, even with my feet hanging hundreds of feet above the ground.
“How did we end up here, anyway?” I lean my head into his shoulder and close the opening of his leather jacket tighter around me. I haven’t given it back, and I likely never will. “And by that, I mean how did we end up up here. Where’s the key card from?”
Ames rubs his hand up and down my upper arm and grins. I can tell he plans to make some kind of smart remark or crack his wit, but he doesn’t. For once, he actually answers me.
“My parents own it.” He stares ahead and points to other large, expansive buildings. “And that one, and that one, and a handful of others just like them all over the country.”
My mouth falls open, and I blink several times before composing myself.
“They own the companies?” If I’m being honest, I had no idea Ames came from money. It doesn’t matter to me. I come from wealth, too, but many people who have money talk about it. He doesn’t.
“They own the buildings. They are, essentially, commercial building real estate tycoons. The major companies rent or buy the property from them, but they do the purchasing, fixing up and leasing.”
“Impressive.”
I can’t even begin to wonder how much work and money goes in to a business like that. I had the chance to run a large company, and I gave it up. Kelly is doing an incredible job. She was always a better fit for that kind of position than I was.
“Are you close with them?” I look up at him.
“I used to be. Growing up, my sister and my parents and I were all incredibly close. We did everything together.”
“What changed?”
“Everything.” He shrugs and let’s go of my shoulder, tightly clasping his hands together in front of him. “My sister passed away five years ago. She was so young, so full of life. In the end, I’ve realized she was the one who kept us all together. Now that she’s gone, we’ve mostly fallen apart. Sometimes, though, I think my parents can’t look at me without hurting for her. There were always two of us. There’s not anymore.”
“I’m so sorry.” I place my hand on his and he runs his thumb over the edge of my finger. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be to lose someone so close to you. I’ve only known my brother for a year, and I can’t imagine my life without him.”
“It was far and wide the worst thing I’ve ever been through. I wasn’t ready.”
“It was sudden?” I try to read his eyes though he’s purposely keeping his gaze angled away from mine.
“No, not really. But in some ways, yes.” He finally looks at me, the tiniest, almost unnoticeable hint of tears filling his almost-black eyes. “She had a heart condition. She spent most of her life battling—procedures, surgeries, medications. She had turned a corner and was doing better, or so we thought. But her heart had other plans. Just further proof that money really can’t buy happiness. She was at the top of the donor list when she died.”
I drop my head back and stare at the sky, glancing from one star to the next in this way that’s like trying to connect the physical dots while I connect the mental ones.
The initials carved in Dom’s drum set. The incessant but seemingly uncalled for feud. And of course, what Dom had said to me early on. “There is a brother-sister bond that shouldn’t be messed with.”
“Ames,” I say, out loud, about to ask a question I already know the answer to, “what was her name?”
He drops his head back and looks upward so his voice, too, is directed to the moon when he answers.
“Raya.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Dom
The soundproof walls likely have little to no effect on this particular mess of a masterpiece I’m playing. No rhythm. No order. Just noise and aggression in a way that I could likely make into a song, but I haven’t actually paid attention to any of the patterns. I strike, they sound. Nothing else matters. Sweat pours down my forehead, my chest and abdomen. My heart beats rapidly and I’m not wearing my watch, which is more monitor and less timepiece. I finish an intense drum solo and toss my sticks behind me as I stomp toward the kitchen and use the dish towel to wipe my head and chest. I slam it to the counter once more and stand there for a while, leaning into the granite, unsure of what to do next.
