Things We Lost - 8. Chapter 8

I awoke with water being splashed on my face. Coughing, I fought to sit up and winced at the ache from the back of my head. I smelled river water and felt the coarse sand and scrub grass under me that marked the general area where my old hideout had been. I lifted my head and made to stand up.

“That's far enough,” Buster said, and the sound of a gun being racked filled my ears.

I settled back on my knees, using my feet as a cushion. Looking around, I saw Buster, Lenny, and two others I didn't recognize. One, clearly in charge by his body language, was smoking slowly and studying me.

“So. This is the cause of your trouble, Buster?”

“He's a real pain in the ass, Carson,” he affirmed. “Got lucky catching him today. Had a guy over in the east side, just driving around. Saw him at some house there. Nice family. They had a daughter and son. He was watching the place, figuring out how to bag this guy and maybe get some shit from the house if he timed it right. He almost bugged out when the county people showed up, but they figured out our boy here had run. He only had so many places to go, you know?”

Carson didn't comment, simply took another slow drag on his cigarette.

“You know, Carson, I don't know who he talked to or what he said while he was gone. Maybe, you know, after you put his ass on the street we should snatch up those other people too? Make sure they don't talk and make some bank on the side?” Buster shifted on his feet and glanced at his boss. “My guy said the kids both looked good, could come out ahead on this deal.”

“Leave them alone!” I yelled and started to rise. Buster took aim and I faltered, sliding back down to my knees and beginning to cry, helplessly. They would be hurt and it was my fault. I squashed the tears and tried to settle my mind, to find some miracle out of this mess. The problem was I had no cover and this close, even Buster couldn't miss. Despair gripped me and my shoulders slumped in defeat.

Carson lifted the cigarette to his lips and inhaled again, languorously. He took a few steps, pacing really, as he turned over the situation in his head.

“What do you think, boss?” Buster asked, unable to remain silent. Carson glanced at him and walked over to me and squatted down; blew smoke in my face.

“I could make some bank off your ass, you know,” he said in a matter of fact tone. “You're young and your hair makes you kind of exotic. I have guys that would pay.”

“Don't want to whore for you,” I said sullenly.

“Oh, not now, no,” he agreed. “But, after we give you a taste of Hell Dust, which is our brand of heroin...you'll do anything to get your next hit.”

I thought of my parents, passed out on the couch or floor—whatever was closest. I shuddered, thinking of the woman that had choked on her own vomit on the kitchen floor. I closed my eyes. Not me, not ever.

“I'd rather die.”

“Well, a lot of them say that at first,” he conceded, still keeping his tone even. “But they come around. Real question is, what about this family Buster is talking about? How much do they know?”

“Nothing!” I spat. “Leave them alone!”

Carson nodded and stood up, still at his ease. “I thought so.”

“Please...wait,” I said, hardly recognizing my own voice. “Leave them alone and I'll go.”

“You say that like there is a choice,” Carson said softly, his voice oozing danger.

“I won't fight it. Guys like it better if people are actually awake for them to...fuck,” I said, defeated.

Carson was silent for a moment, yet I kept my head down. Finally he said, “You have a point.”

“You want I should smoke the parents and pick the kids up, boss?” Buster asked. Carson didn't reply. He took his time walking away from me, then blew out a final plume of smoke before dropping the butt and pressing it into the sand with his foot.

Lifting my head, I watched as Carson coolly looked around, surveying the area, and moving out of Buster's line of sight. I barked out a laugh, something I didn't recognize with a hysterical edge to it. The morning sun was bright and I was able to clearly see Buster's unease.

“What are you laughing at, pole smoker?”

I shook my head. “You, you stupid bastard. You just became a liability.”

“The hell you say?”

Buster froze as Carson placed the muzzle of his gun against the side of Buster's neck. “He's right, Buster. Hell if the kid isn't smart.”

“Boss...” Buster mumbled, his nerves making his hand shake as he tried to keep his gun aimed at me. “Boss, I can clean this up.”

“No. No you can't, Buster,” he said, in that same even tone. “You were dipping on the side, drew some attention. I thought we could work through it, if we caught the kid here in time. Hell, I thought I might even come out ahead if I could shut him up and get some fresh meat out there. But, no. He got away from you two idiots.”

I glanced at Lenny, who was standing still with his eyes closed and his lips moving silently. The cause of his concern was the other man, who I didn't know, whose gun was pressed into the back of Lenny's head.

“If you're going to shoot, make sure it's in the middle of the head or you might miss the brain,” I said, my voice filled with raw nerves. “Lot of empty space up there.”

Carson smiled at me, thin lipped and without humor. “Kid's right, Buster.”

