Vicious Boys by Nora Cobb
Chapter Six
Silas
Every day when I wake up, I stare at the binders surrounding me. Two walls of my bedroom are covered with binders filled with information on every person I’ve ever met. One day, I’m going to get out of bed and burn the binders in the dumpster. But not yet.
I close my eyes and mentally check my body. It’s an old technique I learned from one of the established actors in a cheesy film. The film was a flop for them, but it got me noticed. I lie on my back, and slowly, I scan my body. Primarily, I do it to find any strained muscles. Acting is a physical job, even if you’re just walking across a set. You have to be aware of every gesture and the slightest nuance when you act your part.
I look at the binders again. I always stay aware of people in my surroundings; that’s why I’m still in demand.
The door chimes and I pull on a sweat jacket over my pajama pants. Rosemonde is coming over too much. She’s latched on tight and is determined not to let me slip away again. I wonder how she’ll act when she meets a real star. Sure, I still get gigs. I was blessed that when I grew up, I ended up good-looking and not a larger version of my ten-year-old self. It’s not vanity to take care of your looks when you’re in the public eye. It’s an investment.
I don’t bother to check the video screen and open the door wide. I freeze when I see Vicki on my doorstep. I don’t want to talk to her, not after what she did to me publicly. But I should have known the way Dom is. His father is the biggest slut on the West Coast, and Dom doesn’t know any better.
She doesn’t speak as she looks from side to side. She waits for me to ask her to come in. I shouldn’t, but she looks so frail. She always looks frail to me. She dresses tough and talks like a punk, but I see it in her eyes. Sure, she’s been dressing up lately. I’ve noticed the better clothing as she walks across campus with her chin held high, but I recognize a costume. I step aside and let her in.
Vicki must have just woken up because her hair is barely combed. I like it when it looks like that—tousled and sexy. I want to pull my fingers through it like I did that day on the beach. She also has on her sweats. I guess she sleeps in them. It’s funny how at ease she is today, considering our last conversation. She climbs out of bed and walks across the hall as if it’s all one big house and we live in different rooms. Vicki sits cross-legged on the far end of the couch. I sit in the leather chair opposite her.
“I’m here to apologize for everything that’s happened,” she says. “Well, recently. You’re right.” She looks directly into my eyes. “I made the wrong choice.”
I don’t say anything. She did make the wrong choice, but I want to know what caused her to realize that.
“We have more in common.” She motions between us, pointing to me and then herself. “We were both robbed of a childhood. I can talk to you about things.”
“Like legal things?” I ask.
For a moment, she watches me, then looks away. Her gaze lands on the painting of an elk in a gilded frame that reaches the ceiling. It’s a weird piece of memorabilia from when I costarred in a family-friendly Halloween film with a well-known comic. It flopped, but I liked the whimsical painting. I cringe whenever they show the movie on cable. So, I have Netflix instead.
“You’re not going to put that in the column, are you?” Her voice has a nasty edge to it. Her gaze digs hard into me, daring me to say I will. But I won’t. It’s too close to home, but it’s not her business.
I shake my head. “I’m not interested in it or anything to do with you now.”
Her eyes widen. Surely she can’t think groveling is going to be easy?
“I guess I deserve that,” she replies, “but that picture of me high? That wasn’t my fault.”
She hangs her head and looks small and broken. I don’t want to sit across the room from Vicki. I want to sit next to her and pull her into my arms. I want to lower my guard and tell her why I know that a conservatorship is a rotten thing to have done to you. I want someone I can talk to about all the shit I did and have them not be disgusted or reject me for it. Have them understand why I couldn’t say no. I want someone who has seen things that no ordinary person could visualize. I want to talk to her about my own pain.
“I’ve been fucking up since the day I walked on campus,” she explains, “I shouldn’t have run against you for student council. Or gotten involved with Dom. Or started smoking again.” She eyes me, and the suspicion is in her gaze. “But I don’t have the life other people have, so it’s hard for me to know what to do. It’s like being dumped in the South Pole with a bikini and a grill. You think you know what to do even though you’re freezing to death.” She crosses her arms around herself. “You get it, but who else will? That’s why I know I fucked up.”
I sigh deeply when I hear those words. I should choose Rosemonde. She’s presentable, and hungry for success. She’ll keep my career going even after I should have slunk off into oblivion. I’ll be invited to every convention and reunion show until I expire in my wheelchair. I wipe my hand over my sweaty forehead.
But the fucked-up truth is: I don’t want that life.
“So,” I ask, “if you were me, how would you make it better?”
