Read The Struggle (The Things We Can't Change Book 2) Online

Authors: Kassandra Kush

Tags: #YA Romance

The Struggle (The Things We Can't Change Book 2) (4 page)

I watch him go, trying to calm my heavy breathing before I look back at Zeke. He’s finished wiping up the floor and is carefully folding up the rag. When he’s finished, he looks up and meets my eyes, and we stare at each other for a loaded moment.

I want to thank him, for saving me yet again, but I know from the look in his hard eyes that the thanks won’t be welcome. He probably doesn’t know why he did it any more than I do. I wish we could bridge whatever this gap is, comfort each other because I know we have both lost so much, but I know it’s impossible. I may feel safe around Zeke, but I have secrets that I will take with me to the grave, and no one will ever be able to get them out of me. Not even Zeke.

Instead, I just give him a nod. One quick jerk of my head, indicating without words and emotion that I’m grateful for what he did, and that the moment is done, with no strings. He strides away without a backward glance, and I see another one of the servers, a girl around our age with silky blonde hair, walk up to Zeke and slip an arm around his waist with a definite air of familiarity. For a moment I feel a crazy flash of jealousy that even I don’t understand. I feel safe with Zeke, I think he’s beautiful, but I also know he’s rude and mean and tough and untouchable with walls that may just rival mine. I’d be crazy to even think for a second I could handle him—or even have a chance with him.

I also know one other thing; even if I did have feelings for Zeke, I’d never act on them, not in a million years. I am done with love, with letting someone have such power over me, with being vulnerable. I’ll never willingly put myself in that situation again. I’d be crazy to allow it.

But what worries me is I spend the majority of my time convincing myself that I am
not
crazy. And so if being crazy is what it would take… I may not be that far off.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ezekiel

27

 

 

 

“So, where to?” Tessa asks as we leave the country club at well past midnight. “Are we going over to Cameron’s party? His dad is out of town, so it’ll probably be a good one, not like last time.”

“Cameron’s,” I confirm, and take a moment away from my worries to watch Tessa’s ass as she rounds her Corolla to the driver’s seat. As far as unattached flings go, I could do a lot worse than Tessa. She’s gorgeous, at least five ten, with eye-popping curves in all the right places and a strong, lithe athlete’s body. Her eyes are bright blue, and her hair, if not as long as Evie’s, is a nice honey blonde color.

And there I go, comparing her to Evie Parker,
again
. Ever since Tessa and I started hooking up a month ago, I’ve been doing it. Mostly before I even realize it. I’ll lay there, Tessa asleep beside me, and yet when I close my eyes, I’m holding a body that’s much shorter, though with a no less impressive figure, and the hair my fingers are playing with is almost a foot longer and a rich chocolate color. And if I were to nudge her awake, her eyes would be violet, not blue. A one-in-a-million color and feline shape that makes my dead hands want to draw, even though I’ve already renewed my vow never to do it again.

I shake off my thoughts of Evie as Tessa peels out of the parking lot, welcoming the adrenaline rush of speeding through the streets. I don’t know why I went and rescued her from her ass of a stepbrother tonight. I could tell Evie didn’t understand either, and I was relieved when she only nodded at me and let me go, not making a big deal out of it.

“Zeke? Hellloooo, earth to Zeke!”

I come back to the car and look over at Tessa. She’s holding out two cigarettes and looking at me with raised eyebrows.

“Sorry,” I mutter. “Long day.”

“Oh, yeah, how was the last day of school? Poor little junior.” Tessa laughs, as though the one year between us makes her superior.

“Senior, now, thanks,” I correct, and light up for both of us, passing her cigarette back to her as I open the windows and let in the cool night air. The humidity from the rainstorms the past week has finally dissipated, and I’m hoping it will stay away for the rest of the month.

