The Invisibles: Let Me Go Part 1

Let Me Go.

by Mich.e.l.le Lynn.

MY TIRES SCREAM around the corner, gripping the pavement from the sharp turn onto our street. I mindlessly daydream about the hot blonde that strolled into the shop with a broken air conditioner five minutes before I clocked out. Her short skirt, tight T-shirt, and flirtatious eyes made me circle back around for a second look. I may not have sealed the deal today, but she'll be back tomorrow and I plan on grabbing her phone number. My tires screech to a halt when my b.u.mper almost plows into a black Infiniti parked at the end of our driveway.

As my body flies forward and slams back into the black cloth seat, I catch a pair of long tanned legs. Legs I haven't forgotten from two days ago when she surprisingly showed up here looking for an apartment. After a quick tour by my roommate, Chrissy, she decided to rent the vacant room. Having a smoking hot roommate in the bedroom next door, with one wall of separation is a guy's wet dream. Too bad I promised my roommates, Dex and Chrissy, I'd look, but my hands would stay tucked in my pockets. Watching those legs break the distance to our doorstep changes my thinking though.

Since I can't park in my normal spot, the garage, I throw the Mustang in park and climb out. Shutting the door, I jog over to the piles of boxes sitting on the driveway. Why is all her s.h.i.t strewn around? You'd think someone with an Infiniti would have a d.a.m.n moving truck plus some hired hands to move the c.r.a.p into the house.

I pick up a box labeled bedroom in girly handwriting and then stumble back from the unexpected weight. Holy mother, what the h.e.l.l does she have in this box? Then on cue, she jogs down the steps of our house. "Oh, you don't have to help me." She pats my arm with her hand and breezes past me. "But I would appreciate it," she hollers back. f.u.c.k me, her voice is sweet stirred with a lace of seduction. I'm second-guessing that promise to Chrissy that I won't f.u.c.k the roommate.

Marching up the stairs in our smaller three-bedroom house, I blindly veer to her bedroom. She's the furthest down the hall with the room already furnished with a double bed and generic brown dresser left behind from our neighbor turned landlord, Mrs. Fletcher. When Mrs. F decided to move to her lake house, Chrissy grabbed at the opportunity to rent across the street from Brady and Sadie. Definitely not wanting to stay with a couple about to make their dash down the altar, I opted to move in with Chrissy and Dex. However, I'm not sure which option was better, there's a good chance Chrissy and Dex will say their 'I do's' first.

The rent is cheap, especially now that Paige s.n.a.t.c.hed up the last room. Chrissy just started school, Dex is about to graduate, and since I dropped out over a year ago, I probably have the most money out of the three of us. Which isn't that much, so I have to make this roommate situation work. Then I wonder if Paige is trustworthy and if I should move my secret stash of money out from all my hiding places in my room. Maybe finally open that bank account I've been delaying. Just as I'm debating, she strolls in, dropping a box and a loud bang bounces off the walls.

"Whoa." I bend down to pick up the items sneaking out of the box. She runs over to catch something rolling toward the window. Being the gentleman I am, I rush to pick it up for her. I'm blind to what exactly I'm holding until it's in my hand. "Oh, s.h.i.t." I laugh, eyeing her.

A pink flush travels up her cheeks in seconds and she steals it from my grip. "I'll take that." She hides it behind her back, as though the embarra.s.sing situation never happened.

I purposely lean in close, and her flowery scented perfume makes my d.i.c.k twitch to life. "It's okay, Paige, just remember on those late nights, that there's something a h.e.l.l of a lot bigger a few steps down the hall."

When I step away, I notice her back straighten and I'm afraid I've offended her instead of my intention to make her want me. "You know what they say? Those who brag are the ones with the small ones." She holds up her d.a.m.n pinky in the air.

Not about to allow her to have the final word, I close the distance once again. I slowly push her pinky back down and her breathing hitches. That's right baby, I know you have a thing for the bad boys. "Let's get one thing straight before you move in. I don't exaggerate, I don't lie and if you ever do get lonely, come on down and find out." Then I leave her standing in the middle of her room probably about to collapse on her bed and finger herself.

I stop at my room to change from my mechanic's uniform into a pair of jeans and T-shirt. When I open my door, Dex is carrying another box up the stairs. Chrissy follows close behind with arms full of clothes. "Why don't you help us out here?" Chrissy sneers and I lift my eyebrow at her.

"I carried a d.a.m.n box up and went to change really quick. Lay off." If the new girl wasn't the hottest piece of a.s.s I've seen in a long time, I would have hightailed it out of the driveway before she saw me. s.h.i.tty-yes. Truthful-always.

