Текст книги "Becoming His"
Автор книги: Mariah Dietz
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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 24 страниц)
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you’d better get out of my house before I shoot you!”
My eyes sweep over hair that’s tightly pulled up in curlers and her purple and teal housecoat, zeroing in on knotted and arthritis-bent fingers looking unsteady as they shakily rest on the trigger.
“Ace!” Max yells, grabbing at my backside from the ground.
“Ethel, put that goddamned gun down before you shoot yourself!” Jack yells.
I’m immobile from fear as I watch the wheels turn in her head.
“Ethel, it’s just Ace. She’s tryin’ to help. I locked myself out again!” Jack continues.
Ethel’s eyebrows knit in confusion, like she isn’t positive that it’s really her husband yelling at her. I fight to create a coherent explanation over the fear screaming in my head.
“H-hi … hi, Mrs. Janes. I haven’t seen you in a while, but it’s me … Ace. I live a few doors down. David and Muriel Bosse’s daughter.” I work to keep my voice soft as I search her face for any sign of recognition.
“Dammit, Ethel, let the poor girl in and come unlock the door!”
“I’ll uh, I can go back out this way.” I motion to the empty space behind me.
Sneering, she maintains her aim. “You do that.”
I quickly scramble out the window, keeping my eyes focused on her, noticing that as I move her level of unease seems to increase. My upper body and one leg are out and my mind’s so focused on trying to keep my fingers, which are shaking and slick with sweat, gripping securely so I can pull my next leg free, I barely notice Max’s hand clasping around my freed leg. Leaning back so I can pull my second leg free, a deafening blast erupts from behind me and I lose balance. I half lunge, half fall from the window.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I prepare to feel the slam of the earth and instead feel two hard arms below my knees and back that feel more like two-by-fours than flesh.
He drops me to the ground and lays himself over me, resting most of his weight on his hands and feet, while his eyes dance rapidly over my face.
“Ethel? What in God’s name are you doing?” Jack yells angrily.
“Are you alright?’ Max’s eyes scan over my face in fear. I nod several times, and Max nods in turn like he’s trying to convince himself.
“She’ll be fine. Ethel couldn’t hit a fish in a barrel. But look at the hole she made in my house!” Jack groans as he elaborately waves a hand at the large hole blown through the siding.
Another deafening blast erupts above us, and I barely catch sight of Jack cowering in surprise before Max’s body shifts over mine again, blocking my vision with his shoulder.
He slowly lifts himself again and rolls so he’s crouched on his hands and feet, staring up to see the new hole a few feet from the first.
“Holy hell, Ethel, what are you doing?”
A loud clamber has me wondering if Ethel’s just managed to give herself a heart attack, or worse, shot herself. Seconds later, her face appears in the window, obviously stepping on something to look out. She appears unharmed, eyebrows furrowing as her eyes lock on Jack.
“Jack? How’d you get out there?”
“I’ve been out here. Weren’t you listenin’? I locked myself out, had to get the neighbor kids to help me. What are you doin’ with my gun, Ethel?”
“Taking five years off my life,” I whisper, dropping a hand to my forehead and closing my eyes as I release a loud sigh.
A soft chuckle makes the hair on my arms dance with his close proximity. My eyes open to his piercing cobalt blues inches from my own, close enough I can see the flecks of lighter and darker blue around the edges creating a mesmerizing maze of blue that I’ve never seen before.
“You’re sure you’re alright? That first shot only missed you by a little over a foot. What in the hell are they doing with a shotgun?” Max’s demeanor seems to shift as he climbs to his feet. His body is rigid as his focus turns from the house to me before he shakes his head and rakes his eyes over my body several times ensuring that I’m indeed fine.
“You cut your leg.” He squats beside my feet.
“It’s not a big deal. I can hardly feel it.” Sitting up, I look at the small gash across my shin. “Once it’s cleaned it’ll be nothing.”
“ACE! ACE!” I quickly stand, hearing Kyle’s voice. “What in the hell’s going on? Are you guys okay?” His chest rises and falls with labored breaths as he stops in front of us with Caulder right behind him.
The police officer is apparent in Caulder as he steps forward with his hand clutched to the gun holster he always wears on his right hip.
“We’re okay. It was just a misunderstanding.”
Kyle doesn’t even look at me as I try assuring him. They’re looking past me, widening with horror at the sight of the Janes’s house.
His mouth opens, but words don’t come and I take the opportunity to attempt to smooth things over. “Let’s go. I’m starving,” I lie, placing a hand on Kyle’s shoulder and the other on Caulder’s. I gently push them forward, hoping to diffuse the situation before Caulder starts issuing citations and giving gun safety advice.
