Chapter three
"Hey, chica," Sherry walked up to Lizzy later that night just as Lizzy was refilling her drink.
Sherry was Cuban but was often mistaken for being white because her skin was so light. Lizzy herself was darker than Sherry and, coincidently, with her tan skin and black curly hair, she was often mistaken for being some kind of Spanish or Latin descent. After witnessing how bothered Sherry became whenever someone directed their Spanish to Lizzy, she theorized that Sherry often took any opportunity to speak in Spanish, or Spanglish, to remind everyone of the fact that she was Cuban. Lizzy didn't see what the big deal was, Sherry herself had made the mistake when they first met and she had greeted her in Spanish.
Her father told her it was an Italian influence in their blood when Lizzy pointed out how much she differed from her sister Jane, who was the classic American beauty with her light skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes. Their mother looked more or less like an older version of Jane, though her hair was sandier and she was a bit shorter.
Incidentally, Lizzy knew almost no Spanish besides a few words and phrases she had picked up from the Uptown Riders and Sherry herself, most of which she would not repeat in polite society.
"Hey. I didn't see you come in," Lizzy greeted the girl.
She had a thing going with Rob, so they had been in each other's company a lot more lately. She wasn't so bad, but they didn't really have much in common. Sherry's goal in life was to be with a guy who had the means and inclination to take her clubbing every night, or, failing that, some kind of party where she knew enough people to swap stories with. Consequently, her favorite talking points consisted of the latest neighborhood gossip and which club was the hottest at the moment. To give her credit, she asked Lizzy about her classes whenever they met but seemed to lose interest if Lizzy went into too much detail.
Despite her temper and loud opinions, Sherry was generally pretty easy to hang out with. They would probably never be best friends, but she didn't have to make an effort with Sherry to keep her happy. Telling her how cute she looked in that outfit and giving the right kind of responses to whatever the latest news was was sufficient enough conversation for Sherry, and no effort had to be made to think of inane topics to discuss.
At this point, Lizzy had drunk enough to feel relaxed and forget the troubles of her day. Since starting college, she rarely went out on school nights; even on the weekends, it was uncommon for her to party during the semester. She heard too many stories of friends who found it easy to slip into academic probation from one too many nights out partying with friends, so made an effort to focus her attention and not get behind.
Sherry had stumbled into Lizzy when she turned to lean against the counter, and Lizzy felt a splash of whatever she was drinking fall on her arm. She wiped her arm on her jeans just as Sherry was passing her a joint. Praying it wasn't laced with anything, Lizzy took a long drag, then handed it back. She never had anything besides weed, but at a party like this, there was a good chance the pot was laced with something stronger. She would never crash at Wickham's, and Rob was already taking Sherry on his bike when he left. It wasn't that far of a trip home and she had made it safely before, but she wanted to be aware enough by the time she had to walk to the bus stop.
"Wow, that guy is bien bueno," Sherry commented.
"Who?" Lizzy wondered, only half interested. Despite being Rays girlfriends, Sherry thought every other guy was bien bueno.
"I don't know him. Wickham's new puppy," Sherry answered Lizzy's inquiry. She was leaning against the counter staring at someone behind Lizzy; she took a drag then passed the joint back
It was a joke they kept between themselves. All these young guys hanging on Wickham's every word, jumping at the chance to talk to him, eager to run off and do any task he requested - they reminded Sherry and Lizzy of dogs nipping at his heels. Lizzy turned to see this new guy only to discover it was actually Darcy; he was lounging in a leather recliner by the couch where Wickham was telling them all a story, half-listening to Wickham and half concentrating on his beer. She sputtered at his appearance, hurryingly passing the joint back to Sherry. Though she had been keeping an eye out for him, he must have slipped in when she wasn't paying attention.
He looked good, about as far from a cop in appearance as he could get. He seemed a bit stiff, but his eyes were bloodshot and there were a few empty beers around him. Like most new guys that showed up without someone to introduce him, there was a certain level of aversion to his presence, although someone did pass him a joint. Lizzy was shocked to see him taking a drag before awkwardly passing it off, but she relaxed slightly at the sight. Of course, he was there to blend in and wasn't about to bust them all for something so minor as smoking pot.
