Nobody’s Hero (5 page)

Chapter Six

“Damn it, Danny!”

Brad stopped at the bottom of the wooden stairs. Danny paused halfway between the house and garage. Ray charged out the kitchen door, slamming it behind him. “You broke his nose? You broke his fucking nose?” He gestured with his cell phone, holding it up like evidence.

Brad stood straighter, shifting his balance so he could move quickly if he needed to. He stepped forward, just in case. “He’s lucky that’s all I did,” Danny said. “I should have called the cops.”

Ray’s face paled, fear flashing across it. “You can’t do that,” he said, his voice rising an octave. “He’s not the kind of guy you threaten.”

Brad stalked closer. “But he’s the kind of guy you set up with your brother?” He couldn’t hold back the question or the incredulous tone.

Ray backtracked. “It’s not like that. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“You weren’t there,” Brad fired back. “When his
charm
didn’t work, he was working his way up to force.”

“What the hell are you doing here, anyway?” Ray folded his arms across his chest, causing the tiger tattoo to writhe on his forearm. “This is none of your business.”

“This is Brad, Papá’s new employee. And he’s the one who made sure the creep didn’t do more than grab my arm when I tried to get away from him.” Danny rested his hand on Brad’s arm.

Ray sneered at Brad. “Convenient. You happen to be on hand to help my brother out and then you manage to come here and get hired? What’d you do, tell my father all about it?”

Brad stood his ground, keeping his face and body neutral. If he could manage that while attending a military academy intent on “making a man out of him,” he could do it with an irate older brother. As long as it wasn’t his own older brother.

“Back off, Ramón.” Danny stepped forward until he stood partially in front of Brad. “You should know better. Papá wouldn’t jeopardize the company that way.”

“Whatever,” Ray snapped. “Just...just be nice to Rob if you see him again.”

“Yeah, not going to happen, bro. Come on, Brad. Let’s get out of here.”

Ray let out a frustrated growl as he slammed back into the house while Brad and Danny walked to a mustard-yellow Jeep with a soft top. “Hop in,” Danny said, gesturing to the passenger door.

Brad got in, pulled a transparent CD case out from under his butt, then set it on the floor next to half a dozen more. Danny’s vehicle existed in a chaotic explosion of
stuff.
It wasn’t dirty or anything—nothing gross—but it was really cluttered. CDs filled the space by Brad’s feet, colorful beads and a wooden cross hung from the rearview mirror, and a couple of textbooks occupied the back seat, along with a pair of work boots, a pair of flip-flops, a hard hat, tool belt and—Brad blinked—a rubber ducky.

“Okay,” he said when Danny started the engine, “I get most of it, but what’s with the ducky?”

“Ducky?”

“The one in the back seat.” Brad nodded over his shoulder.

Danny craned his neck. “I have absolutely no idea,” he admitted. “I assume, though I can’t prove it, one of the kids is responsible.”

Brad could imagine little Veronica placing the ducky in Danny’s car. She’d probably think it was a good gift. “Need help taking a bath?”

It wasn’t until Danny leered at him that Brad realized what he’d said and what it might imply.

“That’s not what I meant!” he said quickly, before Danny could say something outrageous.

“Party pooper.”

“What’s the plan?” Brad buckled his seat belt.
Do not picture Danny naked in the tub.

“Well, I figured I’d take you on a quick tour—the town’s not very big, even including the two campuses, so it won’t take long. Then I thought we could grab something to eat.”

“Sounds good,” Brad said, cringing when he remembered the eleven dollars left in his wallet. Hopefully they could find someplace that had a decent value menu.

As promised, Northfield wasn’t a big town, with only about twenty thousand actual residents, according to the sign. A lot smaller than St. Louis. Danny drove them past the Carleton College campus, across the Cannon River to the St. Olaf campus. The whole way there he went on about the rivalry between the two private schools. Danny’s comments were so over-the-top they kept Brad entertained as they drove around. “A
goat
trophy?”

“Yep. Every year there’s a big football game and the winning team gets a goat trophy. It’s one of the longest-running football rivalries and the only one where the teams come from the same zip code. So, yeah, Northfield is full of fun factoids.”

It was almost seven when Danny pulled up to a popular chain restaurant. Brad’s heart fell. “Uh, Danny, do you think we could hit a fast food joint or something?”

