Page 6 of Reclaim

“Do I know you?” My eyes do a quick scan of the room, wondering if she’s here with some friends or alone.

“No, I’m only here for the weekend. I’m staying with my cousin.”

“Who’s your cousin?”

“Oh you probably don’t know him. His name is Jay.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as soon as she says his name. Jay and I have a long history of hating each other. I can’t remember when it started or how, but as we got older it went from small time to dangerous, and she. Is. Dangerous.

“Is he cool with you being out tonight?”

“He’s not my dad,” she quips. “I can do what I want.”

“I’m guessing he’s how you knew who I was?”

“It’s hard not to know who you are. Jay’s got a lot of hate for you.” She smirks, as she delivers the unfiltered truth, and the challenge becomes painstakingly obvious. My body rises to the bait as I stand, coming face to face with Little Miss Sunshine turned Little Miss Dangerous. Pissing Jay off is a good enough reason to see where this goes, but an opportunity to take the edge off before I sell my soul to the devil is even better.

“You want a drink?” I ask. Reaching for the beer in my hand, she raises the bottle to her lips. Seductively she tilts her head back, elongating the length of her neck, swallowing every remaining drop.

“I’m good for now, thanks.” Licking her lips, she hands me the empty bottle and smiles. “Want to get out of here for a while?”

Without a word I grab her hand, linking my fingers through hers. Pushing through the bodies I lead us to the back door of the house. Just as I kick open the flyscreen, I hear Hendrix call my name. Ignoring him, we walk out onto the back porch, dousing ourselves in fresh air.

“Jagger,” he calls out again.

“Can you give me a second?”

She nods, her eyes moving past me to see all the commotion.

Hendrix storms outside, anger written all over his face. “What about Sasha?” he seethes, looking at Jay’s cousin with disgust, even though the question is directed at me.

“What about her?”

“She’s going to be pissed.”

“And how is that my fault?”

“You can’t just forget about your responsibilities to her.”

I push him back up to the house, my fists clutching his shirt. “Is that what I’m doing here tonight, is it? Forgetting about my fucking responsibilities?”

He shoves my hands off of him and puffs his chest up challengingly. Sizing me up, we stand toe to toe, one breath away from exploding. Our strength is easily matched, but my temper can beat his any day, and right now I see nothing but rage.

His shoulders slump--his ability to empathise is his saving grace, another obvious difference between him and me. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant,” I spit, “but she needs to stop brainwashing you with that shit.”

“It’s not just her—”

“I know.” I hang my head in shame, as my mother’s words ring in my ears.

“But I’m not him, Drix. I’m taking care of my daughter, and I don’t need to play house with Sasha to do that.”

“Are you there?”he asks.

“Yeah, bro. I’m here.”

“Fuck. I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

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