This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places &incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used ficticiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business companies, events or locals is entirely coincidental.
No part of the publication and its associated content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without written permission of the author. Copyright infringement is punishable by law.
Copyright © 2011 Leah Crichton
All rights reserved.
*This story contains explict language which may offend some readers. Please read at your own discretion*
Chapter One
Sawyer did an unceremonious face-plant onto the hood of the cop car as he assumed the position. "Easy five-oh, you're gonna mess up my face!"
The cop dug his elbows further into Sawyer's back, "so now you're a pretty boy worried about your face? Not so tough anymore, are you?"
Sawyer rolled his eyes and wondered how tough RoboCop would be if his hands were cuffed behind his back and he was getting up close and personal with the smell of warm engine.
Chaos erupted around them like a volcano. Devin sat with paramedics who tried in vain to treat her. She was being a real pain in the ass, bawling her eyes out. When she wasn't crying she was yelling. Charlie was by her side attempting to calm her down. She was having about as much luck as the paramedics. Seabass, Robbie and Lane were giving RoboCop's partner witness statements.
Sawyer closed his eyes and wished he could get a good look at the guy he'd roughed up but the ambulance door kept him hidden from view.
"Please," Devin pleaded. "Let him go."
"Shhh," Charlie scolded. "Shut up or you might be joining Sawyer in the back of that car."
Devin ignored her sister completely, "please officer! That man sent me flying down the stairs. Sawyer didn't do anything wrong!"
The upset in her voice made him cringe. It was a long shot, but he had to try. "Can I talk to her?" he asked the cop.
"I don't think so, son."
"Please," he tried playing nice, "she's just a kid. If that damned paparazzo hadn't gotten so close, none of this would have happened and she'd be at a movie right now like a million other kids her age. Please."
The cop pulled the back of Sawyer's shirt, allowing him to stand. Imagine that, he was less Robo and more Cop. "You have five minutes," he said.
Every word he spoke was pushing his luck to the extreme but that was what Sawyer did best. "Wait! Think I can lose the bracelets?" He shrugged his shoulders up.
"You want me to undo the cuffs?"
"It'd sure be nice," Sawyer said.
"You've got to be kidding me. Are you on drugs, son?"
"Look Sir." Calling the guy 'sir' made his stomach turn in revulsion. He'd never been one for authority figures, least of all cops. But it was for Devin. "You can walk behind me with your gun stuck in my back. She's just a kid and she's scared. Seeing me handcuffed is freakin' her out."
The cop contemplated his decision while Sawyer added, "I could run but take my word for it...I'm famous. There is literally nowhere for me to hide."
The man in blue looked at Devin and back at Sawyer and then moved behind him to remove the handcuffs. "My niece will be happy to hear you seem like a decent guy. Her room is covered in posters of your band."
Sawyer rubbed his wrist and gave him the best smile he could. "Circumstances are less than ideal, but I'll get Seabass to give you our contact information. Next time we're playing in town I'll make sure your niece gets VIP tickets to the show."
The cop looked genuinely surprised. "You'd do that?"
Sawyer shrugged. He didn't like the police but he'd make an exception for this one. He was willing to overlook the whole "you're not so tough now" crap to get a few minutes with Devin. He couldn't remember how, when or why Charlie's little sister had become so important to him. But she was. Having someone to look out for was a good feeling.
He approached Devin with sensible caution. Every step he took, he felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck; the cop was watching with hawk eyes. He wanted to reach into his pocket for a smoke but that would no doubt be a critical mistake. He didn't dare move his hands anywhere the five-oh couldn't see them. Charlie getting shot last year was enough gun violence to last his lifetime and he had no intentions of finding out first-hand what it felt like.
Dev's face was caked in dirt, a fine dusting of filth from her tumble down the stairs. The tears that fell left distinguished lines on her face.
The paramedics saw him coming and most likely thanked God someone else had to deal with the holy terror that was on their stretcher. They stepped to the side.