“You don’t like this place?” Danny asked.

Brad squirmed in his seat. “It’s not that. But I’m a little strapped for cash right now, you know? I’ve got to watch my budget a bit for a while until I put away a little money.”

“Oh, no biggie.” Danny waved aside Brad’s concern. “I’ve got this.”

“No. I appreciate the offer, I do, but this isn’t a date, and I don’t want you to keep paying for my meals. I swear, your family has been giving me food since I got here. You last night, your dad this morning, and your mom practically stocked my cupboards.”

Danny released his seat belt and twisted in the seat, facing Brad more fully. “It’s an Ortega thing. I think the family would feed the whole town if they could. But there’s nothing to worry about. I have a gift card that’s expiring soon. You’ll be helping me out.”

He was lying. Danny’s face was never neutral.

“Besides,” Danny added, “my cousin Connie works here. You should meet her. She’s our age and goes to school at Carleton too. This way you’ll know more people by the time the next semester starts.”

Brad hesitated. He really couldn’t let Danny pay for him, and eating cheap was a lot easier to do at a fast food place.

Danny must have seen his struggle. “Come on. We’re already here. Are you going to make me drive across town to go somewhere else after I’ve already given you the grand tour? Think of the gas.”

Giving in to Danny was becoming a habit. A bad habit.

“Okay. Fine. Let’s go meet your cousin.”

Connie was a prettier, softer version of Danny. When she saw them waiting to be seated, she waved with the hand not balancing a tray of drinks. As soon as she passed out the drinks, she wove her way through the tables to them.

“Hey, cuz,” she said, tucking the tray under her arm. She turned to Brad. “And you must be Brad.”

His brows rose. How in the world...?

Danny elbowed him in the side. “My family talks. A lot. I bet the whole clan knows about you by now.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or scared.” Brad nodded at Connie. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hey, Paula,” Connie said to the girl manning the host’s podium. “Seat them in my section, would you?”

The hostess, who looked like a bored high school girl, popped her gum. “Okay,” she said, turning her attention back to the cell phone she held below the edge of the podium. Brad could see the blue glow of the screen and the girl’s rapidly darting thumbs.

Connie rolled her eyes. “Tell you what, I’ll take them back myself.”

“Uh-huh.” The girl’s attention never wavered.

Connie grabbed a couple of menus and waved at them to follow her. She led the way to a booth in her section. “I’ll bring you guys some water in a minute.” She set the menus on the table.

After she left, Brad picked up the menu. Everything looked good; living off buck burgers for the last few days had given him a new appreciation for variety in his meals. He’d purposely set aside the food Mrs. Ortega gave him to make sure he’d have something to take for lunches when work started. Hopefully between that food and the eleven dollars he had left, he’d be able to make it until his first check.

The prices on the menu were reasonable—everything around ten dollars—but the thought of Danny paying
again
had him searching for something cheap.

“They have the best steaks,” Danny said, pointing to an item on the menu. “You wouldn’t think so—this is hardly a steak house—but they know what they’re doing to a hunk of beef.”

“Yeah? I was thinking about the grilled cheese.” He kept his eyes on his menu, refusing to meet Danny’s gaze. He could practically feel those dark eyes boring into him.

“Grilled cheese? Seriously?”

When he didn’t answer, Danny pulled the menu down, forcing Brad to look up. There was sympathy and a hint of impatience in Danny’s expression. “Look, I told you, I got this covered. You can have whatever you want. You don’t have to pick the cheapest option.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” Of course it was, but he didn’t have to admit it. “I happen to like grilled cheese.”

“So do I, but I don’t go to a restaurant for it. At least get something you couldn’t make with a toaster and microwave.”

Brad wasn’t going to give in this time. Danny was too good at rolling over his objections. He would have argued his case, but Connie returned with their water.

She pulled out her order pad. “You guys want something to drink?”

“Water’s fine.” Before Danny could object, he said, “I’m not being cheap. I pretty much only drink water. Occasionally I’ll have milk, but that’s it.”

Danny shrugged. “If you say so. I’ll have a Coke. And can you bring us an order of hot wings with ranch dressing instead of blue cheese—I don’t do mold,” he said in an aside to Brad. “Also, I think we’ll have the nacho platter.”