"Well, there's more down there," she calls out over her shoulder, entering Paige's bedroom.

"Thank you all so much. The moving guys wanted a crazy amount of money to move everything actually in the house." She weaves by Chrissy and stops for a second when she comes face to face with me at the top of the stairs. That's right honey, get used to seeing this every day. "Thank you, Rob."

I say nothing, but motion with my hand for her to go down the stairs first. She smiles and does just that, giving me the view I hoped for. Her a.s.s is perfect and I can almost imagine my hands molding her flesh.

By our fourth trip, I spot Brady and Sadie crossing the street, and I inwardly cringe because the faster these boxes make it into the house, the less I'll be able to admire Paige's legs and a.s.s trekking up those stairs. I must confess I've been the polite guy, always letting her go first so I can follow behind.

Exhausted from the manual labor, I sigh when I spot six more boxes. "How much stuff can you possibly have?"

"Oh, those go in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Chrissy said I could store some stuff down there. Since you guys have dishes and everything, I don't need my kitchen stuff."

"I'll grab those and rush them down the stairs now." I practically fall to my back when I lift the box I'm a.s.suming contains the dishes. "Son of a b.i.t.c.h, who packed your s.h.i.t? No wonder the movers wanted so much money," I joke, but her face turns down before her lips straighten. For once in a long time, I wish I could shove words back in my mouth so her smile wouldn't have disappeared.

"I did." She picks up another stack of clothes and plows into the house before I give in to the foreign urge to apologize.

When Brady and Sadie reach the driveway, they automatically stuff their arms with Paige's c.r.a.p and follow the lead into the house.

"What's up, Rob?" Brady nods his head in my direction. "You ready for tonight?" Our band, The Invisibles, have a show lined up. It's been awhile since we've played and I've missed losing my twisted memories with my guitar. Due to everyone being so busy, our shows are few and far between these days with practices even farther apart. It's why I've been toying with joining another band, but after the last time I deserted the guys, I've been hesitant to bring the topic up. Brady saved my a.s.s when I returned to Western after touring with Krypto, and I'm not going to make him regret his trust in me.

"Yeah, my fingers have been itching for the strings." I veer my attention to Sadie. "Hi, Sadie. You like having the house to yourself?" She smiles, and Brady laughs, making me wonder what I'm missing.

"You have to be kidding me? She's so lonely. I used to be enough for her, but she misses her girls." From Brady's voice, I'm thinking there's more worry in his words than he intends for us to hear.

"No, that's not it." She adamantly shakes her head at me. "It's just when Brady's not home and I am, it's quiet." She shrugs and I'm kind of like Sadie, nothing is worse than a house to yourself.

"You can come over here," I offer and her head reels back.

"Really?"

I nod. "Yeah. Don't seem so shocked by my kindness." I inch closer to her. "I want Paige to think I'm a nice guy."

A smirk crosses her lips and she shakes her head. "Chrissy will kill you," she reminds me.

"That's why we'll keep it a secret." I wink and she laughs. Who would have guessed I'd ever be enjoying a conversation with Sadie Miller after the a.s.shole I was to her.

A small smile churns up her lips and I'm surprised how satisfying it is to be responsible for her happiness. I swore when Brady saved me I'd be nicer to the girl he loves, even if I hate what she comes from. My stereotype of her rich, sorority, daddy's girl proved wrong once I took the time to get to know her. She doesn't fit the mold from the money and country club she came from, but she sure does fit in our misfit of a group.

Brady and Sadie disappear upstairs and I continue straight to the bas.e.m.e.nt. Sectioning off a spot for only Paige's belongings, I notice my unopened boxes in the corner. For the first time in forever, an urge to open one triggers inside of me. I stand on the concrete floor in the middle of the bas.e.m.e.nt, dredging up what's hidden in those boxes. Memories long gone, memories that haunt me every day. Maybe I should conquer the therapist's advice and open them. Envision the good times, before I transformed myself into someone else. I step closer, my hand reaching out. My fingers linger on the rough cardboard, but when footsteps echo down the stairs, I yank my hand away and step back.

I glance up to find Paige standing in the middle of the stairs, peering down at me. Her intrigue is clear in her wounded puppy dog eyes. "I'm sorry," she says, tentatively taking each step down.

"Sorry?"

"For interrupting." She places the box down on top of her stack. "You look . . . lost."

The chick has no idea how lost.

