Perfectly Protected (Addicted To You, Book Three) Page 3

  I chose vanilla yogurt, then topped it with snickers and peanut butter sauce.

  “That’s all you want?” Adam asked. He was putting tons and tons of toppings on his, everything from Fruity Pebbles to Reese’s Pieces.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I like to keep it simple.”

  “Not me,” he said as he dumped a scoop of chocolate chips into his cup. “I figure I’m here, I might as well do it right.”

  I tried to pay for my yogurt, but Adam wouldn’t let me.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Especially since I already owe you for the drink you bought me the other night.” The words were out of my mouth before I realized I’d given him an opportunity to ask me why I’d left the bar so suddenly like that.

  “No problem.” He waved his hand like it wasn’t a big deal and then led us to a tiny wrought iron table outside on the sidewalk. “But what was that about, anyway?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked as I sat down, trying to stall.

  “You just ran out of there.” He grinned at me. “It wasn’t something I did, was it?” His tone made it clear that he knew this was impossible, that there was no way he could have ever done something that would have upset someone.

  “No,” I said. “It wasn’t you. I think I was just tired, and I wasn’t feeling good.

  I’m not used to drinking.”

  He nodded, a concerned look on his face. “I shouldn’t have given you that alcohol.”

  “No!” I said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  Adam shook his head. “I thought it would be okay, but I should have known better. I’m sorry.” He reached across the table and squeezed my hand.

  “Well, well, well, isn’t this cozy,” a voice said.

  Justin was standing in front of our table.

  “Oh, God,” Adam groaned. “Not this guy again.”

  “How did you find me?” I blurted. My heart was doing a dance in my chest, and my stomach immediately tied into a knot.

  “You said you were going for yogurt and this is the closest thing to campus. So I thought I’d come and join you.” He grabbed a chair from a nearby table and slid it over to ours.

  “This is a two person table,” Adam pointed out.

  Justin shrugged, then peered into Adam’s cup. “Your yogurt looks like ass.”

  “Justin!” I said. “Don’t be rude.” What was he doing here anyway? Did he come because he knew I was with another guy? Was he jealous? It was crazy, but the thought filled me with happiness.

  “I’m not being rude,” Justin said. “I’m just stating a fact.” He looked into my cup, then reached out and grabbed my spoon and took a bite. “Now that’s delicious. You need to give Cambridge Boy here a lesson in ice cream making, Pippi.”

  Adam stared at him. “What is he talking about?” he asked me.

  “He’s calling you Cambridge Boy because he thinks you’re a stuck up ivy-leaguer,” I explained. “And he calls me Pippi because I wore my hair in braids.”

  Justin smiled as if I’d just given him a great compliment.

  “That’s ridiculous and stupid,” Adam said. “Not to mention condescending.”

  “Nah,” Justin said. He put my spoon down. “It’s only condescending if I think I’m better than you.” He thought about it. “Which I guess I do, so actually — “

  Adam stood up, like maybe he was going to hit him.

  And then Justin stood up. Only Justin was smiling. He reached out and patted Adam’s shoulder. “I appreciate the sentiment, but—really, dude? You’ve got to be kidding.”

  Adam’s face grew red as he seemed to realize that Justin didn’t consider him a threat. “You’re a real dick. And she shouldn’t be wasting her time with you,” Adam said.

  Then I had to stand up. The last thing I wanted was for Adam to bait Justin into a fight, because that wouldn’t end well for Adam.

  “Justin, can I talk to you for a second? Down the street.” I put my hands on his chest and started to push him a few feet away. “I’ll be right back,” I called to Adam.

  We walked around the side of the building.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.

  “What the hell do I think I’m doing? What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Having frozen yogurt with a friend.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Which, last time I checked, isn’t a crime.”

  “Trying to make me jealous is what you were doing,” he said.

  “I was not!” I lied.

  “Please.” He scoffed. “There’s no way you really like that tool.”

  “He’s not a tool,” I said. “He’s nice.”

  “I don’t get a good vibe from him,” Justin said. “Something’s off about that guy.”

  “You’ve spent all of five seconds with him.”

  “I don’t want you seeing him anymore.”

  “You don’t have the right to say that.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because – ” His phone rang then, and he glanced down at the screen. “Just a second.” He walked a few steps away from me and answered the call.

  I couldn’t believe he was taking a phone call when we were in the middle of a conversation. Talk about rude!

  “Yeah,” he said. “What? Are you sure?” He listened and his expression darkened with whatever he was hearing. “Okay, I’m going there now.”

  He hung up, then turned and looked at me. “I have to go. We’ll talk about this later.” He stared to walk away from me down the street.

  My mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding me?” I demanded, chasing after him.

  “Are you kidding me? You’re leaving?”

  “I have something to take care of.” He wasn’t t looking at me anymore. Instead, he was looking straight ahead, his eyes intense.

  “You’re acting crazy,” I said.

  “I’m acting crazy? You’re the one chasing me down the street.”

