Savage Little Lies: Chapter 31

Sloane

Ares was really quiet that night when we worked in my garage. He was always quiet, but this time it was different. He didn’t have his earbuds in, which, for some reason, made me super aware of him. Or maybe it was that I knew he was aware of me, and that made all the awkward shit that had happened with his friend this afternoon that much worse. Ares had come after me following that, but I’d told him to fuck off and hadn’t seen him again until we met tonight.

It was a long goddamn night. It was one full of Ares Mallick’s glances. It was like he was checking to make sure I was okay or some shit, and eventually, I threw my paintbrush at him. He was working at the trunk of the car, and the brush caught him right in the face.

“The fuck?” He popped up, snarling. We’d almost finished the side he was on and probably only had a few more days on this thing before the piece came together. He tipped his chin at me. “What was up with that?”

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head and turning back toward the mural. “That’s because you won’t stop fucking looking at me. You’ve been doing that shit since we started the night.”

And he’d been more than obvious about it. If he had something to say, he might as well say it.

A sigh occurred behind me, loud enough where I heard it. Eventually, I heard him make his way over, and he watched me paint for a while.

“It’s looking good,” he chose to say. I supposed it was easier than actually talking about anything else. When we did talk, it was about art. He’d said never to bring personal shit in here, so we didn’t.

Ares started to walk away, but then he braced his arms.

“You good?” he asked, but when I didn’t say anything, he pushed himself into view. His brow arched. “Sloane.”

“Ares?” I continued to paint, barely looking at him. He sighed again, and I didn’t miss when he sat back down on his stool. He didn’t stare at me this time, but he also didn’t put his earbuds in.

“I talked to him.”

I turned after what he said, and unlike most of the night, he had his head down, his full concentration on the paint.

He swirled a long stroke. “He told me what happened, and I told him that wasn’t cool. Especially after I told him to back off.”

“Why even bother?”

His shrug was subtle. “You seemed upset.”

Again, why would he care?

“You better be careful, Mallick,” I said, pausing. “You’re kind of looking like a friend. Actually, you look like a friend a lot.”

He stopped painting. He gazed up. “Or maybe I’m not an asshole.” His lips tightened. “Maybe in all your judgment, I’m not as much of a dick as you want me to be.”

“And maybe I’m not a bitch.” I tilted my head. “And I never did get an apology for that. That first day?”

Not to mention he’d called me a cunt, and God only knew what else. He’d been a tool. He knew it, and that was outside of him not believing me either at first.

His nod was slow. “I did snap-judge you. I did judge you, but I was wrong, little.”

He was wrong…

“I’m sorry.” He opened his hands. “I was in the wrong, and about more than a few things since then. I’m sorry for all of it.”

I honestly didn’t know what to say to that. I never thought I’d hear that.

“Anyway, are you okay? I mean…” He pulled the paint towel off his shoulder, twisting it. “I’d like not to be enemies. I know I’ve called a truce in the past, but I actually mean it this time.”

I definitely hadn’t forgotten about the whole lingerie-party thing.

Nor the fact that he just asked me if I was okay.

“Dude, this is looking sweet.”

We both angled around, Bru waltzing into the garage. Bru stepped over a few paint cans, and with his arrival, he’d cracked the weird fucking vibe in here.

My brother lifted a hand to Ares, and though his teammate didn’t seem like the type to appreciate people poking in to stare at his work, Ares was cool about it.

“Thanks, man,” Ares said. “It’s really coming together.”

“I’ll say.” Bru angled in to look, and it was crazy that he’d just been sick. He had so much of his strength back, seeming really well. He propped his hands on his hips. “Anything I can do?”

“No.”

Bru whirled around. Ares and I both had said that at the same time. In fact, at the exact same time.

I laughed, Ares too, and my brother rolled his eyes.

I patted the air. “It’s just, we put a lot of work into this.” Dozens of man hours, in fact, and the last thing we needed was a rogue stroke mucking it up. Not to mention Ares would probably annihilate my brother if he did. I pointed to the garage doors. “But you can make yourself nice and cozy on that chair and watch.”

The chair currently housed a couple cans of paint, and helping me out, Ares cleared it. Ares dusted if off with his rag. “Perfect place for you, brother.”

I couldn’t help it. I busted out laughing, and Ares did too. It was nice since things had been weird before.

My brother lifted his hands.

“I can tell when I’m not wanted.” He eyed us, but then laughed too. “And you two have been spending far too much time together. You’re even starting to laugh like each other.”

That had me rolling my eyes, and I hopped over a paint can to my brother. I mock-kicked him out of the garage. “Go to bed. It’s late.”

It was well after midnight, and we both had school tomorrow.

Walking away, my brother waved a hand behind his head. I shook my head. “Pardon him. He’s aware we need to finish this, but he just doesn’t care.”

He’d probably be in here all night if I let him.

Ares didn’t say anything, and when I pivoted, he had his hands on a part of the trunk we hadn’t painted. He was staring off into the garage, and I waved my hand. “Earth to Mallick.”

He blinked, his gaze colliding with mine. He pushed off the car. “Actually, it is getting kind of late.” He tapped the air. “Probably should wrap it up for the night.”

He’d never cared about it being late before, but since I was tired too, I didn’t disagree.

Ares immediately bent down to start cleaning up, and when he did, I noticed a chain slip out of his tank top.

“What’s that?”

Ares angled his head down, his hand clamping the necklace. I came over and nodded at it, and he opened his hand.

“I used to have something like that,” I said, recognizing the emblem. “But mine wasn’t a necklace.”

It’d been a bracelet actually, a charm like that on it.

I studied his, smiling. “I lost it a long time ago, but yeah. It looked just like it.”

In fact, it was uncanny, same shape and everything.

Ares’s finger moved across his. “How did you get it?”

“My parents.” I shrugged. “I don’t remember when. I kind of just always had it.”

Ares’s head tilted. “You said you lost it?”

“Yeah.” I leaned back. I realized then I’d gotten closer to see it. Like real close. “Probably something a bunch of parents give out or something. Is that how you got yours?”

“Yeah.” He let it go. “Do you remember where you lost it? When?”

Laughing, I cuffed my arms. “If I did, I’d probably still have it, right?”

“Right.” He laughed, but not quite like me. It was short as he studied the garage. He grabbed his hoodie. “I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll work first thing.”

I told him that was cool, thinking about the bracelet as he got into his Hummer. I wished I could remember where I’d lost it. I recalled loving that thing and had always worn it.

I’d probably loved it more because my mom specifically had given it to me. I didn’t have a lot of things from her and even fewer memories. They seemed to wipe away each year I got older, my memories of her fading.

I drew her that night in my studio before bed, her face. I tried to remember the slants and curves and just about fell asleep with a paintbrush in my hand. I never could get the face right, though. She looked oblong, blank. My memory was grasping at things I didn’t have.

Maybe, in the morning, I’d try again.