The early morning was suddenly filled with thunder as the guns went off and Lenny fell to the ground just feet away from Buster. Blood spattered all over the sand and birds, startled, took flight. Buster had collapsed in front of me and, like the miracle I'd been hoping for, his gun was within reach. I snatched it, but froze at the sound of Carson clearing his throat. I looked up into Carson's face, impassive as granite, and down the barrel of his gun.

“If it's any consolation, kid, those kids will be safe. No one can tie me to Buster or his crap, so that makes you the only loose end left.” He snorted and glanced down at Buster, “Taking people out of their homes is no way to stay under the radar so...that family wasn't really in danger, you know.”

“Makes sense,” I said, my voice shaking.

“Too bad, really. You're a smart kid. Probably worth more for your brain than your ass.”

I nodded slowly, and let out a shuddering breath. So, this was it. My story was over. At least Tris would be okay. I put my head down, closed my eyes and waited.

“Police! Put down your weapons! Down, down, down!”

I looked up in shock as two police officers approached, guns drawn. Carson's henchman turned and raised his weapon, only to be shot twice—one from each officer. Carson, no fool, dropped his gun and laced his fingers behind his head. That may have also had to do with the other pair of officers who appeared from the lee of the building, guns up and ready to fire.

Cuffs were applied to Carson and an officer spoke into a microphone on his shoulder, “Clear. One in custody, one clean shoot. Three bodies down. Send a bus forthwith and the coroner's wagon.”

An affirmative crackled through his radio and he approached me with his gun pointed down, but both hands still ready top bring it up and make a steady shot.

“Ehren Robertson?” the officer asked.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice a croak.

“You want to let go of that gun, son?” the officer asked gently.

I glanced down, surprised to see I still held Buster's gun. I tossed it aside and rubbed my hands on my thighs.

“You had some folks worried about you,” the cop said as he holstered his weapon and walked across the sand to me. I looked up as he, it seemed, towered over me and held his hand out.. I hesitated and then reached for his hand and allowed him to pull me up.

Amid the crackle of police radios and the bustle of the officers securing the scene, I stood on shaky legs. The officer guided me away from the bodies and, as we emerged around the building, Tris and Piper yelled my name. Glancing up I saw them both running from the street where squad cars were parked, along with their parents who stood by their vehicle. My knees felt like jelly, but I had no fear of falling—I was in Tristan's grip and couldn't have fallen had I wanted to.

“You stupid, stupid...beautiful...” Tristan stopped speaking and then looked me over for damage. “Are you all right? I was worried sick!”

“I'm...okay,” I replied.

He grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me.

I knew, in that kiss and in that embrace, I would be okay. I had made the right decision to risk it all.

I had very few a memories of my mother, but one in particular stuck out and came to me in that moment. It was one of her more lucid moments, where she described life as she saw it. We were in our living room and my mother was smoking on the couch, ash trailing whenever she moved her hand.

“Life is about loss, Ehren,” she'd said. “When we take pictures and put them in albums, those moments are over. They are the things we lost. We try to make more times like that, but people, things...time...it all gets lost in the end.”

I had a lot of things I'd lost, but I realized she was wrong. Those things weren't lost. I knew, as Tris kissed me again, that lost things could be found again, and again. I intended to discover and rediscover many things with Tris.

A great many things.

Epilogue

“You look very nice,” Beth said as I slipped a backpack over my shoulders.

“Thanks,” I replied, and blushing a bit. I wasn't used to the compliments and had a hard time accepting them. But Beth didn't give up easily.

A horn honked outside and Emily pulled her face away from the window. “Your ride is here. Have a great day, sweetie,” she said and gave me a quick hug and a peck, followed by Beth imitating her. Okay, I was definitely blushing now.

“Bye,” I said softly and bounded down the stairs.

I headed down the back stairs and through the bookstore. Once through, I turned and locked the door with the key I'd been given, which I then slipped over my head and let it dangle around my neck by its chain. I turned and climbed into the waiting car, Piper driving and May in the passenger seat and Tris waiting for me in back. We shared a quick kiss and then sat side by side, holding hands.

“You two are adorable,” May said and held her phone up. “Come on, first day picture! Lean in!”

I glanced at Tris, who was smiling and showing off his dimples, and I shrugged. We leaned in cheek to cheek and May squealed about how cute it was.

We headed to school and, as we did, I thought again about my mother's statement about the things we've lost. As it happened, in the aftermath of the shooting, a great many things that had been lost, if only to time or mystery, became clear. I had, indeed, lost my parents for the final time in that fire. I say final because, really, they'd been lost to me as people for a much longer time.

