Devon Hartford - Painless

“Me and Madison could’ve sold tickets,” I joked. “Who are your buddies, Jake?”

“This is Lucas and Logan Summer,” he said, nodding to the two hotties on the bench seat beside him. “They’re brothers.”

“Twice the summer, twice the brother,” the one with blue eyes said.

These guys were the epitome of summer, all right. Beaches and bathing suits were made for them.

“Dude, you know that doesn’t make any fucking sense,” the one with green eyes scoff-smiled and shook his head.

Blue eyes rolled his glittering orbs. “So what? I like how it sounds.”

Yeah, they were brothers. Cute as hell, but definitely brothers.

I smiled at them and they beamed their winning smiles back at me. I gave them a wave. “Hey, guys. I’m Samantha. Which one of you is which?”

“What up, Samantha. I’m Lucas,” he waved. He had blue eyes. “This is my kid brother, Logan.”

“Hi,” Logan nodded, his green eyes sparkling at me like emeralds. He seemed shy compared to his brother.

These guys were total heartbreakers. Both were as tan as Jake and had shaggy blond hair with a natural curl. The only visible difference between them was that Lucas had blue eyes and Logan had green. Girls everywhere swooned at the sight of them and envied their awesome hair, I had no doubt. They also projected a very homey, genuine energy. No wonder they were friends with Jake and Christos.

“So, do hot guys always travel in packs or what?” I asked.

“Normally, me and Logan do,” Lucas said, “but today we’re slumming it with these two trolls.” He motioned toward Jake and Christos with his thumb.

“Dude, you’re totally walking home,” Jake joked.

“Whatever, dude,” Lucas scoffed.

Jake rolled his eyes. It was obvious he was close friends with Lucas and Logan from the way the three of them behaved.

“Hey,” Lucas said to me, “If you guys aren’t doing anything this Saturday night, you should totally come watch our band play.”

“You guys are in a band?” I goggled.

“Totally,” Logan said softly.

Yeah, they were perfect.

Lucas nodded, “We’ve got a show at the Belly Up.”

“The Belly Up?” I said. “That’s right near where I live.”

“You guys should come check us out,” Lucas smiled.

Saturday night. I felt that lead ball that had been weighing me down for the last few days roll around in my stomach. If luck was against me, I’d be crying my eyes out while Christos started a long stay in jail. I glanced at Christos and I could tell Lucas’ offer hadn’t sat well with him either. “Oh,” I said, “I don’t know. Can we decide later? Christos and I have some…family stuff.”

Christos nodded, a hint of sadness tightening his smile. “Family stuff,” he echoed.

“Yo, we gotta jet,” Jake said. “Get this rig back to my buddy at his shop before he goes home for the night. Anyway, me and Mads are going to see Lucas and Logan play on Saturday, so call us if you want us to pick you up.”

“All right,” I smiled. “Thanks again, you guys!”

“Any time,” Lucas said.

Logan nodded and smiled.

I waved as the truck drove off.

When they were gone, I parked my VW in front of the garage and got out. Christos still stood at the end of the driveway near the street. He seemed a million miles away. I started walking toward him, but he didn’t move. I broke into a run until I was in his arms.

“Christos…oh, agápi mou …” I wept as he enveloped me into his warm embrace. I felt the world crumbling around me by the second, and his arms were the last safe place in the universe.

Words could not do justice to my sadness and fear in that moment.

His trial was tomorrow morning…

Christos and I walked into the house together after I’d calmed.

“Welcome home, agápi mou ,” he said.

“That’s right!” I smiled. “I live here!”

“Yup. You’re all moved in. I even put your ice cream in the freezer in the kitchen.”

“All of it?” I grinned.

“All nine pints,” he smiled.

Christos led me upstairs and showed me all my clothes, neatly folded in the chest of drawers or hanging in the closet. My old shoes from D.C., which I rarely wore in warm San Diego, were neatly arranged on the floor of the closet.

“Your furniture is in the garage,” Christos said. “If you want any of it, let me know. I’ll put it wherever you want in the house. Otherwise, make yourself at home. This is your house now.”

I smiled at him. “I love you, Christos.”

“I love you too,” he smiled.

The pleasant knowledge that I was now moved in was blown out of my chest when I remembered that my parents didn’t know. Now that I was actually situated in the Manos’ house, I sensed they would not be happy. But there was no going back. Since they’d stopped paying for anything, did it really matter? Was there any way they could make my life worse than they already had? I sighed harshly, not wanting to think about it.

Christos and I went downstairs and had a somber dinner together. Spiridon wasn’t back from wherever he’d gone, and the usual relaxed, social atmosphere was crushed by the weight of what tomorrow might bring. Not even Christos was his usual easy going self.

After dinner, I tried to do some sketching at my drawing table in the studio while Christos worked on the background for one of his unfinished paintings. It was useless. I couldn’t concentrate.

I walked over to Christos, who sat at his easel, and put a hand on his shoulder. “I can’t get anything done. Do you want to go to bed?”

He sighed loudly and dipped his brush into a jar of turpentine and swirled it around. The turpentine spligged and splogged around the jar until he wiped the brush dry on some paper towels. “Sure.”

When we reached the threshold of the studio that led back into the house, Christos turned and took a long, meaningful look at the studio.

I wanted to cry, but I held back my tears, for his sake. This wasn’t the last time he was going to see it. It couldn’t be. The jury had to find him not guilty. Christos wasn’t a bad man. I knew it in my heart.

Christos sighed again and turned out the lights.

We walked quietly upstairs and got ready for bed in silence. We slid under the covers together and laid side by side, holding hands, staring at the ceiling.

I was miserable.

Christos was distant, almost like he was in shock. I couldn’t blame him.

I squeezed his hand, and he squeezed mine back.

I don’t know how long we laid like that.

At some point, I needed to talk. The stress inside me needed to be vented before I vomited up my dinner. If that happened, I knew I wouldn’t hesitate to run downstairs and fill my stomach with ice cream until I had to vomit that out too.

“Christos,” I whispered in the darkness, “are you sure there’s no way I can testify at your trial tomorrow?”

He didn’t answer.

“I mean,” I said, “I was there. I saw the guy. My version of events should make a difference, shouldn’t it?”

After a long time, a thin, tired voice said, “It’s too late, Samantha. Whatever happens, happens. I’ll deal with it.”

“But, what if—”

“I really need to try and sleep, agápi mou .”

I couldn’t argue with that.

He slid his hand out of mine and rolled onto his side, his back to me.

I felt like he was a million miles away. I almost snuggled up against him, but decided to let him sleep. I laid in bed quietly for awhile.

My stomach was churning like a sailboat in a super storm. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to do something about my stress. I slipped silently out of bed and went downstairs.