We make the quick drive to Cameron’s house, on Hayden Avenue in a grittier section of downtown Columbus. It’s his dad’s house, where he is allowed to run free, while his mom actually lives in Grandview so he can attend school there. I’ve never met his parents, and frankly, from the way they let him just run amok, I don’t think I’d care to. It’s an actual house instead of an apartment, but his dad keeps the cars outside because Cameron has taken over the one and a half car garage. I don’t know if it’s by his dad’s choice or Cameron’s, but it’s where all of his ‘parties’ take place.

We enter through the side door and walk into a haze of smoke, stale hot air and the sickly sweet scent of beer—lots of it. We make our way through the crowd and I nod at the people I know from school, but most are strangers. Some of them I’ve gotten to know over the past month, since I started hanging with Cameron more often.

It’s crowded, a ton of teenagers and some even older or younger from all over—Cameron knows a lot of people, and let’s just say not a whole lot of them are petty graffiti artists like me. Some of them are the real deal, and still others are people he met in juvie last year. People I would have avoided before, but now I just don’t care.

Tessa and I are already two cups of beer in by the time Cameron finds us. Dominic is at his side and gives me a relieved looking nod from behind Cameron’s back; he’s grateful I’m here. Koby will tag along occasionally, when something is eating at him and he needs to get away, but tonight obviously hadn’t been one of those nights.

“Hey, Quain, Donahue, nice of you to show up.”

“Only just got off work an hour ago,” I reply calmly. Mentioning work makes me think of the club, and the club makes me think of Evie Parker. Evie, and those damned, vulnerable, huge eyes of hers. Purple eyes. Who the hell would guess that
purple
eyes would be attractive?

Fuck.
I shouldn’t be thinking of Evie at all. I determinedly chug the rest of my beer and deliberately rest a hand on Tessa’s hip. More like the curve of her ass, really. She looks up at me with a catty smile, and while her blue eyes seem a little plain and watery compared to Evie’s clear violet ones, they are still full of promise. I hardly notice because I’m already looking at Cameron, desperate to be occupied and distracted.

“You got any? You said you would.”

Cameron sneers at me, but his eyes light up. He loves having something that I want. He’s crazy about having any kind of power over people. Must be his little dick, or so I joke privately with Koby and Dominic.

“Calm down, Quain. I’ve got it. Do you want it now, or do you two have… business to take care of first?” He’s staring at my hand on Tessa.

I know Tessa would like to skip the party altogether and just go to her house next door, but I’m not ready for that. Not that I’d have to be drunk to want Tessa; I’d have to be drunk
not
to want Tessa. But I want mindless numbness first, and at the moment, Cameron is the key to that.

“We’re good,” I say, ignoring Tessa’s hopeful look. “Lead the way… Fuller.”

He leads us to the back of the room, where a few ratty couches and La-Z-Boys are located. They’re stained and, quite frankly, gross, but I’m tipsy enough not to care by now and readily settle down next to Cameron, though Dominic goes off in pursuit of a girl standing by the keg. I watch almost greedily as Cameron rolls the blunt.

I want it, want to just float away and not have to deal with any of it. I’m not addicted; I value sanity and my brain cells too much for that. But sometimes I just need to be free of it with minimal effort on my part.

Two hours later, I’m there and don’t have a care in the world. I’m high, pleasantly wasted on cheap beer and even my stomach is full from the dozen pizzas someone ordered about an hour ago. I’ve got a beautiful girl next to me, even if I don’t really care much about her, and I’m thinking that even though in general my life fucking sucks, right now it’s not too bad.

Cameron sits back on the couch, his eyes half-lidded just like mine, a beer cradled in his right hand. His other arm is around a dark skinned girl I’ve never seen before. She’s kissing his neck, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

Tessa is laying with her head on my lap, awake but slightly trashed, and I’m playing with her hair, thinking how it’s not nearly as long and thick and beautiful as Evie’s. And then I think how stupid it is to think that, because I only touched Evie’s hair for about two seconds, the night Tony practically killed her.

