Snowflakes & Fire Escapes (6 page)

“You’re everything I got that means something. I know you hate all these rules, but you’re only sixteen …”

“And three quarters.”

“And three quarters,” he agreed, “but it’s still not seventeen, and certainly not eighteen. It’s my job to keep you safe, so that’s what I do.”

I heard it all before. My lack of friends, my not being allowed to go anywhere that isn’t pre-approved … it was for the best, he claimed.
You don’t need all that anyway
. But that was easy for him to say. Let him shove his feet in those ugly Mary Janes and walk a mile in the shoes of the girl he wanted me to be, and then let him come tell me she didn’t need anything else.

“I want you to listen to me, and listen to me
good
,” he said, a stern edge to his voice when I didn’t respond to his declaration. “I’ll do anything I have to …
anything
… to keep you out of trouble. And you aren’t always going to like it, but it’s not my job to cater to you. I gave you life. My only job is to make sure you stay living.”

“Living,” I muttered. “I think we define that differently.”

“You’re still breathing, aren’t you? Still got enough breath in those lungs to complain, don’t you? Then I’d say you’re doing a lot more
living
than some others I know. These kids running the streets after dark, raising hell, smoking pot and hanging out on the corner, fighting and fucking off … they’re not living, Grace. Those kids are just slowly dying. It’s only a matter of time.”

He was talking about Cody. He didn’t have to use his name to get his point across. I continue to pick at my food, wishing he would finish, but no … Connor Callaghan was just getting started.

“That boy’s a troublemaker,” he said. “That’s all he is.”

My response was immediate. “So are you.”

My father may not have been as notorious as Cormac, but he made quite a name for himself. He may have shielded me from most of what he did, but he couldn’t hide the whole truth from me—not and still keep me safe.

“I do what I do for you, Grace. I’m not saying I’m perfect, but I look out for you. Boys like him … they’ll only bring you trouble. Even his father will tell you that. He’s no good.”

But he was, I thought.

He was good.

My father just couldn’t see it.

He looked at Cody and saw a younger version of Cormac.

He looked at him and saw
himself
.

But Cody wasn’t like his father, nor was he anything like mine, and nobody would ever convince me otherwise.

Throughout the rest of dinner, after paying the check, and on the entire drive home, my father went through it again, trying to pound it into my head that he knew what was best for me, and what was best for me wasn’t anything I wanted. He had us dropped off down the block from the apartment building, and I grabbed my school bag, keeping my head down as we headed for home.

We were two buildings away when I heard the familiar voice. I looked up, catching sight of Cody across the street, hanging out with the same boys he usually hung with. He was talking to them but his eyes followed me. He saw me looking and brought his hand to his mouth, subtly kissing two of his fingertips before motioning my way.

My cheeks flushed at the acknowledgement.

Cody’s eyes turned to my father then. He stared at him for a moment before turning away.

When we reached the apartment building, my father opened the door, but he didn’t follow me inside. “Go upstairs. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He waited for me to listen before he walked away. I scaled the stairs faster than I’d ever taken them before, fumbling with the locks and rushing into the apartment, dropping my bag right inside the door. I ran over to the window, my heart racing when I looked out.

My father was already across the street, standing right in front of Cody.

His friends scattered. I wondered if my father scared them away. But Cody … Cody didn’t look intimidated in the least. He stood there, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, shoulders relaxed, staring up at my father as he towered over him. It wasn’t that Connor Callaghan was a big man, per se. It was just the way he carried himself, like he was invincible.

My father was talking. I didn’t know what he was saying, but his lips were moving, and that alone was bad enough. Cody hadn’t uttered a single word that I saw, merely staring at the man as he went on and on.

After a moment, Cody shook his head.

That was it.

Just a shake of the head to set my father off.

Anger clouded his expression as he took a step forward, going toe-to-toe, pointing his finger right in Cody’s face as he screamed so loudly I could faintly hear his voice up on the fifth floor with the window closed. Cody tolerated the berating for a moment before taking a step back, and another, and another, before he paused to finally speak.

