All Things Pretty by M. Leighton Read Free Book Online Page B

what
I’m making for dinner tonight?”
    Travis turns to look out the window,
shrugging his thin shoulders in a silent reply.
    “It’s one of your top four favorites.”
    “Doesn’t matter. I won’t be there,” he tells
me sullenly.
    “Why? Where will you be?”
    “I’m going to Trip’s.”
    Alarm bells sound in the back of my mind.
“Why is it that every night that I don’t have plans with Lance, you
make some with Trip?”
    He shrugs again. “He called and asked me to
come over to game.”
    Trip is one of Lance’s friends. At first, I
was so happy that Travis was being willingly social that I
didn’t think to question it, but as time has passed, I’ve begun to
think that Trip’s influence is not a good thing. Then I found out
that Trip is a felon. Just what Travis needs in his life.
    Not.
    Maybe I should’ve nipped it in the bud
sooner, because now Travis maintains that Trip is a true friend and
I’m afraid to push too hard to get Trip out of his life. Travis
cracked once before and we nearly lost everything in the aftermath.
And we didn’t have all that much left to lose.
    I swallow a sigh. One more in my long, long
list of regrets.
    “Travis, if he–”
    “Don’t start with me, Tommi ,” he
snaps flatly, still not looking at me, not meeting my eyes. A habit
I know is exacerbated when he’s feeling guilty.
    “I worry about you, Travis.” I keep my voice
as calm as I can.
    “Worry about yourself. You’ve got enough
problems for both of us.”
    Which is true. What Travis doesn’t
understand is that it’s us against the world. A harsh world that
doesn’t give a damn and refuses to give us an inch of leeway. He
knows the facts, but I don’t think he has a very good grasp on the
consequences. I don’t try to change that because the last thing he
needs is a heavy burden to carry around, especially one that he
can’t do anything about. No, this load is mine to haul and it’s
best that way. What’s done is done. My only choice is to go forward
smarter.
    So I am.
    I’m planning my every step, my every word,
my every breath. And my plan will work. It has to.
    I make a left onto our street. For the first
time since my brother got in the car, I look into my rearview
mirror. I see Sig following behind. Not too close. Not too far
either. Despite the way I abhor being spied upon, I find a strange
comfort in his presence, even though he’s only trailing behind me
in a separate vehicle. And the comfort that I draw from him is
arguably the most concerning thing of all.
     

CHAPTER TWELVE- SIG
     
    I park discreetly across the street from
Tommi’s house. I don’t want to bother her, but I have to keep Tonin
happy for the moment, too. Plus, I’m still curious as to what she’s
up to.
    I stare at the white, clapboard house,
probably all of eight hundred to a thousand square feet, max. It
looks shoddy and rundown, like most of the houses in the area. The
driveway is cracked, but there are no weeds. I can see light brown
stuff in the gaping crevices, though, which makes me think they’ve
been on the receiving end of some weed killer in recent days.
    If I hadn’t moved in a block and a half
away, I would never have pictured her in a place like this. This
is, without a doubt, the very definition of a questionable
neighborhood. It shocks the shit out of me that her car, which
looks ridiculous sitting outside, doesn’t get trashed or jacked. Of
course, it’s likely that a lot of the element that lives nearby
knows who she is. And who the car belongs to.
    I think back to what I read in her very
short file. Tommi Lawrence. No middle initial. Twenty-four years
old. Graduated high school six years ago with shitty grades. Didn’t
get a driver’s license until she was nineteen. No college, no jobs,
no priors. Father’s in the wind, mother’s drawing disability
checks. One brother, one sister. Not much else. Oh, and she’s
screwing a dickhole drug dealer. There’s that.
    Just the thought of her with