Blue Sacrifice (Blue Davison) (15 page)

“Why don’t you just screw him right here in front
of everyone, slut?”

“What’s your problem?” I asked, unsure why Emily
was crapping on me now when she hadn’t given Flynn as much as a second look
since the day she learned he was with me.

“My problem is you’re a diseased slut and you’re
spreading your nastiness around school. I can’t date anyone without worrying
about getting infected by a Blue STD.”

My tramp stamp said it all. “Don’t worry. Be
happy.” I also liked the motto, “No worries.” Even if Emily wanted to go slut
shaming on me, I wasn’t fighting her. While hitting someone for mouthing off
was against my code, it wasn’t against Lacey’s.

“You bitch!” Lacey screamed, going from zero to a
million on the rage meter. “I will cut your stupid spray tanned face off!”

My aversion to violence switched off when
confronted with a fight where Lacey might get suspended and I’d be without my friend
on my final days.

Quickly jumping between them, I blocked Lacey who
screamed at Emily in several languages. Turning to face Emily, I put up my
hands and tried to be heard over Lacey’s yelling.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but you need
to calm down before you both get suspended.”

Emily glanced at Lacey, who was yelling over my
shoulder, and then she looked back at me. A few deep breaths later, she shook
out her shoulders.

“I’m not sure why I got so mad,” she said,
stepping back. “I don’t hate you or anything.”

Unsure if this was true, I still nodded. “We all
have our bad days.”

“Yeah, maybe I’m getting ready to go on the rag?”
Emily said, trying to be funny after calming herself.

Lacey was far from calming down though. “Oh, you
want to bleed, bitch? I’ll make you bleed.”

Emily backed away and inched closer to her freaked
out friends. Once I was certain they weren’t going to jump me from behind, I
turned towards Lacey who was nearly foaming at the mouth.

“That bitch called you a whore. You! Like she’s a frigging
saint. I’m going to kill her. I’ll do it too.”

“Calm down,” I said, forcing her into a hug. “And
stop making death threats at school before an adult remembers how they’re
supposed to care.”

“No one messes with my family and no one messes
with my friends. That’s how I was raised. I won’t back down to an outsider
bitch.”

“I know,” I said, caressing her soft hair. “It’s
fine. You scared the crap out of her and she backed down. You won and she lost.
Just calm down.”

Lacey relaxed in my arms and I felt the rage
leaving her. I suspected the same reason Emily lost her mind was what sent
Lacey into hyperrage. The town was on the brink and everyone was feeling it.

Once Lacey mellowed, she stepped back and grinned.
“I was ready to mess her up.”

“I saw that. I’m fairly sure no one will ever mess
with you again. Well at least not these outsiders. You might need to do this
again with next year’s group.”

Smiling, Lacey and I returned to the table where
Flynn watched the whole event silently. Wondering why he hadn’t stepped up, I
frowned at him. He leaned over and kissed my cheek.

“I don’t hit girls,” he said, his hand on my
thigh. “I suspected Lacey didn’t have that problem so I let her handle it.”

“Wuss,” Lacey muttered, finishing her drink then
taking her tray to the trash.

“Are you alright?” Flynn asked.

“Yeah, sticks and stones and all that.”

“You’re not a whore.”

“Even if I was, I wouldn’t care what anyone
thought. Not about that. Not in Lily Falls.”

Flynn gave me a curious look before smiling
brightly. “You give very good massages, Blue. You’ve been holding out on me
apparently.”

“Just saving it for a special occasion.”

“I’m quite good at massages too,” he whispered in
my ear as his hand teased my thigh under the table. “Come over tonight and I’ll
show you just how good. Also my dad is home and he wants to meet you.”

I patted his hand. “I usually work at the food
truck on Tuesdays.”

“Why should you do free work for her?”

“She’s my guardian.”

“It’s her job to take care of you.”

“Don’t you ever help out your dad?”

Rolling his eyes, Flynn retrieved his hand from my
lap and placed it on the table.

“I was planning on cooking for you,” he said,
grumpy now.

“She said no,” Lacey muttered angrily. “Just leave
it alone.”

Flynn glared at her, but said nothing. I didn’t
blame him for letting it drop. Lacey was terrifying when pissed.

“Maybe later in the week,” I said, leaning against
Flynn who glanced down at me.

“Maybe.”

Sitting up straight, I fiddled with my school
stuff and ignored him. I didn’t beg for a boy’s attention before my time to be
sacrificed and I wasn’t begging now.

Flynn dumped his trash then sat down and pulled me
to him. Resting my head on his chest, I was grumpy because my wrist hurt and
every moment of pain reminded me how I was just setting Flynn up for more of a
shock when I died. Meeting his dad was a mistake, but I knew he was still trying
to get his way.

“My sweet Blue,” he murmured, kissing my forehead.
“Do you like pork?”

“Is that a sex thing?”

Pulling out her compact, Lacey snorted at my
question as she reapplied her eyeliner.

Ignoring Lacey, Flynn smiled at me. “I can do
wonderful things with pork.”

“Now I know it’s sex related.”

Smile widening, Flynn whispered, “If not tonight,
later in the week then. My father knows me well enough to see how I’m lovestruck.
He’s very curious about you.”

“He’ll be disappointed. I don’t do well in
stressful situations.”

“Then don’t get stressed.”

“True, that would be a solid plan.”

Looking into her compact, Lacey nodded then
checked her teeth for food and lipstick. “Maybe Thursday or Friday?”

“Oh, yes, because Blue has her fancy date on Wednesday.”

Lacey and I looked at one another and gave mutual
eye rolls. Flynn sighed like he was exasperated, but I felt his fingers pushing
under my jacket and past my jeans to my tattoo. Wiggling at the feel of his
cold fingers on my back, I grinned at him.