It was just a few words before he turned around and strolled away, leaving my father standing there on the sidewalk alone, fuming.

I stepped away from the window when my father started toward the building again. Grabbing my school bag, I plopped down on the couch to do my homework, but I was too wound tight to focus.

I looked up when my father came in, slamming doors and throwing things. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Go to your bedroom, Grace.”

I obliged right away.

The man barely made a sound after that. Curiosity ate at me as time passed, one hour turning into the next, before there was a soft tapping on my bedroom door. It opened before I could acknowledge the knocking, and my father appeared. He changed his clothes.
Of course
. The sun had set, darkness cloaking the city, which meant he was off to work. “I’m heading out.”

“Okay.”

“Keep the door locked.”

“I will.”

“Don’t let anyone in here unless—”

“Unless they have a warrant. Got it.”

He shook his head at my curt tone. “I’m just trying to do my job here, Grace.”

I sat there for a few minutes after he was gone until my curiosity got the best of me again. I headed straight for the living room, for the window, wondering if any of the boys filtered back into the neighborhood. I shoved it open, jumping and yelping when I saw Cody was standing there. “Shit!”

He was leaning back against railing, his arms crossed over his chest, staring off into the distance. His eyes shifted my direction when I cursed, his gaze scanning me in the darkness, slowly taking me in from head to toe. “Have I ever told you how bangin’ you look in that uniform?”

Rolling my eyes, I climbed out onto the fire escape to join him, not bothering to respond to that. “What happened?”

“With what?”

“You know what,” I said. “What did my father say to you?”

“Oh.
That
.” He laughed under his breath. “He just said some shit about respect and superiority and doing my family and neighborhood proud and whatever whatever … same bullshit Cormac gets off on railing into me about.”

My brow furrowed. “He didn’t say anything about me?”

“Not directly, but the message was there. He said I needed to
learn boundaries
…” He threw up the finger quotes with a roll of his eyes. “And to
keep my hands off of what doesn’t belong to me
. Asked me if I understood was he was getting at.”

“And you shook your head.”

“So you were watching.”

“Of course,” I said. “What did he say after that?”

“That me being Cormac’s kid will only help me so much … that if I’m not careful, I might regret not heeding his warnings.”

“He
threatened
you?”

He shrugged. “They’re just words, Gracie. They don’t mean shit.”

“But he means them.”

“And I told him his threats didn’t scare me,” he replied. “Because they don’t.”

“But—”

Cody reached over, grabbing ahold of me before I could really argue. I gasped into his palm when his hand covered my mouth, making sure I couldn’t speak, as he pulled me to him, my back against his chest. He held me tightly, one arm around my stomach, as he leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Do you see it?”

“See what?” I mumbled into his palm, the words barely intelligible.

Cody dropped his hand, wrapping his other arm around me. “Look straight up.”

I looked straight up like he told me to, but I saw nothing for a moment … nothing except for the darkness … but after squinting, I realized what he meant. It was faint, barely visible in the low level fog, almost drowned out by the vibrant city lights, but it was there.

A star.

The first star I’d seen in years.

“Make a wish,” Cody said. “Fuck knows when we’ll see one those again.”

I stared at it for a moment.

I wish I didn’t have to deal with all of this. I wish I were far away from everything … from my father, from this life, from this neighborhood. I wish we were free from Hell’s Kitchen finally.

That was what I wanted to say, but I couldn’t.

I couldn’t, because I was afraid of jinxing it.

So instead I said the first thing that came to my mind. “I wish it would snow.”

“Snow,” he whispered. “That’s the same thing I wished for.”

Relaxing back against him, I grasped onto his forearms and stared up at the sky until the star disappeared, vanished as quickly as it appeared.

“Soon,” Cody said, and I knew he knew what it was I really wanted—a means of escape. “It’ll happen soon, Gracie. I promise.”

