Irresistible Refrain

2

My mind remembered how badly Bryan Jackson had hurt me, but my traitorous body wanted me to forget. It wanted me to go back, wrap my legs around that washboard waist of his, curl my fingers into his tatted biceps, fuse my mouth to his and beg him to make me moan instead of those twins. Fortunately for me, my mind overruled and the nail prints in my palms were the only casualty I sustained after this particular run in with Bryan.

I followed War to the bedroom, past the triple stack of sleeping bunks where my brother and the other band members slept. He was tall, about a half inch taller than Bryan, and his slender frame dwarfed the full sized bed as he crawled into it and held the covers out for me. Knee to the mattress, I slid underneath and shimmied close. An errant caramel colored strand tickled my nose as I laid my cheek against his smooth chest, right over his solid black heart tattoo. I tried to make myself relax while he stroked my hair.

“You ok, babe?” His deep voice rumbled beneath my ear and I imagined his brown eyes were probably crinkled with concern.

“Yeah.” I lied. The truth was too depressing for anybody to want to hear.

“Why were you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Need another hit?”

Not more coke. I was too juiced up on that already, my heart racing and my pupils dilated and light sensitive. Seeing Bryan again had brought back all the old memories that I didn’t want to dwell on anymore. I was faithful to only one lover now. One that I couldn’t live without.

“Sure. Set me up a rig.” I rolled back my sleeve, mouth drying and my heart hammering in anticipation.

War placed it on a spoon, added a few drops of water, and flicked on a cigarette lighter. The mixture began to bubble and liquefy in response to the blue flame underneath.

I held my breath; eyes fixated on the weak coffee colored liquid as War removed the needle caps and drew up two syringefuls, flicking them to remove the bubbles. I held out my arm, not surprised that it shook, not surprised at how badly I wanted it. I’d gone days without and I was just beginning to feel the first pangs of withdrawal.

I’d been one of the unlucky ones. Instead of getting sick and shunning it forever, I’d fallen in love with it from that first time back in Martin’s apartment. Since then, I’d constantly craved that euphoric high. The one that makes all the pain fade away. The one that makes you feel like you’ve transcended all your problems. The one that makes you feel like you’re in heaven.

Too bad it was only temporary. Too bad it was all a lie.

Fifteen seconds later my head felt light, and my limbs felt heavy. War and I stared at each other, eyes and minds unfocused and uncaring. An hour later, he was completely out, but not me. Drugs could only mask the truth for so long. I was broken beyond repair, my life in tatters all around me. No matter how much shit I did, my mind still raced around in pointless circles. There were no easy answers. I was so far off course now that I didn’t see any way to make it right. And though it seemed as if I’d suddenly woken up one day to find myself here in this hellhole, the reality was that I’d slid down this slippery slope by making one poor decision after another.

War shifted, the sheets rustling softly as he turned on his side facing away from me. Being alone in the dark was something I’d grown accustomed to. He fell asleep quickly, the sound of his breathing evening out. As the lonely minutes of the night droned slowly on toward morning, I remained awake. My thoughts drifted to Bryan as they often did. If possible he’d gotten even better looking since I’d seen him last. His light brown hair trimmed short into a faux hawk was the perfect style to offset his gorgeous greyish green eyes and that shadowed masculine jaw of his. It was disheartening to discover that the years apart hadn’t lessened the hold he had over me.

I’d idolized Bryan Jackson for as long as I could remember. He treated me with the same respect he did his own sisters, and I loved him for that. He and my brother were the only protectors I had in a neighborhood where drug deals and drive bys were commonplace, in a world where even my own apartment hadn’t been safe.

9 years ago

“Hi, Lace.” Ms. Jackson looked up at me as I entered the apartment with the key she’d given Dizzy and me years before. She’d wanted to be sure we had somewhere safe to go whenever our mom was strung out.

“Bryan ready?” I asked, wondering where he was.

“He’s in the shower. He should be out any minute.” She laid aside the pants she’d been sewing on. They were an old pair of mine that she’d been adding material to so I could wear them longer. “I can’t believe he won Metallica tickets. Are you as excited as he is about going?”

I nodded.

“Come and sit with me.” Ms. Jackson patted the cushion beside her. Though it had a new slipcover, it was the same old couch I’d buried my head in the first time I’d met Bryan. The time I told him I was going to marry him someday. That was still my plan. Only now I was mature enough that I didn’t speak every random thought out loud.

I took a seat next to my future mother-in-law and plucked at the loose threads on my frayed jeans. Grownups still made me nervous. She touched my hand and smiled. Her smile was just like his. It made her eyes sparkle. His mom was really nice. Nothing at all like mine. She was always doing things to help Dizzy and me out without making it seem like it was charity.

“How’s school?”

“Fine.”

“Bry says you made the top grades in your class again.”

I shrugged, but inside I was always pleased by Bryan’s praise. “In everything but math. I hate it.”

There was a long silent pause. Finally, I heard the shower shut off. The one bedroom apartments at the University House high rise were small, even by public housing standards. All had the same layout, too. The kitchen, dining, and living room were in one room with the bedroom and bathroom down a short hallway in the back. Bryan’s family of four was cramped inside the tight space. His sisters and mom shared the only bedroom while he slept on the couch.

Despite the shared floor plan, Bryan’s apartment and mine couldn’t have been more different. Bryan’s mom was always adding little decorative touches like the slipcover that transformed their place from an apartment to a home. My apartment was a disaster zone, littered with trash, dirty laundry, and my mom’s pipes and needles. Whenever she was on a long binge, like her current one, it got even worse. Dangerous, paranoid, and unpredictable, she holed up in her room for days. She didn’t even bathe. It was a relief to be able to escape, even if it was only for a little while.

