Echoes & Ink: Raven by Emily Rose
Chapter Eleven
RAVEN
Ilook at the city skyline below, sipping on the drink in my hand. Tonight’s an alcohol kind of night, and even though I kind of hate this place now, there’s no doubt it has a fantastic view. The city lights glitter and glow, and the sound of the city echoes around me. I should be happy to be sitting here right now, but instead I want to scream, rage, and let out the pain that’s swirling around inside me.
Today started out so great and ended in utter shit.
By the time everyone came back into the apartment, I composed myself and carried on with unpacking. I answered truthfully when everyone asked me about the social worker, but I purposely left out the part about Sloan and his fucking background check, and his fake boyfriend ruse. I merely stated that he was there as proof that the apartment was legit.
Thankfully, everyone left it at that, and got back to work like nothing happened. Though I’m pretty sure Rose knew something was up from the side glances she gave me every so often. She didn’t push, but the excitement I felt at moving in here was obviously gone. Even now, hours later, it’s not back.
This whole apartment feels tainted. Like the memories from my past are slinking around the edges, just waiting to strike. Why did Sloan have to go and prove how much of an asshole he is? I thought by now every member of the Lincoln family would trust me. At least enough to let me reveal my secrets at the time and place of my choosing. Apparently when it comes to Sloan, I’m very wrong.
He says he didn’t look at the file, but I don’t know whether I can trust those words. A man like Sloan wouldn’t leave shit like that lying in the bottom of a desk drawer. It would taunt him too damn much. Depending on how deep of a check he had done, it’s either going to reveal exactly what happened to me, or skim over it. It’s probably too much to hope it’s the latter.
Will it show just how poor I was? The fact that I grew up with junkie and alcoholic parents that preferred a good time with drugs and alcohol than taking care of their child? A child that went hungry more often than not? Who was homeless for a time because those parents drug her out on the streets with them when they were evicted from their apartment?
Or maybe it’ll show that my social worker did fuck all to help me. Even when the teachers told her about my dirty, stinky clothes, and the fact that I never had any food. The one time they did anything, I was ten and they sent me to live with Uncle Nero, which was just as fucking bad.
I don’t even want to think about whether the report will include the absolute fucking worst years. Those memories make me want to simultaneously cry and throw up. They’re always there though, always trying to push through and remind me of what kind of person I am. Remind me of the shame that’s eaten at me for the past fourteen years; the utter devastation that makes me want to curl in a ball and hide from the world.
Fucking Sloan. If he just left well enough alone, I can force myself to forget it. Instead, it’s like he took a sledgehammer to the walls I erected, and I can’t build them back fast enough to keep it all from falling to pieces.
It’s bad enough that bitch, Ms. Liscumb, can throw my past in my face. I can tell that if she wouldn’t lose her job, she would love to share my history with anyone she could. Especially Falcon. She’ll try to convince him I’m a bad bet and he’s better off without me.
It’s been less than a week and already that kid is a fixture in my life. I don’t know if it’s a familial bond that’s making me work so hard. Or guilt at the fact that I didn’t know about him and couldn’t help. Does that make me as bad as our parents? Did they tell him anything about why I left?
Nah. They were too stoned out of their minds to even care.
Falcon was ecstatic when he walked into the apartment after school, and it is the one bright spot in my crappy afternoon. His hands had been moving with signs that I didn’t understand, but I got enough of a gist to know he is excited. When he saw he had his own room and bathroom, his entire face glowed. The MC guys had been pleased as punch and offered to help him find some cool shit to put up on his walls.
None of them acted like writing everything down was a pain in the ass. They happily did it. I even heard a few of them mention that they wanted to join in on the ASL classes.
I don’t know what I did to deserve all these people in my life, but I know that between the MC, the guys from the shop, and my friends, they’re the reason for me being able to function and get to this point. Even though they will all probably run screaming if they knew anything about my past.
Okay, maybe not, but they’ll all look at me different, and I don’t want that shit. I don’t want pity, or some lame attempt to make me feel better. It happened and there’s nothing any of us can do to change it.
I blow out a breath. Fucking Sloan. He’s the one making me go around in circles tonight. Asshole better not show up at the shop for a while, or I’m liable to find my biggest needle and make him feel enough pain that he’ll be out of commission for months. Maybe years.
My phone buzzes and I grab it. When I see who it is, it takes everything in me to not throw my phone.
Sloan: Hey. I stole your number from Ash under the guise of telling you something about the apartment. I know you’re pissed at me, and you have every right to be, but I need to talk to you.
I stare at the message for a minute. I should just ignore it and say fuck him, but something stops me. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but the anger inside me roars to life again and I find myself angrily texting back.
Me: What is there to talk about? You’re a pompous asshole. Simple.
His text back is almost immediate. Huh, he must have been watching for my text.
Sloan: Please Raven? I need to talk to you.
Me: Then talk.
Sloan: No. I’m not talking to a screen. I’ll be over in ten minutes.
He wants to come here? God, he has some serious balls. Especially when I’m still thinking about stabbing him.
Me: You really want to test me right now?
Sloan: I’ll risk it. I’ll be there shortly.
Why the hell am I not telling him no? That I don’t want him here to fuck with my already bad mood?
Standing, I walk back inside, shutting the balcony door softly behind me. I go to the sink and pour out my drink. There’s no way that I’m going to deal with Sloan Lincoln while inebriated. Especially not if I don’t want to spill more than I should.
I glance down at myself and figure that I’m dressed enough to not worry about changing. I’m wearing a Wonder Woman sleep shirt that hits me mid-thigh, and a pair of plain black sleep shorts underneath.
When I hear the knock on the door I blow out a breath. Here goes nothing.
