37. Relic

Chapter thirty-seven

Relic

I woke, not having a clue where I was. The furniture beneath me too soft, my skin too cold from air conditioning, and it was too quiet for it to be my apartment. No screaming neighbors, no loud engines revving from outside, no gunshots. Macie's. Lev…

I must have fallen asleep.

Camila.

I sat up on the couch, checked my phone—8:30 in the morning—and glanced around. Demarius was asleep on the bed, and Camila was nowhere to be found. Fuck.

I threw on my boots and headed up the stairs. The kitchen was empty, and I was about to lose my damn mind and tear this house apart for my sister, but then I heard her laughter in the backyard. I stepped to bust out the backdoor, but the door leading to the garage opened and in waltzed Macie's dad and his tattooed friend, Isaiah. They had been sharing a laugh but went quiet when they saw me.

Not only did they go grim and quiet, but they sized me up like they themselves had walked my streets. But what did they know about my life? Nothing. Urge was to size them up in return, spout off some sarcastic shit to let them know I could handle myself just fine if they threw a punch, but I remained silent. This was Macie's dad. He helped us out yesterday, let me and Camila stay the night, and there weren't enough lifetimes for me to thank Isaiah for helping Lev. "Thank you. To both of you. For helping Lev. He's a good kid and deserves better."

"Hungry?" Macie's dad asked.

Starving. "I'm good."

"Sure, you are." Isaiah opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs and a package of bacon.

"I'll get Camila." I jacked my thumb toward the backdoor. "Then I'll wake Demarius and we'll split. Thank you again for Lev and for letting us crash here." Speaking of, "How is Lev?"

"Sound asleep," Isaiah said. "I think he'll be out until this afternoon. He's had a hell of a go of it. That's Noah, by the way. He's Macie's dad and the man who has no problem kicking your ass if you hurt his daughter. I'm Isaiah, the guy who has no problem burying bodies."

Message received. I should have said some nice-to-meet-you shit, but my guard was up so I gave a chin nod instead. "Relic."

Noah tossed a chin nod back.

"Let Demarius sleep." Noah took a bowl out of a cabinet and started cracking eggs. "Macie said none of you go in to work until later this afternoon, and my wife's out back finger painting with your sister. Last I checked, they were having a ball. Scrambled work?"

"I don't want to put you out." I had never wanted to split so badly in a situation in my life. Except for Eric. Eric was always worse.

"You're not."

Unsure of myself, I surveyed the kitchen. "Where's Macie?"

"At my house." Isaiah laid the bacon into the hot skillet, and it sizzled. "She stayed the night to help Lev. I'll text Rachel to send her over once breakfast's ready."

Yeah, I didn't like any of this. Let Demarius sleep. I could carry Camila as I walked my ass home. "I don't mean any offense, but I don't feel comfortable. I appreciate everything you've done, but I'm going to head home."

Isaiah and Noah shared a glance then Isaiah said, "He tells it straight. That's something."

"Something," Noah muttered as he poured the eggs into a hot pan. "You're dating my daughter. How about the two of us pretend this isn't awkward as fuck and eat some eggs."

Feeling stuck, I leaned my ass against the stool at the island.

"Macie says you live in the Freedom Apartments," Noah said as he used a spatula to cook the eggs.

"Yeah."

"Is it still a shithole?" Isaiah asked. "It was when Noah and I lived down the street in our foster parents' home."

My eyes flashed to his, and an understanding passed between us, shaking me to the core.

"Remember when me and you rented that place at Heartland?" Noah asked.

I raised an eyebrow at that. I'd live in my car before I allowed Camila to step foot anywhere near there. The entire place was nothing but junkies.

"Now, that place was a shithole," Isaiah said. "I don't know why we bothered with locks."

Isaiah placed a plate of bacon on the island. Noah followed up with the eggs. He also placed a plate in front of me along with a fork and told me to, "Eat up."

Still standing on the other side of the island, they filled their plates with food, so I went ahead and took a portion for myself. I ate the bacon first. That was expensive shit we could never afford.

"Can I talk straight with you?" Noah asked.

"It's your house," I answered.

"The Freedom Apartments are part of the Broad Street gang territory," he said. "How much of that is a problem for you?"

My stomach dipped. "What did Macie say to you?"

"Nothing I couldn't figure out for myself the moment she told me where you lived."

Translation: would I be a problem for Macie? It was a fair question, and the answer was yes. "Was it a problem for you?" I countered. "You have a nice house, especially for someone who claims they grew up on the streets."

"When I met my wife's dad, I was ‘no, sir' and ‘yes, sir.'"

I had no idea how to navigate this. "I've managed to stay out." Getting harder by the day, and once I returned home, I'd be in for life, but what was the point of telling him? Odds were he already hated me, with good reason. "And I noticed neither of you answered."

"He's a cocky prick," Isaiah said to Noah.

"So were both of you." Macie's mom entered from the backyard. "Good morning, Relic. I'm Echo. I hope you don't mind, my youngest, Oliver, and I are painting with Camila in the backyard. Noah, can you hand me that roll of paper towels?"

He tossed them to her, and she assessed the three of us. "Are the two of them playing nice?"

"They made me food," I answered.

"That's what I'm afraid of." She pointed at Noah and Isaiah. "Be nice."

Noah and Isaiah smiled like they'd been caught with their hand in the cookie jar, and she left.