“Thursday?”

“I’ll start scouring the Internet for good pork
recipes.”

“Did he just admit he’s going to look for porn?”
Lacey asked. When Flynn glared at her, she lazily flipped him off. “My brother
is taller than you.”

Glare darkening, Flynn clicked his tongue. “He’s
too old for Blue.”

“He has a good job and a savings account so big it
can’t fit in one bank.”

“Blue doesn’t care about money.”

“Really?” Lacey balked.

“Yeah, since when?” I asked.

Flynn sighed. “She’s mine. I’ve spoiled her with
abilities your brother won’t have at his disposal.”

“Oh, don’t you worry because he’s hung.”

“Ew,” I said, laughing at Lacey as she suddenly
realized whose penis she was championing.

“Don’t ever tell him,” she growled at me.

“Lips are sealed, child.”

Lacey grinned. “Go ahead and cook whatever you
want, outsider. My brother is taking Blue somewhere so nice for dinner she’ll forget
your frigging name by the time he’s done pampering her.”

Flynn tightened his grip on me and I knew he
wasn’t playing anymore. I leaned further into his arms and pinned his hand in
my pants.

“So sexy,” I teased while he yanked his hand free.

“You are mine,” he said, pressing his lips
possessively against my forehead as I stared up at him.

Even grinning, I knew his statement wasn’t true. I
didn’t even belong to myself. As a Davison, I was the sole property of Lily Falls.

Arriving after five at The Falls Food Truck, I
smiled at Officer Bramley who was enjoying his favorite chicken quesadilla. He
grinned back at me then waved goodbye to Gretchen. Once inside the food truck,
I found an apron then took the sandwich Hans handed to me.

“What are you doing?” Gretchen asked.

“It’s Tuesday.”

Gretchen focused her frown on Hans. “I don’t need
help. Business has been down since the new food truck arrived in town. I might
as well just go out of business now.”

Hans said nothing, just gave me a tight smile.
Gretchen blew blonde hair from her eyes then returned to cooking. Feeling unwanted,
I ate my dinner then went outside to take orders from the people waiting in line.
Maybe I wasn’t paying attention before, but I didn’t notice a decline in the
number of her customers. Business was brisk and we stayed busy for the next hour.

Gretchen and Hans were fast cooks, but they could
barely keep up with the orders. When a woman arrived and saw the long line, she
decided to skip the wait and step to the front of the line. Obviously this
didn’t sit well with the people who had been waiting.

“Get in the back of the line!” yelled a blonde
woman who would have been next.

Ignoring her, the dark haired newcomer told me her
order. I didn’t know what to do and looked back at Hans who was cooking and
hadn’t even noticed.

“Write it down!” screamed the woman.

“You need to go to the back of the line,” I said
softly, hoping to keep my no worries motto.

“No, now write it down.”

“Get in the back of the line!” the blonde woman
yelled again.

Before Hans could get outside, the blonde woman
grabbed the dark haired lady by her collar and slammed her face against the
side of the food truck. I quickly moved to break it up, but Hans pulled me back
and behind him. He then pulled the women off each other, but they were already
bloodied and apparently unwilling to give up the fight. Turning on him, they
attacked his face, clawing at him like crazed cats.

Hans was a big guy, six four easily, and he pried
the women off him and held them apart like he once did with Gretchen’s fighting
cats. I stood nearby, unsure if I should hide in the truck or help Hans.

Officer Bramley returned with another squad car
and they broke up the fight brewing between other customers. Hans continued to prevent
the screaming women from tearing him or each other apart. Ambulances arrived
next and finally Gretchen stepped outside.

“You’re bad luck, Blue. Go home so I can make
money.”

Across the street, my real mother laughed at me as
I cried. When I reached for Gretchen, hoping for a hug, she pushed me off like
I was nuts.

“I’m all sweaty from cooking. Just go home.”

Nodding, I took off my apron and grabbed my bag.
Before I reached my bike, Hans appeared and pulled me into a hug.

“Are you okay?”

Lying, I nodded even as I cried against him. “I
wish things were different between me and Gretchen. Like we were more like a
real mom and daughter.”

“I know,” he said, caressing my head, “but
Gretchen has trouble connecting with people. I’ve known her for two decades and
she still acts like we’re strangers. You can’t take it personally.”

Looking up at him, I smiled. “People are so crazy
lately.”

“The holidays are coming,” he said, slowly
releasing me. “It makes people tense.”

Nodding again, I wiped my face and unlocked my
bike. “I better get home.”

“Be careful. A lot of angry drivers out there.”

Faking a smile for him, I glanced at the truck
where Gretchen worked before I looked across the street at where my mother
smirked. Even after the good night’s sleep at the Zandi house, I never felt
more tired.

By the time I reached my house, I had been
screamed at by two drivers and had a rock thrown at me by a four year old. As
if I needed more crap dumped on me, my mother sat on the porch, slashing her
throat.

“Blood isn’t your thing, kid,” she sneered. “Other
ways to die besides bleeding and drowning. Get creative, will ya?”

Great-aunt Cassandra died by hanging and she died
quickly. I know this because lately I’d had many visions of the Davison women
dying. Not from their viewpoints, but like I was watching from the outside. I didn’t
know what Cassandra or any of them were thinking as their lives ended, but I knew
how they died and how long it took. Standing in my room and looking up at the
beams running across the ceiling, I figured hanging might be the way to go.

After dragging a ladder into my room and working the
rope over a beam, I tied one end to my heavy wooden bed. Having spent years
staring up at the beams, I never imagined hanging myself from one of them. Yet
it was perfect really and I even wondered if the house had been designed for
this very moment? After the last few weeks, anything was possible.