“I’m real sorry about that, kids. She’s been hearing all these stories on the news about people breaking into homes, and all the terrible ruckus they’re causing. It’s got her a little on edge.” Mr. Janes shakes his head and shoots us an apologetic grimace.
“You guys should consider mace, or another form of protection ... maybe calling the police,” Caulder suggests, turning around and looking between the gun holes in the wall, and to me. “You could have easily killed someone today.”
“Bye, Mr. Janes.” I call over my shoulder as I give my brothers another shove in the hopes of moving them before any of the Bosse women make their way over. They would lose it.
I can feel Kyle’s reluctance under my palms as his muscles strain against me and realize my efforts are likely futile.
“She forgot who I was. She’s not doing well. I’m fine. Really. Please, let’s not make a big deal out of this.” I keep my voice quiet so Jack can’t overhear me. He still isn’t ready to come to terms with the fact his wife is starting to have more frequent lapses of dementia.
I see the understanding in Caulder’s eyes. He responded to a call a few weeks ago about an elderly lady that was found in the park that couldn’t recall where she lived.
“Please?” I beg. Kyle’s eyes focus on mine for a moment and then move, and I follow his gaze to Max, who looks like he too is waging an internal battle with himself. I give Kyle my best pleading look and hear the deep intake of breath that he releases in a whoosh. I smile in appreciation at his resolve.
He wraps an arm around my shoulders and shakes his head a few times as we make our way to the front yard. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have had you do that. It was a stupid idea.”
“What in the hell happened?” Savannah cries from the driveway.
“The Janes’s need a hide-a-key,” I reply, forcing my smile to appear genuine. “Did you guys bring your suits? Dad said he wants a rematch,” I say with practiced deflection.
“What in heaven’s name was goin’ on over there? Were those gunshots we heard? Eric thought it was just a car backfirin’, but it was so loud!” My mom rushes to us, her eyes bright as they scan over the four of us, stopping on my leg. “What happened?”
“It was nice of him to check.” I hear Max murmur as he walks past us and disappears into the house.
“Apparently she startled Mrs. Janes when she was climbing through their bathroom window—” Caulder starts, his voice turning factual as it does anytime he discusses work.
“Why were you climbin’ through their window?” Mom ushers me in the house as I shoot Caulder a glare.
“Mr. Janes locked himself out again,” Kyle answers. “I couldn’t fit, so I came and got her.” His expression is filled with guilt. I open my mouth to assure them once again that I’m fine, but my words cease when my dad barrels into the foyer, in his swim shorts and soaking wet. His eyes quickly glide over the small group of us and then close in relief. He lets out a deep breath and wipes a hand across his brow.
“Why didn’t you guys get me?” It’s not often that my dad looks angry, but right now his temper is spiked higher than we usually ever see it as he looks to my mom and sister. He turns his full attention to me. “You got shot at?”
“What?” my mom cries. “Who in God’s name shot at you? Are you alright?” My mom’s southern accent has thickened as it does anytime she gets worked up.
“It wasn’t at me,” I enunciate for clarification. “I don’t think she knew what she was doing, and I’m okay. Really.”
Generally my dad doesn’t look much older than forty, but with the current stress etched across his face, he suddenly looks much closer to his sixty years. “What happened?”
I briefly summarize the excitement until Emily and Jade race in, both in their bathing suits, trailing a path of pool water as they giggle and squeal and latch on to my dad’s legs.
“Gampa, gampa.” Jade calls, looking up with her blond hair matted to her bony shoulders, successfully providing interference for me.
As they work to clean up the trails of water and usher the girls back outside, I excuse myself to the restroom to clean my small battle wound.
“Harper, I’ve got to run. There was some kind of printing issue and things weren’t delivered to Mobile on time, and they’re about to shit a brick!” Eric appears in the doorway, eyes focused on the screen of his phone while his thumbs rapidly trace over the keypad. After a few moments of silence, he looks up to see me watching him.
“Babe, that’s disgusting. You’re getting blood everywhere, and your feet are filthy.” His face pinches as he remains leaning against the doorjamb.
“Yeah, why aren’t you bleeding out in the yard?” Max’s deep voice drips with sarcasm as he appears behind Eric.
Eric turns and follows my gaze before stepping to the side and returning his attention to me. “What were you guys doing? Where did you go?” I see a hint of accusation cross his face as he tilts his chin and examines me for a second. “Never mind, you can tell me later, I have to go. Harper, I’ll try to call you, depending on how this all goes.”
Max doesn’t turn as Eric strides away. Instead, he steps further into the bathroom. “He just called you Harper.”