"Damn," she said, turning to mimic Sherry's stance as she tentatively took the joint back from her.
He had changed his shirt and pants but kept the jacket. His new shirt had several holes in it and his jeans seemed to be stained with oil. She had seen the same stains on someone who worked on cars all day and guessed he was going for a mechanic look. Wickham had a chop shop downtown, but Lizzy doubted he would hire some outsider no one knew just because he showed up at his party. Darcy may have figured the same thing because at the moment he looked put out that Wickham wasn't giving him the time of day.
It was like the rougher he looked, the hotter he was. She wasn't going to analyze the reason behind that with a ten-foot pole.
"Hey, didya hear about Sammy?" Sherry suddenly changed the subject, pulling her attention from the undercover detective.
"Sammy?" Lizzy questioned, interested but still keeping one eye on the detective. "Little kid, that always walks with a limp?"
"Uh-huh, that's him," Sherry nodded exaggeratedly, blinking slowly. "Except he ain't so little anymore" she added with a giggle. Lizzy wondered how much she'd had to drink and if this story was going to make sense. She would generally let Sherry babble, except she knew Sammy. He was a kid from the youth center, a few years younger than her who she tutored in higher-level math. He was something of a genius, although the last she heard he was doing jobs for Wickham and college had become a distant dream.
"What about him?" Lizzy prompted.
"Who?" Sherry looked confused.
"Sammy," Lizzy replied slowly, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.
"Oh!" Sherry grabbed her arm in excitement. "I forgot what we were talkin' about," she laughed. "Okay, so Sammy was working for Wickham, only he tells Wickham he doesn't know how to do his math good, or something like that and you know how Wickham took that."
Lizzy winced, feeling sorry for the kid; Wickham wanted to be the top dog, the smartest and the toughest. Any challenge to either his brains or his power was met with swift and often cruel retribution. Unfortunately, Sherry wasn't done with her story. She lowered her voice for this next part- it seemed even as drunk and high as she was that she knew being overheard by Wickham would be dangerous.
"Only Wickham goes and sends him off to sell past 12th street, and he got jumped by someone in the Families and lost all Wickham's product, plus some cash, then goes and blames the poor kid for it."
"What?" Lizzy asked, irritated. "What was he supposed to do against the Family in their own territory? They never travel alone, which is why they never get jumped. Wickham should take a lesson from them and stop sending his guys off as targets all the time."
Sherry looked around before nodding enthusiastically, forgetting herself by raising her voice a little, "If it were my Rob getting jumped by those inbred comemierdas I would tell Wickham to get some guys together and beat the mierda out of them."
Lizzy shrugged, sipping her beer to mask her silence on the matter. She felt it was impolitic to voice her own opinion when she had more friends in the Family and Sherry had more friends in the Riders and Wickham's crew.
"What happened to Sammy?"
"He's out until he can come up with some replacement cash, or product. Wickham had him working for free for a while, but the hoops he had that kid running through," Sherry paused to shake her head. "He finally wised up and realized Wickham would rather see him dead than have him back to sell."
"Damn," Lizzy commented.
She glanced at Wickham grinning stupidly at the mass of men and women around him hanging on his every word. She was suddenly glad that Darcy was there to take him down. A crew was supposed to look out for one another and Wickham was supposed to ensure their safety, not play games with their lives. Living life as a drug dealer was dangerous enough without your boss setting you up to get jumped so he had an excuse to punish you for taking a stab at his ego.
She glanced back at Darcy, wondering how long it would take him to get an introduction to Wickham. It was almost impossible without someone on the inside, and even then Wickham had more guys than he had product. His chopshop just south of 12th was doing pretty well, but that was even harder to get into because the money was better.
"Keep it in your pants, Liz. It's not like you'd ever make a move," Sherry smirked at her, breaking Lizzy out of her trance-like stare at Darcy.
She had to stop doing that.
Sherry couldn't make a move even if she wanted to. A boyfriend was never much of a deterrent for a little on-the-side flirting, but because she was currently dating Rob, as a girlfriend of someone in his gang, she had to follow Wickham's example and abide by the no contact rule as well. Lizzy was not so restrained. Suddenly, an idea formed in her inebriated mind.
"Fifty bucks," Lizzy challenged.