  I realized he was right. “Fine,” I said. “Good bye.” I turned around, but he called after me.

  “Lindsay!”

  I stopped.

  He walked back a few steps. “Look, I’m sorry. Something came up. I’ll call you later.”

  “What came up?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t get into it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s… it’s not something I want to expose you to.”

  “I want to go with you.”

  He looked at me like I really was insane. “No.”

  “Yes!”

  “You can’t.” He shook his head vehemently.

  “Justin, please.” The anger was gone from my voice, and now it was shaking just a little bit. “Please, I…I want to know you, I want to know what goes on with you.

  Please.”

  He sighed. “Fine,” he said after a moment. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  And then he turned and started walking down the street, leaving me racing to catch up with him.

  JUSTIN

  I was walking fast, almost too fast for Lindsay to keep up with me.

  “Hey,” she said, falling behind. “Will you slow down?”

  I slowed down, but just a little. “I’m moving fast because I can’t really waste any time. My friend’s in serious trouble.”

  “Well, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  I checked the time on my phone. Delvin had just called a minute ago, but it would take me at least an hour to get down to the Ames Street Projects, where he’d spotted Gilbert not long ago. There was a well-known drug dealer in that area and an abandoned house where a lot of junkies got high, and sometimes died, too.

  “What’s going on is that my drug addict friend is probably using heroin right now.

  Like, right this second.” I looked at Lindsay to gauge her reaction to my words. So far, there was nothing in her face that indicated she was spooked.

  “Maybe—maybe we should call the police?”
she asked finally.

  We were still walking fast, but now I slowed down and looked at her. “No cops.

  No way. Promise me that you won’t call the police, no matter what you see tonight.”

  She stared at me. “You know I can’t promise that, Justin.”

  “Then I’m sorry, you need to stay far away from where I’m going.” I started to leave again, but she reached out and grabbed my wrist.

  Her hand on my arm was like a shock to the system. Her touch was like nothing I’d ever felt before. It stopped me cold. “I want to be with you, I want to help,” she said softly.

  “Listen, Gilbert is an addict. He was just in jail, he’s on parole and if anyone calls the cops, he’s going back to prison. So there’s no option of calling the police. Ever.”

  She nodded as if she understood, but I knew there was no way she could ever understand. Still, I had to give her credit for even wanting to try and help. My respect for her had already gone up about a thousand percent.

  “I won’t call the police,” she said. “Not unless you’re being hurt or—”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “No calling for any reason, Lindsay.”

  “Okay. Fine.”

  I wasn’t sure I could trust her to keep her word, but I accepted her agreement.

  “Come on, we’re wasting time standing around talking.” We started walking again.

  Finally, we got to the T and a new train pulled up almost immediately.

  We sat down in two seats next to each other. The train wasn’t very crowded.

  “We’re taking it all the way to the last stop,” I told her. “And the place we’re going isn’t very pleasant. It’s dangerous.”

  Lindsay took a deep breath. “Are you afraid?”

  I smiled. “No. I don’t get afraid. I mostly just get angry.”

  “Well, I am afraid. But I’m not going to let my fear stop me.”

  We looked one another in the eyes, then. For the first time, I saw not just how beautiful and innocent Lindsay was, but how strong. Her eyes didn’t waver. And it occurred to me that she was just as determined in her own way, as I was in mine.

  For the millionth time, I had the urge to just kiss her already and be done with it.

  But I held back. I wasn’t going to let my emotions get the best of me. And I certainly wasn’t going to drag Lindsay further into the darkness of my world by getting romantically involved.

  But aren’t you already pulling her in? Isn’t she already being exposed to the darkness?

  No. This was different. This was more like…a friendship. We were friends.

  And as long as I could keep her at a distance, she would never be hurt.

  Besides, maybe this little journey into my part of the world would set her straight.

  She’d soon find out that hanging out with me was no picnic, it wasn’t like some TV show where everything was perfectly choreographed and even the bad guys had great hair and perfect teeth. She was going to get a glimpse at the real world, and I had a feeling she wouldn’t be coming back for seconds anytime soon.

  This would be another chapter in Lindsay’s continuing education, and one night in the projects would be worth a year in those stupid ivy-league classes.

  At one stop, a group of young knuckleheads got on the train. They were probably in high school, not even that much younger than us. They sat down a few feet away and started talking a lot of trash. Swearing, bragging, and generally making their presence known to the entire car.

  Across from them, an attractive woman and her boyfriend sat, looking rather uncomfortable.

  “Honey. Sweetie.” One of the teenagers yelled at her. “You fine, mami.”

  The woman looked down nervously. Her boyfriend put his arm around her, but didn’t say a word in response.

  “Your man is shook,” someone else said. “I would take good care of you, girl.

  You know you want to come over here with us.”

  The couple didn’t respond. The teenagers were laughing hysterically at their own bad jokes.

  Lindsay was tense. I could see it in the stiff way she was sitting. She was closer to the group of guys, so I took her hand. “Come and sit on the other side of me,” I told her.