I open the door and see Sloan standing there, wearing a pair of gray sweats and a simple black t-shirt that molds to his shoulders and chest like a second skin. Heat unfurls in my belly and I have to force myself to ignore it.
He looks at me with those arctic eyes and says, “Hey.”
“Hey,” I answer, stepping back and letting him in, despite everything in me screaming to slam the door in his face. I shut the door and move around him to lean against the island, putting a good amount of space between us. “Talk,” I order, not seeing any point in letting this fade into awkward silence. The sooner he talks, the sooner he can leave.
He regards me for a moment, and then he heaves out a heavy sigh. “Look, we both know I’m an asshole,” he starts.
I snort. “Understatement of the year.”.
“Yes, well, I doubt that will change anytime soon,” he retorts sarcastically. “I was just trying to help with the social worker when I told her about you and I being in a relationship,” he says, frustration leaking into his voice. “I wasn’t trying to ride in and save you.”
“Yes you were,” I interrupt.
“Not intentionally.”
I hold up my hand. “That’s not the problem right now. I’ll say thank you for stepping in. That bitch has a hard on for me the size of the state and she’ll use whatever she can to take Falcon out of here and put him in a group home. You stepping in was enough to have her holding off, and I can work with that until the next time. My problem,” I say as my tone turns icy, “is you thinking it’s okay to dig into my private life without permission. Had you asked me, I could have saved us all the trouble and found another place.”
“What is it about your past that you’re so worried about me finding out?” he asks bluntly. “If it’s that bad, then I should know if it’s going to cause problems.”
Everything in me shuts down at his words. “If you’re so worried about it, then I’ll find another place to live,” I answer stiffly. “You can rent this place out to someone that you trust, or the next damsel in distress that you want to ride in on your white horse to save.”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” he snarls, running a hand through his hair roughly in frustration. “I’m not trying to make it seem like you can’t stay here. I’m just trying to understand why the thought of a background check scares you so damn much. I’m a fixer, and I don’t like knowing that there’s something I can’t fix.”
“Oh yes, I’m quite aware of that,” I scoff. “Saint Sloan to the rescue. Well, sorry to tell you, big guy, you can’t save me. You can’t save me from my past any more than I can.”
“But you don’t have to deal with it alone if someone is willing to help,” he says quietly, watching me intently. “You just got thrown a giant curveball with Falcon showing up, but you’re dealing with it. Have you told the girls about your past?”
“No. They don’t need to know my problems.”
“What if they want to?” he asks pointedly. “Do you think it’s going to change the way everyone looks at you or treats you?” I remain silent. Of course it will. Sloan sighs. “Raven, I’m not your enemy. I’ll apologize for breaking your trust and asking for the background check, but I won’t apologize for trying to help you. For helping with a difficult situation. That’s who I am and what I do. Will it help you to know that Bob read me the riot act after we left? Called me every inventive name in the book for doing that to you?”
I smirk internally at the thought of the Irishman tearing a strip off him. “Might,” I say noncommittally.
Sloan gives me a knowing smirk and says, “Raven, I don’t want this to affect our friendship. I really don’t want you and I to be at odds over my screw-up.”
“You don’t want me to kick you in the balls and tell your sister,” I correct.
“That too,” he admits without a single ounce of shame.
“What did you do with the report?” I ask him curiously.
“I never actually got the file from the PI that we use for this,” he answers honestly, “and I told him I don’t want it, so he’ll destroy it. I promise I didn’t read it, Raven, and I didn’t ask for a verbal report either.”
I stare at him, holding his gaze with mine. I search the depth of his eyes, and I see nothing but sincerity there. My gut is telling me to believe him, but I’m not one to just blindly forgive and forget. I can forgive, but I never forget.
“Alright,” I say with a slow nod. “I’ll believe that for now, Sloan, but you do anything like that shit again, and what Ash would do to you when she found out, would be child’s play compared to me. Do we understand each other?”
He nods. “So what do you want to do about the social worker situation?” he asks.
“What about it? It’s been handled.”
He shakes his head. “I meant about the whole you and me being a couple to keep the social worker off your back thing.”
I shake my head back. Really, he thinks we’re going to keep going with that charade? “I’ll just tell her we broke up the next time she’s here and it’ll be fine.”
“Don’t you think that’s a bit suspicious? We’re together and then she shows up the next time and we’re not?”
“Bob told her that our relationship has nothing to do with the apartment. Besides, I can always just tell her you decided that you didn’t want to deal with me, my problems, and a kid. That you prefer to be footloose and fancy free, as they say.”
“Sure, make me sound like a total asshole,” he mumbles.
“Wouldn’t be out of character then.”
He narrows his eyes at me slightly, but I just cross my arms over my chest and hold his gaze. “Fine,” he grumbles, “more of an asshole than I already am. Look, I really think to make this believable, we should at least pretend for a little longer until she’s good and convinced. Then we can call it good and go our separate ways.”
The man is seriously taking his hero complex to the extreme. “Sloan, I really don’t think we need to go to that extent. She’s not going to care. She barely remembers Falcon’s name, let alone yours.”
“And if she does and asks the next time she’s here? Or if she asks Falcon?”
I pause. I hadn’t really thought about Falcon in all of this. Yeah, I’ll have to talk to him and let him in on the ruse. I’m sure he’ll be fine with it. If he’s anything like me, a little white lie is nothing. “Falcon will go along with whatever I tell him, and him agreeing that we’re not together anymore is easier than him answering questions about the two of us together. He’s never even met you.”
Sloan doesn’t look the least bit convinced. “Or we don’t make him lie and just pretend we are. Then we do a break-up when it’s all over.”
Seriously, the man is pushing this a little hard for my liking. “Why are you pushing this, Sloan?” I ask him bluntly. “What’s your angle here?”