Page 12 of Ordinary Secrets (Secrets Trilogy #1)

12

ARELLA

“The Big Ka-booms?” My stomach aches from all the laughing.

Ever since Trey stopped frolicking around the grass like he’s a cartoon character, he’s been telling me funny stories about the early days of his band.

“Yep, that was our first unofficial band name. Kevin and Marcus came up with it. They were arguing over whose dick was bigger. Marcus said, and I quote, ‘Bro, I’m Black. When I take mine out, it falls and goes ka-boom.’”

I could sit here all night listening to this man tell me stories. “How did you end up becoming Flames in the Night?”

“The brains of the band, of course. Liz and Emmy were our final additions. They wanted a name that represented our band’s diversity. Kevin is half Chinese, and Liz is half Hispanic. Marcus is Black, and Emmy’s family is from the UK. Liz said that our diversity makes us stand out. What stands out better than fire in darkness?”

“You boys are so lucky you have Liz and Emmy around.”

“No kidding. Without them, we’re a—” Trey’s head snaps to the right. A frown replaces his smile as he glares off into the trees.

I glance that way but don’t see anything to be frowning about. “Everything okay?”

His head whips back to me. “Uh, yeah.” Forcing a half smile, he says, “What were you saying?”

“I wasn’t. You were.”

“Oh, right. I was saying that without the girls, we’re a mess.” His head snaps to the right again. This time, his face twists like there’s something sour in the air. Under his breath, he grumbles something. It’s so quiet, the only words I catch are “ignore it.”

Ignore what?

For a moment, we sit in silence. Trey glares at his water glass with a crumpled look on his face like he’s contemplating life—hard. He must come to some sort of decision, because with a creak of the wicker, he’s out of his chair with his wallet out.

After tossing three hundred-dollar bills onto the table, he says, “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

And just like that, he’s gone. He doesn’t even grab his jacket before sprinting away as if the restaurant is on fire.

Where is he going? Curiosity takes me over as I grab my purse and his jacket and run after him. It probably looks like we’re pulling a dine-and-dash, but I’m confident those three bills will cover double what we ordered and a hefty tip.

When I catch up to Trey on the sidewalk, he’s glowering at the groups of people strolling the busy street.

“Are you okay?”

He jumps and flips around. “I thought I said to stay at the table.”

“Yeah, but?—”

He doesn’t let me finish. Roughly, he snatches his jacket from me and shoves his arms into it. “Stay here. Please. I’ll be right back.”

Without waiting for me to respond, he runs off again, zigzagging around pedestrians with the speed of a wild animal chasing its prey. I run behind him, a little less aggressively, spitting out apologies to the people with crooked faces left behind in his path.

I almost lose him when he turns a corner down a backstreet. At the end of the alley is shouting and laughing. Three teenage boys stand over a smaller teenage boy on the ground, kicking him. Before I can process anything else, a loud voice yells, “Stop!”

The three teenagers jerk their heads up. The bulkiest one steps forward with his hands up in surrender. “Chill. We’re just playin’ a game.”

Trey gestures toward the boy on the ground. “It doesn’t look like he’s having fun.”

“No worries, dude,” the tallest teenager says. “We’re all friends.”

Trey turns to the boy, who’s still covering his face with his arms. “You okay, buddy?”

The boy sits up, making a movement with his hands, and mouths something.

“He’s fine,” the bulky teenager says. “It’s just a game.”

Trey scowls, then moves his hands around too. The kid on the ground widens his eyes as he picks himself up. He rubs his ribs a little, then moves his hands again. It takes me a moment to realize that he’s using sign language.

When Trey communicates back the same way, the three bullies drop their jaws. I do too. I had no idea Trey knew sign language.

After he signs back and forth with the boy for a moment, he turns to the bullies with a grimace. “Get outta here.”

“Look, dude, you don’t understa?—”

“Go!”

It doesn’t take more than a second for the teenagers to realize that they don’t have a choice. Their shoes stomp against the pavement as they dash off. Trey’s gaze follows them until his eyes land on me. His expression turns stony. I wish I would have stayed at the restaurant, if only to have avoided that look.

The Deaf boy plucks the lid off a garbage can and chucks it. It clanks to the ground with an echo. After some digging, he wrestles out a backpack from the trash, pats it off, then throws a strap over his shoulder.

Turning to Trey, he signs something. I don’t know anything more than the ASL alphabet and baby signs from working at the daycare. All I catch is the boy saying thank you. The rest is lost on me.

As I approach Trey’s side, he gestures at me and signs my name in letters. He does it so fast, I barely catch that it was my name.

“Arella, this is...” Trey pauses and signs as he says, “Sorry, what’s your name?”

The boy moves his fingers so fast, I can’t understand.

“Lucas,” Trey says.

I wave. “Hi, Lucas.”

The boy waves back and signs to me.

“Nice to meet you,” Trey interprets. “You have a beautiful name.”

“Thank you,” I say and sign.

Trey turns to the boy as he signs, “Don’t allow those boys to haze you anymore. It’s not worth it, okay? Do you need a ride home?”

With a shake of his head and another thank-you, Lucas limps out of the alley.

Once he’s gone, Trey shoves his hands into his pockets. “You ready to go, babe?”