***

I take a bath, not because I give a crap how I look, but because I need a moment to myself. It’s probably the only place in the house I’ll get some privacy today. I fill up the tub with icy cold water and climb in, relaxing back, staring at the white tile wall surrounding me. I can hear Holden moving around the house and listen as he installs the air conditioner in the living room.

A sense of guilt nags at me, deep down in my chest, until my heart feels almost too heavy to beat anymore. Taking a deep breath, I hold it in my lungs as I close my eyes and slip under the water. I can hear it as the water sloshes it out, hitting the floor, the sound magnified to my clogged ears, like ocean waves crashing around me. Slowly, I open my eyes beneath the water, blinking away the sting as I stare up at the hazy ceiling.

I count in my head.

Ten.

Twenty.

Thirty seconds.

My chest already feels like it wants to explode. The pressure is too much to contain but I press on, continuing my methodic counting. I wonder if this is what it’s like to suffocate … to
really
suffocate.

I wonder what would happen if I never resurfaced, if I just parted my lips and let the water rush in, flooding my lungs as I float away to nothing.

I wonder if it would hurt.

By the time I reach forty, I’m done.
So done
. My chest can’t take it and my heart … my heart hurts.

It’s a scary sensation, one I don’t dwell in, because a loud banging on the bathroom door jars me right out of it. The air leaves my lungs in a startled whoosh, a frenzy stream of bubbles surrounding me as I resurface.

Inhaling sharply, I wipe the water from my face as I try to shake it off. The knocking continues, quieter once my ears unclog, as Holden’s voice calls out. “Gracie? You okay in there?”

“Fine,” I lie.

Is it a lie?

I don’t know anymore.

“You almost done in there?”

“Uh, yeah,” I say, shivering despite the warm air. Jesus, what the hell’s gotten in to me? “I’ll be out in a minute.”

I listen to his footsteps as he walks away before I reach over and pull the plug, letting the water out of the tub. I watch as it circles the drain with such force that it creates a tiny tornado, imagining myself disappearing along with it.

Who am I kidding?

I’ve already disappeared.

I get out of the bathtub once the water is gone, wrapping a towel around me as I dart across the hall to my bedroom. I throw on clothes, more of the same, before pulling my hair back up and heading out to face reality again. The moment I hit the living room, I hear the dull groan, feeling the blast of cool air coming from the window.

Holden is in the kitchen again. I stroll to the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, and watch as he paces around in front of the table. His service-issued Blackberry is at his ear, but he’s not talking. He pulls the phone away after a moment to press a few buttons before bringing it back up, waiting for something or someone.

I don’t know.

I take a seat at the table and glance at the manual for the air conditioner as it lays open in front of me, flipped to the page on how to operate it.
Like I couldn’t figure that out on my own.
I pick up a pen Holden had been using and start doodling in the margins out of boredom.

“Yeah, is the line secure?” Holden asks after a moment to whoever’s on the phone. “Ten minutes? Yeah, that’s great … transfer me.”

I cast him a curious look. I’ve heard him request secured lines before, usually when he’s calling somewhere where he thinks people might be listening, going around his ass to get to his elbow to ensure the phone line is untraceable.

“We’re connected? Great … go ahead and put him on.” He pauses for a beat. “Just one moment. She’s sitting right here.”

I glance up with surprise just as Holden turns to me, holding out his phone. I stare at it for a second, not moving, until he pushes it toward my face, silently telling me to take it. My heart stalls for a beat before kick starting in my chest, thumping wildly.

“Ten minutes,” Holden says quietly. “Watch what you say.”

The phone feels heavy when I bring it to my ear, like it can’t possibly sustain the weight of whatever this phone call brings. My hands tremble, the pen shaking as I absently scribble, willing my goddamn heart to quit banging in my ears and clogging my throat. I’m so nervous because of the
what-ifs
that it takes me damn near a full minute to get my voice to even work. My brain tells me this is just some routine gotta-talk-to-a-shrink-since-I’m-worried-about-you call, but my heart … my heart is frantic because of his words.

Watch what you say …

It’s somebody who can’t find me.

Somebody who isn’t supposed to know where I am.