Shaking off the past, I close the distance between us until I'm two steps away from her. Already sniffing that flowery perfume, I shift my stance. "Lost before I found you."

Thankfully, my intention to divert her works, and she finds amus.e.m.e.nt in my flirting.

"Please tell me you don't use lines like that?" She shifts backward and I allow her to gain the reprieve of my nearness, temporarily.

"No, just wanted to hear you laugh." Her laugh is as cute as the one dimple in her left cheek.

"I hate cliche pick-up lines, you know? Like, do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?" She shakes her head and I chuckle, inching one step closer.

"How about d.a.m.n girl, you've got more curves than a racetrack?" I raise my eyebrows and she laughs harder.

"Seriously?" She shakes her head.

"Heard it last weekend at a race." I'm so close to her now, there's barely any s.p.a.ce. Her eyes are an electrifying mix of brown and green, and I could quickly lose myself in her innocence. "I have to admit as cheesy as the line is, I would love to lean into your curves." I draw back and watch her cheeks turn the s.e.xiest shade of red. It's addicting, propelling her to that level of heat that it embarra.s.ses her.

"Nice, Rob." She tosses my admittance off her shoulder. I'm guessing she's not into the whole roommates slipping under covers thing.

"Remember, I never lie." My eyes slowly drink in her body from head to toe, and when I focus back on her eyes, she swallows. "What do you say you-"

"Paige, are you down there?" Chrissy's loud voice booms down the stairwell and Paige jerks back. Her reaction makes me recall when Carly and I got caught making out by her mom in soph.o.m.ore year.

"Yeah, Chrissy. Just on my way up." She steadily pa.s.ses me, but I grab her wrist, forcing her to stay by me.

When Chrissy appears midway down the stairs, my promise to her comes to the forefront. No f.u.c.king the roommate. So, I release my grip and Paige rushes up the stairs. Chrissy's eyes focus on me, and her lips do that little twisting thing she does every time she doesn't believe me. I'm caught, red-handed.

"Let's go, Chrissy. Thank you so much for helping me." She bypa.s.ses Chrissy, venturing up the stairs without so much as a glance back.

"It's no problem," Chrissy says to Paige, while she narrows her eyes at me. Then her two fingers point to her eyes and then point to me.

Jogging up the stairs, I chuckle and swing my arm around her shoulders. "Calm down, G.o.dfather." I refrain from adding that I'll keep my promise. Paige is way too tempting to stay clear of and I don't want to lie to Chrissy.

"PAIGE, PIZZA IS here!" Chrissy yells up the stairs.

Opening my door, I scream, "I'll be right down!" I shut my door to change into comfy pajama pants and a T-shirt.

My phone rings just as I have one leg into my pants, and I hop over to my phone, lying on my bed, struggling to get my other leg in my pants. I must admit the plum comforter makes the room a little more girly and homey, I think, right before I fall into the mattress.

Grabbing my phone, I check who's calling before actually answering. When her name flashes, a sigh falls from my mouth and I stare up at the ceiling. Do I really want to endure her today, right before I'm about to spend time with my new roommates? She only leaves me in a bad mood with every one of her phone calls. But knowing she'll only continue to call until I pick up, I decide I won't delay the punishment.

"Hi, Mom," I answer, sitting down on the edge of my bed.

"Hi, sweetie." I roll my eyes because she's being overly nice. Which means that she's fishing for one thing. "How is it going?"

"It's good. I'm unpacking again. How's Matty?" I pick at the lint on my pajama pants, patiently waiting for her to ask me.

"He's good. Fast asleep."

I glance at my watch, seven o'clock. "Already?"

"He didn't nap all day and collapsed in front of his chicken nuggets."

Wanting to redirect this conversation, I stand up to pace. "What do you need?"

A loud huff carries over the line. "Why do you a.s.sume I need something?" she snaps.

"Because nine out of ten calls from you, you need money. The other one is requesting my babysitting services."

"That's not true, Paige." I can just imagine her hand resting on her hip as her head rotates on her neck as though it makes the lie more believable.

"So you don't need anything?"

"Well," she pauses.

"Thought so." My shoulders drop. Maybe one day I'll be wrong about my mother's selfish intentions. Maybe one day she'll stand on her own two feet. Yeah right. After I turned eighteen and my dad was no longer mandated to pay child support, her hand turned my way. She's smart. She knows my dad deposits money into my account every month. I loathe her self-ent.i.tlement to everything that's mine. My anger toward my mom for not being able to take care of herself increases when the figures in my bank account circle through my mind. Am I even able to cover what she considers a necessity?