"Why are you being such a pain in the ass?"
"This is stupid!" Devin complained. "They should be arresting that guy, not you."
"In due time, darlin,'" Sawyer replied. "Scumbags are sadly entitled to medical attention. Which by the way, he's getting more of than you cause he's cooperating rather than fighting."
Devin crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.
Sawyer narrowed his eyes and glared back, then smiled, knowing he looked ridiculous. Devin sniffled and laughed. That was more like it. Watching her cry gave him a horrible tightness in his chest. He'd once confessed this to Lane, who told him it was called a feeling. Smartass.
"I don't want you to go to jail," she said.
Sawyer rested his hand on her arm. "Listen. I probably shouldn't tell you this but I've been there a few times. They're gonna book me then I'll see a judge who will set bail, then Seabass over there is going to make with the money. I'll be back at home before you know it."
"Really?"
"Yeah. That's exactly how it's going to work."
Her features which were pinched in fierce concentration softened. "So they won't just lock you up?"
"Naw," he said. "I bet there's a whole line up of people who'd lock me up and throw away the key but the cops aren't on that list." Yet. He rubbed her arm with the back of his knuckle. "Now stop being such a major pain in the ass and let the paramedics do what they have to do, yeah? I'll see you tomorrow."
Devin nodded.
Sawyer walked back to the cop car exactly as he'd promised. He held his hands out for the cop to cuff him again but he shook his head.
"Naw," he said. "I trust you."
Sawyer smiled. "Thank God. I need a smoke."
Alexa ran her finger along the edge of the patchwork, admiring the quilt. Each small square represented something; a moment in time, a place, a person. Treasured memories held between the threads of the fabric. Someone had put a great deal of thought and time into this quilt and here it was, a church rummage sale find almost two years ago. She folded it and set it beside her luggage before resuming the task of packing her limited wardrobe.
Rachel's fingers stopped moving like rapid fire across the pages of the magazine she'd been reading long enough to scrutinize the shirt Alexa held in her hand. "You're not seriously packing that thing, are you?"
Alexa blinked and looked at the item in question. It was a short sleeved button up top with vertical stripes."Well, I was going to, yes."
"Are you going to time warp back into 1990? God if you're going for that look at least go grunge not dork. A little more Nirvana a little less...well...that."
Alexa stuck out her tongue, rolled the shirt and promptly shoved it in her suitcase. "We don't all have money, Rachel."
"You don't need money to have fashion sense," Rachel argued. "you can afford to have a clue." She picked up a scarf Alexa owned, only because Rachel had purchased it for her birthday. It was black and white zebra striped on one side with a skull print on the other. "This," she said, waving it, "didn't cost a lot of money. But pair it with jeans, flats and a cute little tee and you'll look amazing instead of plain and boring."
Alexa sighed and wished she could ignore Rachel's digs about her fashion sense. She grabbed the scarf and put it in her bag. "My wardrobe is the least of my worries," she said. "I have to--"
"Focus on your future," Rachel's eyes settled on the ceiling. "Blah, blah, blah."
"We don't all live a charmed life Rachel."
"Right," Rachel said. "I forgot you're so hard done by what with your intellect parents and your white picket fence."
"Says the girl who got a pony for her fifth birthday and a car for her sixteenth."
"My parents try to compensate for the fact that they're never around. They buy my love. That's all."
"That's all! You won't ever have to work a single day in your life, Rach. I have to do well for myself."
Rachel sighed and closed the magazine. "There's doing well for yourself and then there's you. You're a classic overachiever, a perfectionist. Isn't being perfect exhausting? You can't tell me you'd rather spend your summer at the looney bin than here with me, lounging poolside in bikinis."
"As if I would ever wear a bikini," Alexa murmured. "And besides. You know I like to do this kind of thing."