The irony that this is the second time this conversation has occurred today isn’t lost on me as I give a similar response. “It’s my name.”
Max’s eyebrows rise and then furrow. “Yeah, I just never hear anyone ever call you by it.” He takes a few steps closer to me. “How’s the leg?”
“It’s nothing. I think I just hit the side of the windowsill when I made my graceful exit.” I attempt to joke, but his forehead creasing confirms it lands flat.
“Are you okay?” I ask, hopping down from the sink.
“Yeah.” His answer is automatic. “Yeah,” he repeats, sounding less sure this time as he reaches his heavily tattooed arm back and rubs it over his head a few times. I catch sight of his arm muscles rippling with each passing movement before I turn my attention to the sink and clean it with a disinfectant wipe.
“That was crazy. It scared the shit out of me when you fell. I thought she shot you.”
“Yeah,” I reply lamely.
He nods a couple of times, his eyes wandering around the small space just as mine do, looking for a safe place to land.
“So I heard you moved back.”
“Yeah, I transferred back to San Diego Sta—” The obnoxious continuation of a car horn breaks his attention. He backs out the doorway, looking over his shoulder toward the now vacant foyer.
I follow him out the front door and into the driveway in the direction of a red vintage car parked beside Mindi’s minivan that emits another blare of the horn. Jameson sits in the driver’s seat wearing sunglasses and a wide smile.
“Asswipe, you’re lucky I was over here! What are you doing?” Max asks with a laugh, clasping his right hand to Jameson’s shoulder.
“Landon made me do it. He was really excited to see you, told me he couldn’t wait another second. Besides, I knew you were over here; your mom’s been reminding you of this all week. Hey Ace.” Jameson turns his smile to me a second before turning his attention back to Max. “I can’t believe I’ve known you for two years, and you’ve never told me about your neighbors. You’ve got some ‘splainin to do, Lucy,” he says with a horrible Spanish accent. He’s much more animated and goofy than he was this morning, causing me to wonder if he’s been drinking.
“When did you guys meet?” Max asks, looking to Jameson.
Jameson laughs and punches him in the bicep a couple of times. “Why? Are you scared?”
The passenger door of the car opens, halting conversation, and a guy I presume is Landon steps out. He, like the other two, is attractive, with broad shoulders and reddish brown hair that he wears short. His red T-shirt exposes several tattoos that artfully wrap down both of his forearms, and his face is warm and inviting with bright green eyes and an infectious smile.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to let him out of the car unsupervised. I was finishing a call with my mom to let her know I arrived.” Landon’s deep, throaty laugh fills the air as he turns his attention to me.
“That’s alright. Jameson was going to make an ass of himself eventually, better to get it out of the way,” Max teases, locking his arm around Jameson’s neck in a headlock.
“Hi, I’m Landon Turner.” He extends his hand to me.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Ace.”
A dark blue Jetta pulls up beside us, and I can feel Abby’s stare.
Abby and I met last year when we realized we shared three classes and an addiction for Antonio’s Pizza. We became pretty much inseparable after enduring our first semester finals, and the hordes of hours we dedicated to them.
Being a New Jersey native, she applied to schools only on the West Coast in an attempt to gain some separation from her large extended family and any possibility of joining her family’s business, a string of bars they own along the Jersey coastline.
My family took Abby in as a sixth daughter and sister after the first weekend I convinced her to accompany me home. She then returned almost every weekend after, falling just as much in love with them as they did with her.
She opens her car door and steps out with a bright smile on her full lips. Abby’s beautiful with long, dark brown hair that falls in natural, thick waves, and honey-colored eyes. She’s a bit taller than me, at five-eight, and built slightly thicker, which she hates and blames it—and her slightly long nose—on her Scandinavian genes from her mother and any other habits or features she deems as unflattering on her Italian genes from her father.
“Guys, dinner’s ready. Let’s go, let’s go!” Dad calls, stepping outside. “Hey, Abby, did you bring some friends?”
“These are Max’s friends.” I reply, brushing loose strands of my hair back as I turn my attention to my dad, feeling the adrenaline from the window incident mixing dangerously with nerves from knowing these guys are all heading to my backyard for family night.
“Oh, that’s right.” Dad takes a couple of steps closer. “Landon and Jameson, right?”
He steps closer as they return greetings and offers his hand to each of them. “Come on back. We’ve got lots of food and drinks. If you’ve got your swim shorts, we have pool basketball, but watch out…” he points to me with a wink “…this one here cheats.”
“Oh, we didn’t mean to impose, sir. We’ll go pick something up and let you guys get back to your meal.” Landon respectfully declines, and I watch Abby swoon a little as he addresses my dad so formally.