"Just two hundred. I'm in a bind." What's new? She's always in a life-threatening bind.

"Mom, I just moved in here. I just paid first and last month's rent, plus a security deposit." Moving to my purse, I pluck my checkbook out to examine my meager amount.

"Oh, Paige, call your dad. He'll send you some more."

Anger boils in my veins. "Who do you think gave me the first and last month's rent? He pays for my college, my car, and most other things," I rant, wishing she'd realize his obligation to me doesn't inadvertently link to her.

"He loves you, he'll give you more." Her complete disregard to my relationship with my dad p.i.s.ses me off.

"He's asking questions. Wanting to know why I moved. Mom, you can't tell Carl where I live, okay?" I attempt to be nice again before I disappear and don't tell her where the h.e.l.l I'm going. Matty's the only reason I stick around Western, otherwise, the minute Carl, Matty's dad, started showing up at my last apartment demanding money, I would have run far away from here. Carl is slimy and couldn't give a s.h.i.t about his son. All he cares about is his next fix, and in his eyes, I'm his bank roller.

"It was a slip. Plus he wanted to pick up Matty. What was I supposed to tell him?"

"You should have told him that Matty was with me and would be home the next morning. Or another idea, you could not go out all night, coming back s.h.i.t-faced, leaving him with me. Be a d.a.m.n mother for once." My anger gets the best of me because I can heal from her absence mother figure to me, but I want Matty to have more.

On cue, sniffles ring over the line and I'm not sure if she's faking or if she's truly upset about the person she's become. She's a Grammy Award-winning actress most of the time.

"I'm sorry, Paigey. I swear I'll get it together. But Matty really wants to play T-ball this year, and I just don't have the money."

"And d.i.c.khead can't pay for his son to play baseball?"

More sniffles and a blow of her nose. She's really laying it on tonight. "He barely pays child support. You think he'll pay for this? Matty's been begging me all day; supposedly he heard another kid in school talking about it."

Before she continues on and I offer more than the two hundred, I intercept. "Okay, come by tomorrow and I'll write a check to the park district." I specify to whom because cash isn't an option this time around.

"Oh great! I'll be by. Where do you live again?"

"You know what, I just remembered. I have cla.s.s early. I'll meet you at McDonalds at noon." I dodge her because I don't want her to know where I live just to relay it back to dip s.h.i.t.

"Perfect, thanks Paigey. I love you and have fun with your new roommates." Click. The line goes dead and I press the red b.u.t.ton on my screen then throw the phone on my bed.

Investigating my checkbook balance again, I whimper to myself because after my mom's loan, I either ask my dad to deposit more money into my account, get a job, or starve. Not wanting to ask my dad for anything more, I opt to find a job. Tomorrow, I'll search after I give my mom the money. Hopefully I find something fast.

Grabbing some bills from my wallet, I jog down the stairs, hearing the laughter floating in from the kitchen. Jealousy smacks me in the face with their close friendships. Ever since I was younger, I struggled with forming true friends that weren't in it for themselves. Having your father be the lead guitarist for the oldest rock 'n' roll band does that.

Speaking of lead guitarists, I stop at the bottom of the oak railing staircase, noticing Rob emerging from the kitchen.

When he spots me, my pulse speeds up as I watch his eyes roam up and down my body. "Nice pants." He laughs and I glance down realizing the ones I scrambled to toss on. Ugh, I need to upgrade my lounging wear from 'Bacon makes everything better' pajama pants.

"It does." I shrug, proud of them nonetheless.

"I'll try that next time, but I promise nothing makes s.e.x better than me." He winks and I grip the railing to hold myself up. "But we can try Bacon in the mix to test if the theory is true."

This guy extracts laughs out of me every time his mouth opens. "Trust me, Bacon makes everything better," I repeat the text splattered on my pants. "Maybe if you fry up a pan of bacon, you'd have a chance with me." I flirt, sliding past him.

He lightly cups my elbow and I shift toward him. "Don't tease." His eyes smolder and I'm about ten seconds from letting him kidnap me up these stairs with bacon or not.

Every muscle in my body stays in place, not wanting his fingers to flee my skin. "I'm a lot of things, but I'm not a tease." Truth be told, Rob scares me and thrills me at the same time. I want him to manipulate my body however he wants, but he's someone I could fall for and from what I've observed, he'd break my heart. The old saying is true. Daughters fall for people like their daddies. Guys in bands, especially tattooed guitarists, pique my interest every d.a.m.n time. Just like good ole dad. It's sick really.