Yet I remember it like it was yesterday. The flowery, tropical scent of her, how I imagine the smell of those beaches I’ve never seen but always dreamed of. It was soft, like silk, and incredibly thick and curly. Tessa’s hair feels a little dry, stiff and crackly and criminally short by comparison, only to her shoulders and straight as a pin.

I realize I’m thinking about Evie,
again
, and focus on the parts of Tessa that I actually like; her ass, her hips, how tall she is compared to pipsqueaks like Evie.

Cameron leans forward, dark eyes intent on me. “So, what’s it going to be tonight, Quain? We gonna head out later?”

“Man, if you fucking think I can drive right now,” I begin, because it wouldn’t be the first time he’s had a dumbass idea. Tessa pulls herself up from my lap and wanders off, saying she’s getting us something to drink.

“I’m talking about
later
, after we’ve all sobered up a bit,” he snaps back. “See, everyone has seen your marks on the bridges and on the warehouses. But they seem to think you’re not the real deal.”

“I think the marks speak for themselves,” I say, bored with Cameron by now. I knock back the two shots Tessa has brought back for us, and as I watch her walk away to dispose of the glasses, the only emotion I feel inside me is pure lust.

Mission: accomplished.

“They’re saying you don’t have it in you to tag something live. Like an open business… or a house.”

“I can tag anything that will stand still long enough,” I say, too drunk to actually get indignant over someone trying to insult my pride and ability. They all thought I did the graffiti because I was a badass, out of rebellion just like them. Little did they know it was just a need, plain and simple, to deal with my emotions. I needed the release, the adrenaline rush.

“So when we get you up in a few hours, you’ll tag anything we take you to? Anything at all?” Cameron asks.

I should be focusing on the gleam in his ebony eyes, but I’m too busy watching Tessa’s hips swing as she walks away from me, and I’m already standing up from the couch to follow her.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Fuller,” I say, and follow Tessa into the house.

One of the reasons I like being around Tessa is because I feel nothing for her. Nothing before, not during, and not after. Pure personal gratification, and nothing more. I just always feel… blank after. Wiped clean, empty and hollow but not in a sad way. In the way I always strive for. Just… empty. No emotions at all. Not like when I see Evie, and the way she explodes my chest with one look of her eyes. I want her to disappear from my mind, permanently.

So I follow Tessa into the spare bedroom and fall into the meaningless act, getting all the emotions out, letting the darkness of the room and act fill me, fill my soul, so that even when I fall asleep, I’m too empty to even dream.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ezekiel

28

 

 

 

BAM!

My head slams against the warm metal hood of the police cruiser and I close my eyes against the stars that suddenly burst into my vision. When I open my eyes, I realize it’s not actually stars at all, but the bright blue and red lights of the cop car, flashing against the early grey dawn and visible even through my eyelids.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you…”

I close my eyes as my rights are read. It isn’t the first time I’ve heard it, and looking at my bleak future, it probably won’t be the last. Even though all the emotions are out of me, my heart is still racing, but now it’s for an entirely new reason. This is going to be it. I’d been warned last time, one more offense and I was going to be shipped away. All I can think is how my dad will flip, and Uncle Alex will probably beat the living shit out of me for being so stupid.

My wrists are roughly and tightly cuffed, and I recognize Chief Kelly’s voice from the banquet last night as he leans down to whisper, “Got you this time, Quain. You won’t be marking my town ever again, I can guarantee you that.”

I roll my eyes as he hauls me upright, though he can’t see. As he escorts me toward his own cruiser, I see that I’m the only one caught—again. I wonder how that is, if I’ve ever been set up or something, or if perhaps all my running in the mornings just isn’t paying off.

Chief Kelly is interrupted in the lecture he’s currently giving me when the front door to the Parkers’ home bursts open and all four of them—Dr. Parker, his Stepford wife, Hunter, and Evie—all spill out the front door in various stages of bedhead and undress. Mrs. Parker and her son take in the situation with a glance, and then give a careless sigh and step back into the house. Evie and her father, however, look over the police cruisers, and I see the exact moment that Evie spots me.

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