  Gratefully, she got up and moved to my left, so I was now between her and the rowdy group.

  As she moved, she caught the group’s attention, as a few of the guys eyeballed her, staring obviously at her ass.

  I made sure to look right at them, and one of them opened his mouth to say something and then seemed to think better of it. I held his gaze for a while, making sure to send the message with my eyes. One word out of you and I will make sure it’s the last word you speak for a long time.

  The group of boys didn’t speak to us again, and in fact, they seemed to settle down, getting off a couple of stops later.

  Before long, it was just Lindsay and I in the train together, the car vibrating on the tracks as we rolled through the tunnels beneath the city and then emerged once more above ground.

  The T rolled to a stop and I got up from my seat. “You ready?” I said.

  Lindsay stood up too. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said.

  “Good. Come on, then.” I led her outside and onto the platform.

  The streets were almost empty in the immediate area of the train station. The buildings around us were shadowy and dark, and they loomed menacingly, as though the citizens within were watching us and judging from behind the darkened windows.

  We started to walk, our footsteps echoing loudly on the street as we hurried towards the destination.

  “How far away is this place?” Lindsay asked, after a moment.

  “Close. You’ll wish it was a lot farther away, once we get there.”

  “Oh, that’s comforting.”

  “I’m not trying to comfort you—I’m preparing you.”

  She didn’t say anything to that.

  And then, just like I’d predicted, we drew into the Ames Projects and the main drag where they did all the drug and prostitution business. Where it had once been completely quiet, all of a sudden there were cars cruising slowly by, and people on the corners, or sitting on front stoops with menacing eyes.

  People called out to us as we walked by.

  “What you doing here, girl?”

  “You need some dank, brother?”

  I looked at Lindsay, saw the fright in her eyes, and immediately grabbed her hand again. “Don’t look at them, don’t respond. Just keep walking, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Most of the people ignored us, but every so often someone would make a comment. There were women in skirts that just barely covered their ass cheeks.

  Sometimes a car would pull up and they would engage in quick negotiations before the woman would get into the car and it would pull away.

  The street was alive, thriving with its own illegal brand of tourism and business, and money was being exchanged all over the place.

  We were getting closer to the abandoned house where I figured Gilbert had gone to get high. Once he’d purchased the heroin, he’d be wanting to shoot up as fast as possible, and this house was the most obvious location to do it.

  “I wish I had a gun,” I said out loud, not meaning to.

  Lindsay glanced at me. “Why would you want that?”

  “It just might make certain things easier.”

  Lindsay stopped short. “I don’t want you getting hurt, Justin. Please, tell me you aren’t going to do something stupid.”

  “It depends on your definition of stupid.”

  “I’m really getting scared now,” she said.

  Nearby, a fat man on the steps eating some potato chips and drinking a beer laughed. “You need to control that bitch, son.”

  “Or I could just control my fist, right into your fat fucking mouth,” I replied, moving towards him, meaning it. Lindsay grabbed my arm and held me back.

  The fat man put up his hands. Chips flew out of his mouth as
he spoke. “Hey, hey, I was just making a joke. Relax.”

  “You fucking relax,” I said.

  A few people were watching the scene now, and I didn’t know if the man had friends nearby. It was time to go. I turned and walked, taking Lindsay with me.

  We moved down a side street that was empty of people, but it wouldn’t have been a surprise if there were some crack head around, waiting to try and rob someone. I kept my eyes open, alert to anything and everything.

  I knew Lindsay was scared. I could practically feel the terror radiating off her in waves. “It’s going to be okay, I won’t let anything happen to you,” I told her.

  “Remember that.”

  She nodded, but didn’t speak.

  Finally, we turned onto Ames Street and I saw the abandoned house across the road. It was just as it had always been. Two stories, with boarded up windows and a door that had eviction notices and warnings stapled to it.

  The yard was tiny, with weeds growing everywhere.

  “That’s the place,” I told her, pointing.

  “It looks empty,” she said, almost whispering.

  “Yeah, but it’s not. Trust me. It’s crawling with dope fiends and lowlifes.”

  We crossed the street together, and then I went into the front yard, with Lindsay trailing slightly behind me. “You should wait outside,” I told her.

  “No way.” She shook her head. “I’m not standing out here alone.”

  “It’s going to be a lot worse inside.”

  “I don’t care. I’m not getting left out here by myself.”

  “Okay. Come on. Just try and keep up with me, because I’m going to be in and out of there quickly.”

  She nodded.

  I started climbing the rickety, rotted stairs to the front door. It was locked from the inside, so I knocked twice.

  A few moments later, a voice called out. “Who is it?”

  “I’m a friend of Gil’s.”

  “Don’t know him.”

  “He’s inside. Open up.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m JB. Go ask Gil, he’ll tell you.”

  There was some mumbling and then the door opened and a gray face, almost unrecognizable as a man or woman, peered out at us. “You a cop?”