Page 135 of Off the Rails

As Blade turned her attention back to the lane, Nash nodded toward the podium at the center of our booth. “Hungry?”

Of course I was, they’d worn me out last night and I had yet to eat today. But as I leaned forward and tried to decide what to get, my mind was racked with indecision.

Grabbing my hand, Nash pulled it away. “I’ll order. Sit back and relax.”

A part of me wanted to fight her on it, how did she know what I wanted to eat? In reality, I’d spent far too many years making a metric-fuckload of choices. And I was tired of always having to figure it out.

So instead, I sat back in the plush black leather and watched as Blade launched her green ball back down the alley.

The clatter of the last two pins filled the whole place, only a small family at the very far end opposite us.

“Let’s go!” Blade pumped her fists just as Nash was placing our order with the kitchen. “You’re up, Nash-nasty.”

Groaning, Nash stood up. “Jesus.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the nickname as Blade sat next to me, placing her arm over my shoulders. The mix of her earthy scent and a light sweat filled my nose, making my body desperate for her all over again.

I had never let anyone touch me the way she had last night, never trusted anyone enough to hold that responsibility with any honor. But Blade could, shouldering all of her power with grace. Even if she loved to laugh at how pathetic the two of them made me.

“You bowl much, Trinket?” Blade watched my face closely, her body still as she stared.

Memory washed over me, tightening my chest.

“Used to.”

Blade’s jaw tensed as she leaned closer. “Your mom?”

Nodding, I was surprised she remembered. “Before she died, yeah. Single mom, small town. Estranged dad who moved across the country.”

“She tried to make things special.” There was a matter-of-fact way she spoke, like all of this was something we’d already talked about. But I knew when we were kids that we were all too guarded — jaded by the way the foster system had fucked all of us up — to talk so honestly.

“I’m glad you had that. Even for a while.” Blade’s gaze grew distant.

Biting my lip, I asked a question I’d been sitting on for some time. “Your parents… they sent you to Heirs of Promise right?”

Her green eyes shimmered under the multi-colored light. But Blade cleared her throat. “Yeah.”

“Do you know if they’re still alive?”

“Yep.”

“Did you ever go looking for them?”

That was the missing piece. All of them had run away from the home. But Blade did have family, someone who might go looking for them. From my recollection, her parents were normal — a white picket fence and a golden retriever.

After all these years, had she really stayed hidden in Feverpoint’s depths? Had she ever gotten curious about the people who’d sent their only child into a religious group home?

Blade met my eyes now, hesitance gone. “I did.” She gave me a second to be surprised before explaining. “They moved a few towns over after we disappeared. I tracked them down a couple years back, watched them from afar.”

“They seemed happy.” Her leg began to tap, anxiety rushing through her.

My hand went to her thigh, squeezing her. How could they possibly be okay without their child? Without ever knowing?

Shrugging, Blade’s leg stopped. “They never would have accepted me. It was easier for all of us. I never would get to be… well, this.” She gestured to herself. Tattooed and pierced, a Three of Swords brand on her arm. Blood in her veins, Fright Night her release.

I understood it. She was right. There was no one else on this earth quite like her.

She deserved the world. And she went out and got it for herself.