“No, no, no. You guys are expected. Just avoid the two pregnant ladies if you know what’s good for you.”
“Are you sure? We can go next door?” Max’s hand runs over his hair again, and his voice sounds quieter, almost hesitant.
“I’m positive.”
“I brought you a new ale. My dad says it’s the best one yet, let me grab it real quick.” Abby grips my fingers, silently indicating for me to stay behind with her. My dad nods and waves a hand for the guys to follow him into the house.
“That’s your neighbor?” Her words are a barely controlled whisper as she bounces on her toes, her eyes still focused on the front door. “Why have you been hiding him?”
“I haven’t been hiding him! He’s been up in Alaska for the last couple of years. Besides I barely know him.”
“What do you mean you barely know him? He’s so flipping hot!” She looks at me like I just told her I committed a heinous crime as her voice rises with suspicion.
I shrug, unsure of how to explain my nonexistent relationship with Max. “He never really talked to any of us.” I feel my shoulders lift again.
“Oh good, so you’re both mental,” she says, pulling open her car door and producing a paper bag that clinks as she lifts it. “If you barely know him, then what’s he doing over here? And with his hot friends!”
“It’s been a really strange day,” I explain, shaking my head as the reality of the last hour plays through my mind in a quick burst of images. “Max came over with Sharon, his mom.” Abby’s eyes light up at the connection. “And then Kyle came to get me to see if I could fit through the Janes’s window because he managed to lock himself out, even though Ethel was still inside.” Her chin drops with boredom as I ramble. “Anyways, Max helped me climb through a window so I could unlock the door, but Ethel, who was supposed to be napping, ended up waking up and…” Abby motions with her hands for me to get to the point, and I shoot her a glare “…she shot at me.”
“She shot at you? With what like hairspray?” Her eyebrows lift as she contemplates what would be used in this scenario, having seen my elderly neighbors a few times.
“No, not with hairspray!” I retort, rolling my eyes. “With a freaking shotgun.”
“You’re lying!” Abby’s eyes grow round with disbelief.
“I’m serious! My ears are still ringing, and my heart’s still running a marathon.” I extend my arm out to her with my palm up.
“You’re shitting me! I can’t believe she shot at you! What happened?”
“Well, naturally I gracefully fell out of the window.”
“Oh my god! Are you alright?” She eyes me scrupulously. “She shot at you and you fell out the window? Oh. My. God!”
I shake my head, motioning with my hands for her to lower her voice. “I’m fine. She missed me by a few feet, and Max caught me before I hit the ground.”
“Still!” she cries, her eyes continuing to comb over me before they shoot to mine. “He’s like your hero. This is perfect!” Perfect comes out as a near squeal as her eyes dance with excitement.
I roll my eyes at her enthusiasm and shake my head. “Max is … different.” I’m at a loss of words to explain my neighbor, so instead I close her car door and become the target of her narrowed glare.
“What?” I cry.
“I don’t know, but it just seems really odd that he’s lived next door to the five Barbies and never tried to get close to any of you.”
“I hate when you call me that.” I turn to ensure she sees my frown before I continue. “Ask Kendall. Max never paid attention to any of us, and he was in her class.”
“Come on, I want to see them again!” She tugs on my hand without further question, “Is Eric here?”
“No, he had to go. There was some sort of printing error,” I reply, following her around the house to the back gate.
“Oh, how heartbreaking.”
She and Eric never managed to get off on the right foot. Even now, nine months later, the two can hardly be in a room together without starting a petty argument.
We round the house and I survey the yard finding Jameson standing beside Max and Landon, their backs facing us, talking to Kyle and my dad. My dad’s grinning, and I can tell by the animated way his hands are moving he’s telling them a story.
Jade and Emily splash in the pool while Mindi sits in a lawn chair nearby, devouring what’s left of her marshmallows, and Savannah munches on tortilla chips at the patio table.
“This will be ready in about ten minutes, ma moitié.” My dad makes eye contact with my mom from where he’s moved beside the grill.
“Okay, let’s do introductions really fast!” she says, evoking a groan from Mindi. Mom ignores her without even a glance and continues.
“Do you girls all remember Sharon’s son, Max?”
“Mom, he lived next door for like ten years.” Kendall whines, emerging from the patio door.
I watch Jameson’s eyes grow as they follow her to where she shuffles to a lawn chair and collapses. If I didn’t know from years of watching my sister suffer from jet lag, you’d think she was nursing a hangover with the way she’s squinting and shading her face with a hand.