“Hey, Lace,” Bryan acknowledged as he walked around the couch, running a brush through his wet hair. “Where’s Dizzy?”

“Should be here soon.” Dizzy had a weekend job bussing tables and washing dishes at Mr. Spinelli’s Greek restaurant on the Ave. “He’s changing clothes.” Though at twelve he was way too young to officially hold a job, Mr. Spinelli overlooked that and paid Dizzy in cash. That money helped us purchase the basic things we needed like food, toiletries, and school supplies.

Suddenly, there was a loud thump from the apartment above.

My apartment.

I froze, eyes to the ceiling, listening intently. I heard yelling, and then an ominous crash. I jumped up, my heart racing. “I’d better check and see what’s going on.” I hurried to the door, throwing a quick glance at Bryan. His worried expression probably matched my own. He was the only one who really knew how bad things were up there.

“Lace, wait.” Ms. Jackson’s voice followed me out into the hall, but I ignored her. I flew up the stairwell and burst through the door of my apartment. Fear transformed into full blown terror as I took in the scene. Two drug dealers I recognized stood at opposite sides of the room, one stood near my mother, the other held Dizzy who was struggling to break free.

“Lace, get out of here quick!” he yelled.

I bolted for the door but I wasn’t fast enough. Two meaty hands landed on my shoulders and I found myself spun around looking at the long stringy haired pusher.

“She’s a pretty one, Mama.” His rancid breath nearly made me puke as he leered down at me. I started to shake.

“Leave her alone!” Dizzy shouted while twisting violently in the arms of the wide bodied man restraining him. “She’s just a kid.”

“Sean likes ‘em young,” the wide bodied dealer explained. His fat lips curled into a sneer.

Fingers digging painfully into the sensitive flesh of my upper arms, Sean backed me up against the wall. Bile burned the back of my throat as he let go of one arm to touch my cheek. Warm tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes.

“Mama,” Sean threw a meaningful glance her way. “If you want your candy. I get your daughter. That’s the deal.”

“No!” Dizzy shouted. “Let her go, you piece of shit.”

“Shut him the fuck up, Trace,” Sean ordered harshly.

I heard a sharp metallic click. My eyes widened as I watched Trace bring a switchblade up to my brother’s throat. My chest got so tight I could barely breathe. I shook my head.

“You heard him little man,” Trace warned my brother. “Be quiet.” A volcano of ineffectual anger erupted inside Dizzy’s eyes.

I looked to my mother for help. “Please, Momma,” I pleaded. “Tell them no. Make them go away.”

Eyes dull and lifeless, my mother’s gaze went right through me as if I didn’t even exist. Sean yanked my arm and pulled me toward the bedroom.

“No,” I rasped, trying to slow him down by dragging my feet. “I’ll scream.”

“You better not, or I’ll have Trace carve up that brother of yours,” Sean’s fingernails scratched my arms making more tears sting my eyes. “And stop your bawling. Tears don’t change a damn thing in this shitty world. You’re old enough to know better.”

He kicked the door closed and had me pinned to the bed within seconds. I struggled at first, but stopped when I realized he seemed to like that. His body was so heavy on top of mine that I found it difficult to breathe, and when I felt his slimy hands slithering up under my shirt, I stopped wanting to try.

I turned my head toward the door, withdrew inside myself, and pretended I wasn’t even there. Just as I felt the welcome blackness begin to take me under, I heard a heavy pounding and voices outside the door.

“Police.” That one word was my lifeline. It gave me the strength to renew my struggle.

Sean threw a furtive glance at the window, but our apartment was on the eleventh floor, so that wasn’t going to work out very well for him. Evidently reaching the same conclusion, he gave me a hard shake before he jumped off me. “Keep your mouth shut or I’ll come back for you and your brother. I know a guy who likes little boys. Understand?”

I nodded, scurried off the bed, and slid down into the far corner of the room, wanting as much distance between him and me as I could possibly get. I pulled my knees to my chest as he threw open the door. I watched him skid to a halt in front of a cop’s drawn gun.

“Turn around. Hands up on the wall, Evans,” the uniformed officer ordered. “I should have known slime balls like you and Carson would be involved in something like this.” Behind him, I could see that another officer had already restrained Trace. My mother stood vacantly beside them making no effort to come to me.

“Detective Shannon. So nice to see you,” Sean returned, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I suggest you exercise your right to remain silent.” Detective Shannon’s gaze swept over me as he cuffed Sean. “You can come in.” He glanced over his shoulder. “The girl’s in here. Looks pretty shaken up.”

I heard footsteps. Dizzy appeared first, tearing up when he saw me, Ms. Jackson right behind him. Dizzy crossed the room and knelt down on the floor in front of me. He reached out his arms.

“No.” I shook my head. “Don’t touch me.”

Dizzy withdrew looking hurt. I noticed Bryan hovering in the doorway watching us with a worried frown. Shame darkened my cheeks. I laid my head down on my crossed arms and closed my eyes, trying to block everything out.

“Let me talk to her.” I heard Ms. Jackson say. “I think she’ll respond better to a woman right now.” I felt the warmth from her body as she sank down beside me. She gently stroked my hair. “You did nothing wrong, Lace,” she soothed in her soft voice. “But you need to tell the police the truth. You and Dizzy can’t stay here anymore with your mom. It’s not safe.”

Dizzy and I had moved in with our uncle after that. He’d been a mean son of a bitch, but he didn’t knock us around and at least we were off the Avenue.

I didn’t see Bryan again until high school, and by then I was so full of myself. My ego had inflated right along with my cup size. I’d believed my good looks and curves would be my salvation, my way out from under the shameful shadow my mother had cast over me. I was so certain that I’d make something out of my life.

I’d been wrong.