I couldn't figure out this morning at all. "What's this all about?"

"My daughter has had enough danger in her life, and she's not even eighteen. Just doing a risk assessment."

Fair enough. Macie was becoming the sun of my world, and I'd easily beat the shit out of anyone who hurt her. "I'm being heavily recruited by the gang if that's what you're asking. As for dating Macie, I'd love to, but I told her last night we shouldn't see each other anymore because I don't want any problems I have bleeding into her life."

Noah pushed his eggs around his plate then tossed his fork into the sink. "Foster kids go to college for free. I went, earned my degree, and worked my ass off. That's why I have a nice house. As for Isaiah, he also worked his ass off and earned a ton of automotive repair certificates, worked in multiple garages at the same time to save enough money to eventually buy his own garage."

They went quiet as if letting all of that sink in. It sounded great, but I didn't have the luxury of time, college, certificates, or trade schools.

"Macie says you gave her a yearbook marking who could be jacking cars," Isaiah said. "If you're currently not in a gang, how do you know your information is fact?"

"I don't know facts, but I have a friend who's in, and he knows what's going down. All I'm doing is trying to help Macie narrow the list."

"And snag a fifty-thousand-dollar reward?" Isaiah added.

Not feeling hungry anymore, I pushed the plate away. "I'll take that reward if I help her find who did it, but Macie knows this already. I'm not playing her out. I care about her, and I want to find the bastards who did this to her. If I can score money to help me and my sisters along the way, I'm not passing up that opportunity."

Noah looked over at Isaiah and he nodded as if agreeing to whatever unsaid question was on the table.

"Anything else you want to know?" I asked.

"Anything you think we should know?" Noah turned the question around.

Why the fuck not? "I'm in group therapy because I stole five dollars out of a car in front of a police station. Therapy is part of my plea deal."

Isaiah snorted. "And I had been beginning to believe you were smart."

"Why'd you do it?" Noah asked.

"I thought maybe the gang wouldn't want me if I messed up so blatantly bad."

The two of them went silent, and I wasn't sure if I preferred the silence over their barrage of questions. Isaiah then said to me, "What's your last name?"

"Aslanov."

His head tilted in that I-know-that-name and not in a good way. "Any relation to Jack Aslanov?"

Fuck me. "He's my dad, but he and I don't see eye-to-eye. He went to prison a few years back for dealing and just got out. For all I care, he could have rotted behind bars. How do you know him?"

Isaiah rubbed his jaw. "I street raced when I was younger. Your dad was around."

Which meant he knew Eric. I glanced back and forth between Noah and Isaiah and alarm bells rang. Were these two loyal to Eric then? Were they now? The stool squeaked as I unconsciously backed away.

"Don't get the wrong idea, kid," Isaiah said. "Eric was no friend of mine or Noah's."

The fact that Isaiah could put two and two together to equal Eric made me want to vomit. I was so damn edgy that my skin felt like razor blades. "You know Eric then?"

"As I said," Isaiah answered. "He and I have never been and will never be friends. If you're Aslanov's kid, then I'm assuming you know Eric better than others. Is he the asshole pushing you to join the gang?"

I didn't answer and appreciated it when neither of them pressed.

"You truly on your own?" Noah asked, and for the first time, the question didn't feel like a full-on inquisition, but genuine concern. I didn't know them. Didn't trust hardly anyone.

I shrugged because I avoided questions like that for Child Protective Services reasons. I didn't need Camila taken away and fucked-up by strangers. I was doing a good enough job of that on my own. "I take care of me and my sisters just fine." Truth was, I wasn't taking good care of them. I had no idea how we were going to exist as we were drowning in bills, and when I began working for Eric, I'd bring new danger into their lives. "Unless there's something else you need from me," a blood sample, my social security number, "I'm going to gather my sister and head home."

I turned for the door to the backyard, but Noah said, "A family friend is coming by tomorrow when she gets back in town to help Macie describe the tattoo. From what I hear, you've been helpful dealing with the fallout of the carjacking. Her Mom and I thank you for that, and we figure, if Macie wants it, you could stick around and see how it all goes."

My eyes narrowed. Stick around? What did that mean? "Come again?"

"I'm saying that you and your sister could come back tomorrow. Seth can watch Camila while you sit in with us as we try to help Macie describe the tattoo."

Some of the tightness in my chest released, and I didn't understand why. One more day. Macie's dad had given me a valid excuse to buy myself one more day from joining the gang. The anticipation of walking up to Eric and telling him he owned me for life had made me feel like I was decomposing from the inside out.

Could I pass the opportunity to help Macie battle her demons before I had to walk away for good? Fuck no. I had to be here by her side for this. Maybe she'd bask in the happy-ever-after I'd never receive. Maybe seeing her happy could make the shit show my life was about to become slightly bearable. "I'd like that. Thanks."

"And if the leads you produce gives us whoever did this to Macie," Isaiah said, "That money's yours. Noah and I both know the potential personal costs of that yearbook. You have our respect for that."

Unsure what to say, I nodded. Footsteps up the stairs and Demarius emerged from the basement. He assessed the situation and sent me a look asking if I was okay. "Morning."

I tilted my head to the eggs. "They made breakfast." Translation: I'm okay.

Demarius, being one of the best friends I could have made, sat on the stool and grabbed a plate, letting me know he was here to have my back and stay. "Looks good, and I don't mind if I do."