“It’s been a couple of years.” I can tell by Mom’s tone that our hospitality skills are severely lacking tonight. “His friends, Jameson and Landon, are here for the summer. Boys, this is my oldest daughter, Mindi, and her husband, Kyle, and their daughters, Jade and Emily.” Mindi gives a halfhearted smile that even with the effort she expends still looks like a grimace as she pops another sugar-laced marshmallow into her mouth. Kyle offers a smile and nods his head, as if silently apologizing for both Mindi and the formal introduction.
“Savannah is our second oldest, and her husband Caulder …” She tries to locate where he is and perks up, pointing to him as he steps out of my dad’s work shed.
“Our middle daughter, Jenny, and her daughter, Lilly, weren’t able to make it tonight but I’m sure you’ll meet them soon. This is Kendall.” I notice Jameson’s eyes have barely left Kendall through the barrage of introductions.
“And our youngest, Ace, and her best friend Abby. And then of course Zeus,” she adds with a wave of her hand as Zeus rests his head against my thigh.
Dad finishes loading chicken on a platter already covered with several steaks as my mom completes her introductions and carries it over to the patio table, instructing everyone to come eat.
I carefully balance my plate and cup with Zeus trailing so close I feel his cold, wet nose on the back of my calf with every other step I take to a seat beside Kyle and Abby.
As I sit down I catch the tail end of a joke I’m sure Kyle’s been dying to tell without Mindi around, since it’s rather crude, and smile as their laughter draws attention to us. Zeus sits under my chair and lets out a sigh as he stretches and rests his large head on my feet.
“He sure looks happy to have you home.” Sharon smiles at me as she takes a seat beside my mom.
“He is without a doubt her dog,” Mom says, glancing down at Zeus.
“He’s a mammoth,” Jameson joins my mom and Sharon, followed by Max and Landon. “How much does he weigh?”
“He’s about one seventy-five.” Jameson’s mouth drops at my response, making me smile.
“The way Mr. Janes talked about being concerned with you running alone with your dog, I pictured a Chihuahua.” Jameson earns laughter from the table, which he soaks in with a grin as he glances to Kendall. She’s engrossed with her cell phone, and nursing a beer, making her hangover façade a little more condemning.
“He’s a gentle giant. Mr. Janes is probably right,” Kyle teases, leaning forward in his seat to ruffle Zeus’s fur.
“That is the most faithful dog ever. If any one of the girls were in trouble, he’d spring into action,” Dad says confidently as he sits across from Max.
“Dad, Savannah and I had already moved out by the time you guys got Zeus,” Mindi challenges.
“He still knows you’re family.”
“What do you think, boy? Would you bite Marshall if he ever got a little too creepy?” Kyle teases, referring to a neighbor down the street.
“If?” Kendall cries, finally setting her phone down. “Have you not seen him lately? He’s surpassed the too creepy mark.”
“Kendall,” Mom chastises, “he’s just shy … and a bit awkward.” As she continues, it’s apparent she’s not buying her own words. “Y’all should probably stay away from him, but I’m sure he’s …” She drifts off and my dad gives a few dramatized nods making us all laugh.
“So, Max, you still like cars?” my dad asks casually as he begins salting his salad.
My eyes drift back to Max as I wait with anticipation for his response, as though his words are important. I realize as he confirms his interest with cars, and now motorcycles, that it’s not his words so much, but his voice. It’s warm and deep, masculine and rugged. I didn’t know a voice could be rugged.
“You’ll have to come check out my old Chevelle. She’s turning out beautifully.”
“She’s orange, Dad.” Kendall’s tone is sarcastic, reflective of her distaste for the authentic color choice he made.
“Which is why she’s named Clementine,” Dad responds. I love that old car. I’ve spent countless hours watching my dad create her from just the body, slowly adding parts and pieces until she became a car.
I look over at Abby as she knocks her knee against mine. She raises an eyebrow before nodding slightly toward the patio table to question my interest that’s apparently not as inconspicuous as I’d hoped. I quickly shake my head and work to move my focus to what she and Kyle are discussing. With some effort I engage in their conversation and avoid my curiosity as to what Max and my dad continue discussing.
Shortly after eating, Max stands up and clears his place. “We’ve got to get going or we’ll be late,” he says so quietly that if I wasn’t turned around listening to Kendall and Jameson bantering with one another, I would’ve missed it.
“I’m sorry to eat and run, but we’re supposed to be meeting some people,” Max says to our parents.
“That’s no problem. It was so good to see you and Jameson, and to meet you, Landon! Sharon’s been so anxious to have you boys home this summer. Please feel free to stop by anytime,” my mom says with an Oscar-worthy smile.
I feel relieved and strangely disappointed at their early departure.