It was times like these when both Sherry and she had had a few drinks, that their tentative friendship easily became strained. Sherry had a tendency to push Lizzy's buttons; she was fond of letting Lizzy know exactly what she thought of a college kid hanging around a bunch of drug dealers and petty thieves. Lizzy liked to think of her as simply jealous, but that still didn't stop her from getting tired of Sherry talking to her like she didn't live in this neighborhood like she was some danger addict who comes down to the slums looking for a thrill.
"Fifty bucks for what?" Sherry asked confused.
"I bet you fifty bucks I'll go up to that guy and…" Lizzy paused. She promised not to blow his cover but paying him any attention carried a certain level of danger attached to it. While she thought, Sherry laughed.
"You can't even think of anything to do with him," she guffawed. "Poor sweet innocent Lizzy. He is obviously too much for you to handle."
"I bet I get him to kiss me within… five minutes," Lizzy put a hand on her hip, turning towards Sherry with a challenging look on her face.
"Please," she flicked her hair behind her shoulder in a dismissive manner, obviously not thinking twice about the challenge. "You're on," Sherry scoffed.
"Let's see the cash," Lizzy held out her hand.
"Why? You going to pay him to kiss you?" Sherry laughed, taking a swig of her beer.
"I'm not making the effort with some puppy if I'm not getting something out of it," Lizzy replied, crossing her arms.
"Oh like it's such a punishment I'm sure," Sherry grinned, eyeing Darcy once more.
"Just make sure you have the cash," Lizzy ordered, putting her own drink down and stepping away from the counter.
"Come on. We both know I'll be the one fifty bucks richer, miss goodie two shoes," Sherry replied with an eye roll.
Lizzy headed over to where Darcy was still lounging. She knew this was probably stupid and dangerous, but she was feeling buzzed, competitive, angry at Wickham, and a little bit like she wanted to dance on the line of stupid behavior tonight. What would he do? What would he say? What would she say? For all her bravado, she wondered if she really had the nerve to do whatever the hell she was planning on doing.
"Hey there," she said, putting her right arm on the top of his chair and looking down at him.
He looked up at her, his face a perfect mask of calm curiosity. There were at least five beers around that were his, and she had definitely seen him smoking pot; beyond that, she had no idea how high he was right now, or what kind of high, if any. He was calm, but still carried a level of stiffness about him. She imagined that even if there weren't an unspoken rule to stay away from outsiders, his closed-off attitude would deter most from approaching him. She would have eyed him from afar if it weren't for the fact that she knew he would be open to her presence.
"Hey," he replied, his voice low. She hesitated. Now what? Okay, think of him as if you've never met.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Will," he said after a hesitation.
"Will," she smiled, trying it out. "Nice to meet you," she held out her hand and he took it with a firm shake. His hands were warm and dry, and he didn't relinquish his grip.
"And you?" He asked, raising his right eyebrow in that almost familiar way; it always seemed to draw her attention to his scar.
"Elizabeth," she replied, then glanced back at Sherry who not so subtly tapped her wrist when she saw Lizzy turn. "So…" she said, leaning in closer and talking so low that she was practically mouthing the words "You get a chance to look around yet?"
"Elizabeth," he growled a low warning, all pretense of friendliness dissolved.
She grinned; this guy she knew. Somehow he was easier to be around when he was scowling. Maybe it was simply the fact that when he smiled she remembered how handsome he was, which in turn reminded her of how little he thought of her appearance that first day they met when he totally rebuffed her. When he scowled, she felt challenged; like she wanted to push his buttons to see what he would do. Did that say something about her? Was she some kind of masochist? Luckily, she never felt this urge to risk life and limb to see how far she could poke an angry bear before. She took her hand back from his grip and sat on the arm of the chair, leaning close.
"Listen. You do me a favor, and I'll give you a great excuse to poke around Wickham's office," Lizzy offered, her voice just as low.
He looked up at her, thinking. She continued to stare into his serious eyes, but the longer he stayed silent, the more uncomfortable she became. She just started to lean back when he nodded subtly. "What's the favor?"
"Kiss me," she breathed out in a rush and he actually looked startled. She counted that as a win, despite the flush she felt rise to her cheeks.
"What?" he sputtered.