Vicki shifts her position, and her sweat jacket slips off her shoulder. She’s deliciously pale wherever her clothes cover her skin.
I know she’s self-conscious about the marks that have faded on her skin, but I don’t see that when I look at her. I see someone wild that will always be a challenge and keep my life from being dull. Keep me from seeking out distractions. Rosemonde can never do that for me.
“I know things.” Her eyes look toward the hallway leading to my bedroom door. “I saw things that you’d probably want to know.”
It isn’t what I was expecting, and I’m disappointed. I thought she would plead and beg and use her body in incredible ways. The way that body curved in my hands as I held her in the waves and pressed my mouth against her soft skin. I had hoped she would offer it to me again.
Like a good actor, I tamp my lust down. “What do you know?” I ask.
“I can’t reveal it all,” she says, “Unless you can keep a secret.”
Dom could never keep a secret, but I can. That’s why there are so many binders.
She takes a deep breath. “I was drugged by Dom’s father at his house. Luna didn’t drink her wine. I drank mine. His uncle was there, the biker. He passed Mel a package before it happened. But I don’t know if that was what ended up in my drink.” She pauses for a second and picks at her fingernail. “Nothing happened because Luna hesitated. If she hadn’t, his father would have raped us, and God knows who else would’ve had a turn.”
She stares at me, and I know something is wrong as her eyes widen. “Silas?”
My forehead is drenched with sweat, and my hand shakes when I hold it up. I grab onto the arm of the chair and pull my body forward in the seat. I hang my head down, trying to stop the spinning in my ears. I’ve heard that story before. I knew what she was going to say before she said it.
Vicki jumps up, and I flinch when she places a hand on my back. She steps away, but I can see her feet. She doesn’t leave my side. “I just don’t want to be touched. Not now,” I tell her, “I’ll be okay when it passes.”
“What can I do?” she asks, and then waits for my permission to touch me.
I reach my hand toward her, and Vicki helps me up. I try not to, but I lean my full weight on her as she tries to hold me up. I breathe in deeply. And will myself to focus on the present, not the past.
“Maybe you should lie down,” she says gently. She guides me down the hall to my bedroom. My heart stops racing as I take heavy steps toward the open door. I’m surprised by her strength. Vicki is able to gently guide me as I hold her hand tightly. It’s rare that someone protects me.
I sit heavily down on the bed and lean back, so my legs are hanging off the edge and my head is leaning against the wall. Vicki is beside me but doesn’t say a word. We lie next to each other in silence, staring at the ceiling.
“Are you okay?” she whispers.
“I’ll be okay.” I nod my head a little. “I just need to ground myself, as Jagan would say.”
She laughs softly. “Breathe in that prana, baby.”
I laugh. “You know some of that stuff works.”
She smiles. “I know. He’s smarter than he wants us to know.”
My voice becomes stronger as my stomach settles. “Jagan is a damn brilliant actor. This is his biggest role.”
She turns her head to look at me. “Did you ever work with him?”
“Nope, not until I came to Redwood.”
She laughs, and it makes the bad feeling pass, but unfortunately it will come back. Hopefully, it won’t be as visceral someday. If Vicki knew what I’ve done, would she talk to me? I might be the one asking for a second chance if only she knew.
The door across the hall opens, attracting our attention. This suite is set up so both bedrooms are on the same hallway. I usually keep my bedroom door shut. I’m not that into Rhys seeing what I’m doing when I want to be alone. I frown, knowing he’s going to say something when he sees Vicki sitting on my bed. I squint my eyes and focus hard when I see Theo coming out of Rhys’ bedroom. He looks at me, wide-eyed. They must not have known I was awake. Rhys slips out, and of course, his eyes go to Vicki. I glance over at her, and she’s busy gawking at Theo, who, judging by his wild hair, spent the night.
This is stupid and doesn’t have to be awkward. “Good morning,” I call out, acknowledging the discomfort. “How’d you sleep?”
Rhys and Theo exchange a look that makes me grin because I am a jerk. I want to tell them it’s okay that they got caught. I’m not interested in telling them what to do anymore.
Vicki slips off the bed and walks to the door to speak to Theo. I pull myself up into a seated position, hoping she’ll come back. “Are you heading home?” she asks.
Theo glances over toward Rhys, but Rhys, being a douche, turns his back and heads down the hall to the shared bathroom.
“Yeah,” he tells her, “I’m heading home.”
“Come by my place first.” She turns back toward me. “Let me know if you want to talk later.”
I nod. “I probably will.”
