Page 15 of Second Sets Omnibus

“Shut up,” I groan, shoving her out the door.

She cackles more, straightening her purse. “I’ll see ya later, bestie. You think Bessy will start?” She raises her brow when I lock the door and snorts.

“Bessy better start, or I’m trading her ass in.” I gesture toward my car, Bessy—who I, in fact, can’t afford to trade in or get rid of.

She's my ride or die. Well, more the die part. Poor Bes is resting on her last leg. But, hey—she gets me from point A to point B, usually with no complaints. She’s big and bad and eats a lot of gas, but I can’t complain about my nine-hundred-dollar car and my pride and joy. There’s no better feeling than saving up for something and finally getting it.

“Babes, if that pile ever shits out on you, I can take you home,” Leon says, leaning against his car with a cigarette hanging from his frowning lips. Taking it from his mouth, he blows smoke into the air. “We’re neighbors, after all,” he grumbles, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Thanks, L,” I say with a smile and wave him on.

“We could be like the cool kids and carpool,” he suggests with a grin, tossing his used cigarette to the ground and squishing it with the tip of his shoe. “Think about it. I’ll see ya at home. Be safe, yeah?” he says, piling into his car when I give him a thumbs up and drives off.

“Love ya, bitch,” Ode says, coming in to hug and squeezing me tight. “I’m going to stay at Ricky’s tonight. But I’ll see you tomorrow?”

I snort, squeezing her back. “Quicky Ricky again?” I murmur into her neck, reveling in her familiar hug.

Odette and Leon are far more than just my neighbors and coworkers. They are my brother and sister. We may not be blood but fuck that. They’re the closest thing I have to a family in this hell hole, and I’ll cling to them for the rest of my life.

“Quicky Ricky,” she murmurs, confirming my suspicions.

What started as a one-night stand from an internet hookup app has now turned into a full-blown relationship she’s not ready to admit to yet. Ode grins when her phone lights up, and another car pulls into the lot a second later. Ode squeals, waves goodbye, and runs to the passenger’s side.

“Heya, Ricky!” I shout, waving to him, receiving a small wave out the window before they pull away from the empty parking lot, leaving me there to watch it all go dark.

I sigh, getting into my car with a prayer running through my mind. Immediately, like my momma taught me, I lock my doors and set my purse on the passenger's side, praying to the car gods that Bessy starts without a fight.

Settling into the warm driver’s seat, my entire body tingles when my mind returns to the rough quickie. The phantom feel of his fingers tightly gripping my hips sends goosebumps skittering across my skin. An ache between my legs has me closing my eyes and wishing he’d come back for round two.

Oh, the rocking we could do in Bessy. Fuck. I run my fingers over my swollen lips and sigh at the feel of his demanding mouth overtaking mine in desperation. I must be a glutton for punishment if I'm aching for Kieran to come back and rock my world. Is the heartache worth seeing him again?

Throwing my head back, I let out a silent scream. Fuck. Why do I always do this to myself? Huh? I can’t get attached. Not again. He’ll chew me up and spit me out before I can say, please another, sir, just like last time. From now on, I'm staying away from the entire band for as long as possible until I can get myself in check. No more bands. No more bad boys. I'm swearing them off from now on. No more, I swear.

I shake my head and attempt to start my car, only to receive a worn-down, grinding noise. I narrow my eyes on the dashboard and shove my foot into the gas pedal, pumping it. Again, I try to start Bessy, but she gives me nothing but fumes and sputters.

“No! No! Bessy, don’t do this to me now,” I grumble, rubbing a hand over the steering wheel. All I get in return is the sound of her slowly dying and nothing. “Great,” I mumble, leaning my head back in defeat.

With no other choice, I shove my one working earbud into my ear and begin my journey home in the mid-August muggy heat on foot. Sure, I could call Leon and beg him to come back and get me, but he's probably already at home and settled into bed. I'd hate to drag him out to fetch little old me. Besides, the middle of the night is the most peaceful time to walk.

Sometimes, I need my music, the open air, and nothing to worry about. Sure, there could be a creeper lurking in the shadows, ready to haul me off to his basement, but from the looks of the abandoned sidewalks, there isn't—hopefully. It's just me and the music playing the soothing melodies in my ear, carrying my worries away.

Ma and I have lived in the same two-bedroom apartment gifted by the government since my dad decided he was done with us and kicked us out, forcing us out of Cali and back to her hometown. It was all she could afford on nothing, and we’ve never been able to leave. It’s been good to us and has let us thrivein a bad situation. Ma works her ass off on nights down at the local strip club dancing, but it's never been entirely enough.

Walking down the cracked and disintegrating sidewalk, I let my music take me over. Goosebumps pour over my skin, and I momentarily shut my eyes, allowing the tunes to infect my soul. Music is the life force keeping me going and alive. I'd fade into nothing with no meaning if I didn't have it. It’s the thing that accompanies me everywhere; no one can take it away from me, not even money. My greatest joy is looking up at a stage in the distance and feeling every ounce of emotion dropping from their words and notes. It completes me.

I sigh in relief when I make it back to my apartment building in one piece. Without any drama, well—besides my stupid car not starting. Some nights on my lonely drive home, the streets are empty. Some nights, they're full of neighborhood people doing whatever they’re doing in the middle of the night. I'd be a liar if I said I lived in a safe area. But my home has always been good to me. And the people? They're just trying to make it in the crazy thing called life. No matter the means.

As I make my way to my ground-floor apartment, I raise a brow at Leon, who rests against his door with his eyes on me. He nods once, throwing the cigarette down, and shakes his head.

“Bess not make the trip?” he asks, reaching into his pocket for his key.

“Thought it’d be a good night for a walk,” I mumble, rubbing my wrinkled forehead. Exhaustion sweeps through me when my eyes land on my apartment door. Just behind that barrier are my bathtub and my bed.

“Goodnight, you stubborn ass woman,” Leon says, inserting his key into his mother's apartment.

“Night, Korrine,” I shout when the door opens, and I grin as her stern eyes set on me, and she nods.

“Night, child. Have a good first day tomorrow. Come for dinner before you go to that second job of yours and tell me all about it,” she says in a tired voice, face drooping from the lack of sleep. But God love her. She always stays up to ensure we all come home safely from the bar and still greets the sun in the morning to cook breakfast for the family. She always looks out for us.