"Come on, you heard me. And like, in the next minute or it doesn't count. That way, we-"
She was going to explain the rest of her plan; she felt pretty proud of it, actually, considering she came up with it off the top of her head. She would tell him how they could sneak off together on the pretense of finding a quiet corner of the house to be alone in, how she could show him where Wickham kept his drugs, and probably some more incriminating evidence – a hiding spot she knew of only because Rob had been so impressed he had let it slip one day, and lastly how he should probably just pick a fight with the toughest looking guys here because that would be the only way without an introduction to get Wickham's attention.
She didn't get a chance to say any of this, however, because he leaned up and kissed her, right in the middle of her sentence. His lips were the perfect combination of firm and soft and despite the empty beer bottles that surrounded him, he tasted like coffee. It was tame, as kisses go, but she still felt her heart beating a fast rhythm in her chest at the feeling of his lips on hers.
"Hey, hey, hey," a voice interrupted them and Darcy pulled back. Lizzy sat up and turned towards the voice to see Wickham smirking at them and any pleasure she was feeling quickly dissipated as she felt her stomach drop. "Our little sister kissing on some stranger, now I've seen everything."
It was a nickname some guys around town had given her when she was younger, but Wickham had only moved here about three years ago and couldn't possibly know why people called her that. She didn't like the possessive way he referred to her, but by the look in his eye he was doped up on more than just alcohol and one of the main rules she lived by was to not confront someone hopped up on drugs.
"You two know each other or something?" Wickham leaned forward, all the more dangerous by his interest. "If I'd have known this guy was a friend of yours, I would've been a little more welcoming."
This was the moment she had feared would happen when she walked over here. She had promised not to blow his cover, but she also knew he was looking for a way into Wickham's inner circle, to get whatever evidence he would need to put Wickham away. That was fine with Lizzy; she had no love for this new dealer who was building up a crew in her neighborhood and was linked, according to the detective, to the disappearance of two women. It was partly Sherry's story about Sammy that had driven her to Darcy in the first place. However, she had also survived in this rough neighborhood by knowing exactly how far to stick her neck out.
"I know everyone in this neighborhood, you know that," she smiled at Wickham. He laughed, and others around him followed suit a second behind him.
"So you do know him?" he pressed, reaching in his pocket to pull out a bag. He began to pull some weed out and roll up a joint.
"This guy?" She looked down at him, gauging his reaction.
He was as cool as ever, looking up at her; she had the feeling this wasn't his first tough situation. She was in it now; she had gotten everyone's attention by coming over here and now all that was left was to think of something easy, knowing whatever she said would have to be backed up and proven.
"He goes to my school. Told him to stop by, but I didn't think he'd actually come."
"What can I say?" Darcy shrugged, a small smile on his face as he sat up a little and took her hand, his touch light. It gave her goosebumps. "When a pretty girl tells you to come to a party, you come."
There were a few catcalls at this, and even Wickham laughed.
"You've got a set on you, that's for sure. I was beginning to think Lizzy didn't even like guys," he lit the joint and took a puff, bypassing the men between them to hand it to Will. "What did you say your name was?"
"Will. Will O'Mara," he said, leaning over to take the proffered joint.
She had just seen it happen, so Lizzy tried not to look surprised as he took a long drag, holding it in for a while and then letting it out slowly. He passed it to her next. She assessed the situation she was in. She was practically sitting in the lap of a police detective who had just passed her an illegal drug. As much as she'd like to refuse, everyone's eyes were on her. She took her hit and passed the joint to the next closest guy.
"So you're a college elite like our Lizzy here, eh?" Wickham leaned back slightly but kept his eyes trained on Lizzy and Will. "You must be pretty smart."
"Not that smart," Lizzy laughed lightly, leaning more into Will. She tucked her legs closer and he reflectively brought an arm up and around her to steady her. "He cheated off me in Math," she finished, looking down at him with a teasing smile, hoping he took the hint.
Her statement and his sheepish look caused another round of laughter. The story came easily to her – Wickham hated anyone that had the potential to be smarter than him, so she needed to make Darcy not look like any kind of threat, and hearing Sherry's' story about Sammy put the math class fresh in her mind.
"Eh I'm getting my certificate in Automotives; I don't know why they make you take a math class anyway," Darcy huffed, feigning offense.