My insides dance at the sound of him calling me babe . I used to cringe whenever my ex called me that. He only used pet names when he wanted something. Or when we were around other men. Or when he was apologizing for the night before. Hearing Trey call me babe doesn’t elicit that fight-or-flight reaction from my core. I actually like the sound of it.

As we speed back to LA, Trey talks my ear off about everything except what just happened. This entire evening, he’s been asking me buttloads of questions about me and barely talked about himself unless I asked a question first. Now that he’s suddenly openly sharing, it makes me think he’s filling the silence just to ensure I don’t have a chance to ask him about Lucas.

I’m barely paying attention to his words. My mind is reeling about how he knew a teenage boy was getting beat up in an alley—from the restaurant.

“How do you know sign language?” I ask, interjecting into whatever story he’s telling me about a time he used to live in Georgia. Or maybe it was Oregon.

Trey clears his throat. “Uh, Elliott, the kid I used to mentor... He was Deaf. I took private lessons so I could communicate with him.”

“How did you know Lucas was in trouble?”

His fingers curl tighter around the steering wheel as he swallows. “I thought I asked you to stay at the restaurant.”

“Sorry, I didn’t listen.”

He scoffs loudly. “I see that. I asked you to stay because I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I didn’t.”

“That’s not the point.” He breathes out, all exasperated. “Can we just forget that ever happened?”

Moments like these with my ex always turned into fights, until eventually, my choices were to keep quiet or get smacked. I really don’t want to fight with Trey. I don’t think he’d hit me, but I miss the lighthearted conversations we’ve been having all night.

Playfully, I lower my voice to a whisper. “You can just admit that you’re Superman. I can keep a secret.”

My tactic works, because Trey perks up, laughing. “I’m not Superman.”

“So, you’re Spider-Man, then? You’ve got Spidey senses that tell you when someone’s in trouble?”

He chuckles lightly. “Not even close.”

For the rest of the car ride, I don’t mention Lucas again, even though I want to, because knowing things like that isn’t normal.

As Trey pulls into the parking lot of my apartment, I subtly glance around for his car. When I don’t see it, I let out a breath of relief. Day forty and counting. Maybe he’s done stalking me...

“Did you have a good time?” Trey asks after he parks his vehicle.

I offer him a genuine smile. “I did.”

That was the best dinner I’ve had in a long time. Plus, I haven’t laughed that much since, well... before my ex. I hate that I allowed him to take away my happiness for so long.

“Thanks again, Trey. Tonight was fun.” It was so fun that a part of me doesn’t want to leave. I’m enjoying his presence, and the way he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room who matters. Unfortunately, this was a one-time thing, and as much as I don’t want to go, I have to.

I’m about to grip the door handle when a firm palm on my shoulder pulls me back.

“Hold on a sec. I didn’t get a chance to ask you out again.”

All the air leaves my lungs as I screw my eyes shut. The world around me stills. The hand gripping my shoulder is the one that used to bruise my face. It’s the one that used to control me in ways that still haunt me.

He yells at me. “You can’t wear dresses like this, you whore!”

I try to get away, but his fingers claw into me like talons wrapped around a mouse.

“Don’t you dare walk away when I’m talking to you! We’re not done!”

“Arella?” Trey’s gentle voice pulls me back. His hand is gone. It’s in his lap now, away from me, not hurting me. “You okay?”

Nodding, I force a smile.

Judging by the way Trey crinkles his forehead together, he’s not buying it. “You sure?”

“I’m fine.” My voice shrinks so much, even I don’t believe it.

Slowly, he leans into me, and I catch a whiff of his scent. He’s wearing a sweet cologne that smells nothing like Nathan. Usually, my ex smells of gin and cigarettes.

In almost a whisper, Trey asks, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

I glue my lips together and shake my head. I can’t talk about it. Not with him. I’ll start crying. Talking about it is like reliving it, and I’ve already lived it for enough years to never want to do it again.

I feel him staring at me. He’s probably debating whether or not to push this subject further. Like how he didn’t want to explain Lucas, I don’t want to explain this.

Finally, Trey leans back and smiles warmly. “I’d love to see you again.”

My voice comes out soft. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

His face drops. I wait for him to lash out at me and yell at me for not giving him his way. I wait for him to call me a bitch because I’m being “disobedient.”

Instead, he tenderly asks, “Can you explain why?”

Because I’m starting to like you. I can’t admit that.

Because my ex-boyfriend is a psycho and will scare you off like he did the last guy—with a knife. Telling Trey that will prompt more questions.

Because Nathan is still under the impression that he can control my life. That will make me sound pathetic. I hate acknowledging that my three-year mistake still has power over me. Not as much as he used to—just enough to keep me fearful.

I’ve been doing everything I can to cut ties with him. Telling him off has only made things worse. Never leaving my apartment isn’t feasible, and never coming home is the same. I’ve tried looking for a new place to live. Unfortunately, all the other apartments I’ve toured are smaller for twice the rent. He’d find me anyway. Filing a restraining order did nothing more than get his deputy chief father involved. After that, it’s like the entire police force was on his side.

Am I ever going to get my life back? I hate that I can’t spend one night out with a guy without my past huffing down my neck. Tonight was the first time in a while that I’ve felt some peace. I felt safe . Being in Long Beach made me feel like Nathan couldn’t find me. Being with Trey made me forget about him altogether. I can’t allow my ex to keep doing this to me.

Eventually, things need to change. I just wish I knew how to make it happen.