Rachel swung her legs across the bed and stood. She still held the magazine which was now rolled up in her hand. "For God sakes Lex, you have the rest of your life to become a doctor, you're only seventeen once. If you aren't careful, you'll blink and realize life has passed you by. Anyway, I'll leave you to packing and I'm taking this." She waved the magazine. "Call me, text me, skype me, whatever, you know I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too, but if I want to get into med school..."
"Stop," Rachel held her hand up in objection. "I don't want to get you on the med school rant. Just remember to call me when you're not playing Doctor."
Alexa nodded.
"Bye," Rachel said. She stopped at the door and turned around. "Oh, and if Jake asks about you, I'll make sure to tell him you miss him too."
Heat flodded Alexa's face at the mention of his name. "You wouldn't dare."
"You'll never know." Rachel's tone was serious but she was grinning and Alexa knew at least this summer, her crush on Jake would remain a secret.
When she was done packing she headed downstairs. Her parents were both in the kitchen and without saying a word, Alexa took the dishes and began to fix the place settings with robotic like precision.
Her mother stopped stirring the food around in the pan. "Did you finish packing, sweetheart?"
"Yep," Alexa replied. "All done."
"Gabby can't wait for you to get there."
"I'm excited too, mom," Alexa said. "I love spending time with Aunt Gabby."
Her father made his way over to the table and sat down. "I'm glad to hear that Alexa. I think my sister is lonely since Martin died."
Her dad was right. Aunt Gabby missed Martin desperately. It was easy to tell because it was all but written on her face. Sometimes Alexa would catch her staring at his picture or gazing out the window. A few years ago, she threw herself into her work. She was a psychiatrist at a youth center. She helped people. She tried to understand them.
Gabby was young, exceptionally smart and beautiful and Alexa hoped to be just like her.
"Lincon," her mom spoke to her father. "Would you please say grace?"
Her father smiled, showing the crowsfeet that were usually hidden and looked at Alexa. "Grace," he said.
This drove her mother crazy and Alexa began to giggle. She'd miss her parents over summer.
By the time Sebastian had bailed him out and dropped him off, Sawyer was starving. The cheese sandwich and juicebox served to petty criminals didn't do much for him.
He and Lane shared an apartment for the last six months or so. It was bigger and nicer than anything he could've ever imagined living in. It was a penthouse; Sawyer's only requirement when shopping for a place. He liked feeling on top of the world and at least here, he could do that. It looked a lot flashier than it actually was mostly on account of Lane. Sawyer liked to believe it was due to Lane's exceptional taste and not his sexual orientation, but he wasn't so sure.
He unlocked the door and the smell that wafted through the air into his nostrils was intoxicating. Devin and Lane were in the kitchen. Devin was bright eyed while Lane, still clad in pajama pants looked like he could frolic with the sandman for a whole lot longer. The bags under his eyes were dark.
"You look how I feel," Sawyer said. "Dev, what are you doing here?"
Devin grinned and the hobbled from behind the counter, proudly displaying a boot made from neon pink cast. "It's broken!" She declared.
Lane rubbed his eyes. "I think the hospital gave her pain killers. She showed up a few hours ago saying she broke out of prison, which I reminded her was home and that if anyone were breaking out of prison it'd be you. I made her call her parents and she made me get up and start cooking. I'm pretty sure she's still feeling whatever they gave her."
Poor Lane. He was a princess and liked his sleep. Not that Sawyer himself was much different in that regard.
"Need a smoke," Sawyer muttered. He retrieved the pack from his pants pocket and slipped one into his mouth. "Fire?"
"There's matches under the ashtray outside," Lane answered. "Hurry up though. I want to go back to sleep and I think Devin on happy pills around a stove is trouble waiting to happen."
Sawyer gripped the smoke between his teeth and flashed a smile. "I thought you were makin' me breakfast."
"You're kidding yourself if you think it's by choice."
Devin crinkled her nose. "Lane's like an angry bee in the morning, huh?"
"That's just 'cause you got enough honey for all of us sugar," Sawyer said. He opened the balcony doors and stepped through, taking in the city from above.