"Mechanic, huh?" Wickham eyed him. "Where you workin'?
"Nowhere right now. I mean, they all want you certified. It's complete bullshit, I have to pay money to make money," Darcy sold the story perfectly, with just the right inflictions to make it sound like an old wound that had been repeated frequently and with feeling.
"Eh, not everyone," Wickham shrugged. "Listen, come by my shop on 14th tomorrow. We'll see what you can do and maybe I'll have a job for you."
"Seriously?" Darcy asked, eyes wide. "That would be great, thanks, man."
"Don't mention it. Thank Lizzy here," Wickham tipped the joint towards her in a kind of salute. "She's got good instincts about people, don't you little sister?"
Lizzy just smiled back, a knot in her stomach. As drunk and high as she was, she knew exactly the position she was in. If and when people found out Darcy was really a cop looking to get dirt on Wickham, maybe no one would remember that Lizzy knew him first, invited him in, but chances were that no matter how high Wickham was right now, he would never forget.
"Want a beer?" Lizzy looked down at Will. He nodded and she slid off the chair and into the kitchen area without another comment. "Pay up."
Sherry crossed her arms with a pout. "No fair, you already knew him"
"I didn't know he'd come. And anyway, the bet was I'd get him to kiss me within five minutes. And he did," Lizzy replied.
Sherry hemmed and hawed, but eventually forked over the cash. Lizzy grabbed a few beer bottles and made her way back to where Darcy was. Now that the boss had given the okay, sort to speak, Darcy was being engaged by a few people. She passed him his beer, and he patted his knee with a grin. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but gingerly sat on his knee. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him, then started casually drinking beer and making light conversation with some people from the party.
She eventually relaxed enough to lean into him more, putting an arm around his neck and drinking her beer. At some point, Wickham had turned on the TV and some random show was playing. She was kind of out of it with the pot and alcohol in her system and was basically zoning out. All of her relaxation was gone in an instant when Wickham's voice once more penetrated her buzz.
"Maybe Lizzy could help out" he was saying to Rob, but when she turned to look his eyes were on her.
She had tensed so much when he addressed her that she was sure it was visible. Darcy squeezed her waist, bringing her back to the present and reminding her just who she was sitting with and what the stakes were. She forced herself to relax, tilting her head slightly and loosening her sudden death grip on her beer.
"Help?" she asked.
"Thinking about opening a store up at the school. Be great to have a source," Wickham commented.
"We've had this conversation. I'm not dealing for you," Lizzy commented firmly.
"Too bad," he sighed, looking down. "Maybe your loyalties lie with someone else," she couldn't help but tense again, considering she was literally in the lap of a detective. "Maybe you're part of a different Family."
"Save it, Wickham. I don't work for anyone," Lizzy sighed. "How many times do we have to go through this?"
"Maybe that's it," Wickham smiled charmingly. "I guess I got a new friend at the school, right O'Mara?"
"Uh," she could feel Darcy looking at her, but she stared at the TV screen. "Sure."
"Great. We can talk tomorrow when you come to the shop," Wickham replied.
There was another pause and then Wickham continued whatever conversation he was having with Rob. After some time had gone by, Darcy turned to her, and she looked down to see him smiling in a flirtatious way.
"So, a beautiful woman comes up to me and says kiss me" Darcy paused to look down at her lips and she felt a flush run through her despite her best efforts.
"Don't flatter yourself. You just won me fifty bucks," Lizzy huffed, but couldn't help glancing down at his lips briefly.
"So if I were to suggest we find somewhere more private…" he trailed off purposefully, his hand lightly making circles on her hip.
She knew it was all an act, that the reason he wanted to find somewhere more private was so that they could talk, or he could snoop around Wickham's, but she couldn't deny, at least to herself, that it was working for her.
"I'd say I wasn't that easy," Lizzy gave him a look and then slid off his knee. "But for you, I'll make an exception," she took his hand, pulling him up.
She ignored the knowing looks the boys were giving each other as they weaved their way through the house to find somewhere more private.
"Liz" Wickham's voice stopped them, and she turned back to see what he wanted. She was on edge, not used to so much attention from him. "Rob says some detective approached you."