Just when I'd thought I'd lost my life, but taking solace that my death would save Tris and the Malones...that miracle happened. Turns out Tris wasn't ready for my life to be lost. In speaking to the police they'd been nearby and had found the body of Smokey, because I'd told Tris where I'd used to live. By nothing more than dumb luck, the police had been there—just a few doors down, actually—when Carson and his other goon had killed Buster and Lenny.

Things had been a real flurry of bullshit since then. Turns out my old social worker was still on the job—and still getting meth. It also happens that he wasn't so much of a customer as a retail entrepreneur, and he had enough in his car—a county vehicle, so they didn't even need a warrant to search it—to win himself a nice cell. Seems that he was using his time in the field to sell his wares.

Beth's uncle was a big help, and by the end of that day, I was in Beth and Emily's custody. Then there came school placement tests and shopping for school supplies and Tris was with me every step. No one was surprised that my reading and reading comprehension were above grade level, but my math was another story. Tris immediately introduced me to online help and sat down to tutor me. I wish I could say that it was just an excuse to hang out, but he was actually serious about getting me to learn.

I had a lot of school to catch up on but, I felt like I could do it with Tris there. More, I felt like I wanted to.

As we climbed out of the car, I took off my hoodie and held my hand out. “Can I have your hoodie? I'll trade you.”

He grinned and pulled his hoodie off and we swapped. Piper and May headed off to the building, but Tris held me back with just a touch on my arm. He smiled, his lips moving off to one side.

“You look adorable.”

I blushed and looked away from him. “You look really nice, too,” I said softly.

“Look, Ehr,” he said, taking my hands in his. He waited until I brought my gaze back to meet his and he smiled at me until I returned it, complete with heat burning through my face. “I know you hate feeling like you need anything or anyone—”

“I need you,” I blurted, and the heat of embarrassment traveled down my neck and across my chest.

He smiled wider and leaned in. “I need you, too. But listen,” he said, and wet his lips. “We have schedules and I can't be with you all the time, even though I want to be. This is a different set of rules than you're used to, but it's really important, okay?”

“I'm not sure what you're trying to say.”

“I'm saying,” he said, shaking my hands, “that this is going to be a challenge for you, for us. I'll be worried about you all day. I just...” He leaned forward and our foreheads touched and our gazes locked.

“I just want you to remember I'm here for you. No matter what anyone else says or does, I'm here for you. We need to get through school together. Can you do that?”

The corner of my mouth pulled up. “You're the only reason I'm here, Tris. The only reason I'm doing any of this is for you.”

“And that's a great start,” he said, leaning back but still holding my hands. “But school is for you, too. You and I? This is a partnership. We have a life to build together and we have to do that as equals. We have college to think about and then jobs—don't look at me like that!”

My eyes had gone wide and I'd started to shake my head. “Tris, I can't go to college!”

“Yes! Yes you can!” he said, his own eyes widening. “You will, too.”

Rather than responding right away, I leaned in and pecked his lips and then pulled him close. Holding him, my nerves began to settle. College, was he out of his pretty head? He had such confidence in me, such plans for us...

“Tris,” I said, speaking into his ear. “When Beth and Emily said they wanted to give me a home, but I'd have to deal with CPS and the police and all that...I said yes because of you. I've already put everything—trust, love, you name it—into you. Whatever you want, I'll do my best.”

“So...you're mine? Is that what you're saying?” he said, his voice teasing.

“Yeah. I'm yours.”

He pulled back and, with moisture in his eyes, made a series of pats on my shoulders and my chest before kissing me and exclaiming, “Jesus, what you do to me!”

I gave him a look of curiosity.

“Okay. If I don't stop, we'll never get to class. See you here after school, okay?” he said. I nodded before we traded parting shots of 'I love you'.

I headed to my first class, Tris's scent in my nose, ready for anything. Following my map I walked into my first classroom, and was immediately greeted. Sort of.

“Shit. You?” Brandon asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Shut your cake hole, Brandon.”

“That's what I get for saving you a seat!” he snorted. I glanced down and saw that he had, indeed, saved me a chair.

“Why would you want me sitting next to you?” I asked in suspicion.

He looked up and, I swear for a moment, he looked hurt. It was gone a second later and he sneered, “I have to make sure you don't cheat on Tris, of course.”

He held my gaze, but he was uncertain, now. Thinking of a previous conversation about Brandon, it occurred to me that, maybe, he actually was afraid I was going to take his friend—his only friend—away from him. I sat down next to him and leaned over by him.

“I'm going to kiss him in front of you. A lot.”

His lip twitched. “You guys want to go to the movies this Friday? Melody wants to see some lame chick flick.”

“If you buy the popcorn.”

He gave me an appraising look and I merely raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. But I'm not buying your soda, you can just go fuck yourself on that.”

Yes, I could handle anything, even Brandon.

The End