“Sure thing,” Connie said. She made a notation in her order pad. “You ready for the rest of the order?”

Danny looked at him. Brad nodded and set his menu aside. “I’d like the grilled cheese with a side salad instead of the fries.” He ignored Danny’s disgruntled look.

“The usual,” Danny said when Connie looked at him.

“New York strip, medium, baked potato, extra sour cream, and a side of sautéed mushrooms,” Connie recited.

“Man, you’re good. No matter what your brother says.”

Connie rolled her eyes.

“Anything else?” She looked at Brad.

“I’m good,” he said.

When Connie turned away to submit their order, Brad asked, “You don’t do moldy cheese, but fungus in the form of mushrooms is okay?”

“What can I say—” Danny took a sip of water, “—I’m a man of contradictions.”

Brad shook his head.

“You don’t talk about yourself much, do you?” Danny stretched his legs across the space until his feet rested next to Brad’s hip on the opposite seat.

Brad glanced around to see if anyone noticed. Would Danny’s position look casual or intimate? “What do you mean? I talk.” Brad’s hands, which refused to stay idle, strayed to the plastic sweetener holder. He dumped the pastel packets on the table in front of him and sorted them into alternating blue, pink, yellow and white squares.

“Last night, and then again while we were driving around this evening, we talked, but you didn’t give away a single personal detail. I know I have a tendency to overshare, but you, you’re nearly taciturn.”

“Taciturn?” Something about the word, which sounded as though it came straight from the vocab section of the SATs, amused him.

Danny smirked. “Yeah, well, I’m an English minor. I like my fifty-dollar words. Do you need me to define it for you?”

“Nah, I’m good. Even though in my head I say it
tack-y-turn
, not
ta-si-turn
, I know what it means.”

“Great. So what’s up with the super-secret convo technique? Are you, like, a CIA plant or something, come to quash the St. Olaf/Carleton rivalry? Or, I know, you’re here to ferret out the secrets of the Minnesota Armed Militia.”

Brad snorted. “Wouldn’t that be cool? But no, I just don’t have much to say. I’m pretty boring.”

“Somehow I doubt it. Tell me something about yourself, something other than your beverage preferences.”

“Like what?”

“Like, where are you from? Your license plates are from Georgia, but you don’t have much of an accent.”

“I’m from St. Louis.”

“Then why the Georgia plates?”

“I went to school there. Norton Military Academy.”

“Military school? Planning to join the military?”

“No.”

“Teenaged troublemaker?”

Brad flinched. “Not exactly.”

The smell of buffalo wings and jalapenos stung his nose when Connie returned and set the appetizers between them on the table. “Here you go.”

Lucky interruption. There was no reason Danny needed to know why his parents had forced him to attend a military academy in the Deep South, or why he hadn’t returned to St. Louis after graduation. He wanted to leave the memories behind him where they belonged.

Connie looked over to where Danny’s feet were perched on the opposite seat. She flicked him on the ear. “Get your feet off the seat, you moron. What would your
mamá
think? Brad’ll think you were raised by cavemen or something.”

“Nah,” Brad said, smiling at the way Danny cringed away from his cousin’s hand even as he whipped his feet back to the floor. “I met Mr. and Mrs. Ortega this morning. I know better. He’ll have to take responsibility for his actions.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Ortega, hmm? I like that. Very polite. Maybe I should have you talk to Bobby. My boyfriend,” she said, noticing Brad’s blank look. “He’s forever calling my parents
the old man
or
the old lady
. One of these days my mom’s going to hear him, which would be a shame.”

“Why?”

She sighed dramatically. “Because I like his face, and it wouldn’t be the same after she messed it up.” Connie rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Danny. “Which reminds me. You’re still planning on coming camping with us, right?”

“Yeah, weekend after next?” Danny picked up a wing and dipped it into the ranch sauce. “I already cleared the weekend with Papá
.
” He popped the whole wing in his mouth and a second later pulled the angled wing bone out, minus the meat. He smacked his lips and took a large swallow of soda. “That’s how you know it’s cooked right,” he said, noticing Brad watching him. “And their buffalo sauce is awesome. Hot and spicy, like me.” He winked.