She let go of Darcy's hand instinctually, then tried to cover it by taking a step closer to Wickham, as if she didn't want Darcy to overhear. Rob was sitting next to Wickham, his eyes boring into hers as if she was the one who would let something slip.
"Yeah. We ditched him, but he found out where I lived," she shrugged, her confused genuine – she was still unsure of how he managed it.
"What'd he want?" Wickham asked, voice deceptively calm. Or was it just actually calm? She was high and paranoid and maybe he didn't know anything.
"He said he was looking for Rob. You know the drill," Lizzy shrugged again. "He just wanted to talk to him, he wasn't in trouble, that kind of thing."
"That's it?" Wickham asked, looking down at another rolled joint, lighting it, and bringing his eyes back to her.
"Yeah. I told him I didn't know where Rob was," she smiled. "I don't think he believed me," Wickham laughed, taking another drag of the joint and passing it to Rob without turning his gaze away from her. "But he didn't have anything on me so what could he do?"
"What was his name?" Wickham asked.
"Oh shit," Lizzy brought her hand up to her forehead, pretending to think hard. "Detective… shit I don't remember."
Wickham shook his head in disappointment. "You remember, or see him again, call me this time."
"Sure," Lizzy shrugged.
She waited until he had turned to talk to someone on the opposite side of him before taking Darcy's hand again and leading him towards the back of the house. She opened the sliding glass door and stepped out. There were one or two people out there, but they were all sitting in the lawn chairs and high off their minds. She led him to the back fence until they stood between a crumbling shed and a tall tree that was totally bare. The temperature had dropped and she pulled her coat tighter around her, crossing her arms and leaning against the fence.
"I am so fucking stupid," she said, keeping her voice low. "Oh my God," she put her hands on her knees and tried to control her racing heart.
"It's alright," Darcy said, matching her tone. "You did great."
"I did great," she scoffed, standing up again. "Easy for you to say. I'm the one who just put my life on the line for you," she smacked her forehead. "Oh my God that's what I did, didn't I? What was I thinking?"
"Elizabeth," Darcy stilled her with a hand on her shoulder. "It just happened. You didn't know you'd get Wickham's attention, but you did. I know you went out on a limb for me, and I promise you, I will protect you."
"Protect me?" Lizzy laughed humorlessly. "If this thing goes south you get to pack up and leave town, but I live here. Even if things go exactly as they are supposed to, and you get Wickham off the streets, I guarantee someone in there is going to remember that I'm the one who vouched for you, and I know for a fact that Wickham will not forget."
"I won't pretend that's not true," Darcy replied and Lizzy groaned, covering her eyes with her hand. "But I promise you," here he pulled her hand down and locked eyes with her. "I promise you- I will keep you safe."
"Sure," she replied, unconvinced. All this for a measly fifty bucks.
"Liz!" a loud whisper called out.
Before she could answer back, or react in any way, Darcy leaned forward and kissed her- hard. The force of it pushed her back against the fence as one hand came up behind her neck to keep her there if she decided to pull back. His other hand gripped her waist and she felt her own hands come up to grip his broad shoulders. Instinctively and despite the shock, she kissed him back.
"Liz!" the voice was closer now, almost directly behind Darcy, who she felt pull back.
"What?!" she asked irritably. Her heart was pounding in her ears. What the hell was that for?
"We need to talk. Who the fuck is this guy?" Rob wanted to know, sizing up Darcy.
Back in character, Darcy glared at him. Or perhaps it was natural – Darcy seemed to always be glaring at people.
"Fuck off Rob," Lizzy said, still waiting for her heart to calm down after the sudden attack by Darcy.
"We need to talk," he looked around, completely obvious; if anyone was actually looking, his body language screamed conspicuous. "About that cop."
"Not now you idiot," she glared at him. "Just stick to our story and we'll be fine."
"But-" Rob started.
"Go Rob," Lizzy glared at him. "Before Wickham notices you're gone," Rob hesitated but threw his hands up and muttered something, walking away.
"Fuck," Lizzy leaned her head back against the fence, and then realized they were still tangled up in each other and dropped her hands from his shoulders and pushed him back.
"We need to talk as well," Darcy murmured, dropping his hands but not backing up. He looked down at her, and for a second she thought he might kiss her again, but then he finally pulled back away from her. "I'll take you home."