Riley's Pond (New Adult Romance) (5 page)

“Shit.”

Riley grabbed my throat. “You ass! How could you do that to
her,
let alone your own brother.”

“Riley!” I coughed. “Damn, ugh, let go.” I pried his fingers from my neck, feeling the IV needle in the top of my hand, roll with the muscles. “Hell!” I choked.

He dropped back in the chair, glaring at me. “You had no right, Jaxson! Stealing Kaylee is low, even for you.”

“I didn’t
steal
her little bro. She came to me of her own free will.”

Riley leaned over the bedrail, cheeks puffing hard, teeth clenched. “Girls never come to you of their own
free will.
What did you promise her?”

Unable to stop myself from playing the asshole, I shot back an ugly reply. “A good time. I guess you fell short in that department.”

One hell of a bruise would radiate across my shoulder from Riley’s punch. Damn, when did he get so strong? Breathing deep against a painful wince, I stared back and found my worst nightmare…Riley, with
tears
in his eyes. Well hell. The Martin males were a bunch of wimps.

“Fine, maybe I sort of led her on. Don’t blame her, Riley. Sixteen year old girls are ‘in love’ with the idea of being wanted by someone older—not their high school boyfriend.” I raised my arm to block the fist, but Riley kept it in the air. “Really? I didn’t think you cared that much.”

“Did you go all the way with her?” he asked, the words forced through a locked jaw.

“Hell no! I’m not going to jail over some ‘wannabe-prom-queen’. Besides, I was too drunk to even, you know…”

“But dad said her shirt and bra were in the car.”

“Dude, don’t hit me because I’ve got enough internal organs trying to die right now. She came on to me
.
I mean, I’m not innocent. I teased her into taking off her shirt, but the bra? Totally her idea.”

Riley silently considered whether to believe me. I told the truth to that point. What I didn’t tell him, was
what
she tried to do while I drove. She may have been drunk on her ass, but knew exactly what she wanted. Made me wonder if my little brother had experienced Kaylee’s special talents.

The other secret I’d take to my grave. Kaylee jerked the wheel when I wouldn’t let her unzip my pants, crashing us into the oversized headstone, changing the name of our fine city from “Wellsville,” to “Ellsville.” A stupid spoiled brat, but too young to have a record. Me on the other hand, all they had to do was give these charges new page numbers.

“Riley, I’m telling the truth. I did nothing to her beyond maybe cop a feel. That’s all, I swear.”

“Who was in the backseat?”

“Dude . . .”

“Who? Dad’s worried they’re hurt and he’s drilling me for your friends’ names.”

Great, more secrets. In Riley’s present state of mind, if I told him Kaylee’s friend, Shar, and my friend, Brandon, hooked up in the back, he’d blab it to Dad, if not the whole damn high school. Brandon would be in jail for sure, and Shar’s parents would have the power to charge him with sexual assault because of their age difference.

Brandon, surprisingly, had been accepted to an ivy-league college and planned to become a hot shot lawyer. If the truth got out, his career would be over before it started. Nope. Not telling. If discovered later, it would be through someone else. Not by me or Riley.

I semi-faked a reaction to a bad pain. However, the “call of nature” competed with my spleen on the pain scale. “Riley, it was just some couple from the party. To be honest, I can’t even remember their names. Let it go. If they’re hurt, they’ve already seen a doctor.”

Riley stood, knocking the nurse call button off the side of the bed. “You’re a lousy liar, Jaxson.” He walked out without looking back, or giving me the controls.

“Hey!” I yelled out with too much force from my gut. “Nature” won, and thanks to Riley, I now needed my bedding changed.”

Six

GRANDMA’S HOUSE

Taylor

Sunlight peeked between the eyelet lace curtains on my bedroom window, sending a dotted shaft of light to the braided rug beside my bed. Tiny dust particles danced and twirled in the lemony ray, bringing a fond childhood memory to mind. I’d try to catch the sunbeams in my hand, or whirl around in the midst of them, pretending they were magic dust that could make me fly if I concentrated on happy thoughts, the same as Wendy in
Peter Pan
.

Life seemed simpler in my childhood and easier to keep a happy thought. But that was before my world shifted sideways. A few days ago, my parents gave me a most memorable gift for my eighteenth birthday. They announced their divorce—even showed me the paper signed by the judge when I doubted them. I still felt the anger that surged; toward Dad for leaving and at Mom for letting him go.

When Dad left, suitcase in hand, and Mom drove away in her shiny new Mercedes—her “buy-off” gift from dear old ‘daddy’, I packed a suitcase, grabbed my laptop and my mother’s credit card from the bureau drawer in her office. I booked a flight and came to Grandma’s—
my
parting gift. Before leaving, I emailed each of them, knowing they’d get my heartfelt message with their morning coffee.

Thanks for fucking up my life. I’m going to Grammy’s and if you’re smart, you won’t come after me. I’ll decide when I’m coming back…if ever. You’ve made enough decisions for me. This one’s mine.

–Taylor, formerly known as “Mommy’s gummy bear” and “Daddy’s princess.”

Grammy’s back faced me and she talked in a hushed voice on the telephone. I crept across the hall and hid in the dining room where I could eavesdrop, unnoticed. Once closer, I didn’t have to hear the words. Her tone revealed who she spoke with—her own wayward daughter. Mom.

“Grace, give Taylor some time. She’ll come around. Let her spend the summer. It will do her some good to be away from all the confusion and clear her head with some country air. Maybe you could use the time to figure out what you’re going to do with the mess you call your life right now.”

Apparently, Mom hung up on Grandma. “Well, I’ll be. She’s still a disrespectful brat.” She poured a cup of coffee without turning around. “You can come out now, cupcake. The wicked witch is parking her broom in Boston a while longer. You’re safe.”

“How did you know I listened?”

“Oh, angel baby, Grandmothers know everything
.
God gives us special gifts, especially where our favorite grandchildren are concerned.”

“I’m your
only
grandchild.”

“That’s why you’re my favorite.” She kissed my hair and handed me the cup of coffee, something my mother would have thrown a fit over, if she knew. “I believe you like your cream and sugar warmed with a bit of caffeine?”

I laughed, already feeling relief with my troubles thousands of miles away. At least for a little while.

“So, no ‘words of wisdom’ or questions. But, we’ll have to talk about this soon, Taylor.”

“Okay, Grammy. Just not today. I’d rather have waffles instead.”

“Yum. I haven’t eaten those forever. I hope the waffle iron doesn’t catch fire.” She peered at me through the steam coming off her tea. “Blueberries?” She sized me up, using fruit as an excuse.

“Just plain today. I want things simple for a while.”

She smiled. “You always were good at mind games. All right. ‘Simple’ it is for now.”

A basic, non-messy life. I had no idea moving halfway across the country to a little town named Wellsville would turn out to complicate it even more. Once I passed the broken town sign, I’d crossed into another dimension. One having the potential to shatter my already bruised heart.

**

An entire week passed uneventful and what once seemed peaceful, became boring. This afternoon I perused Main Street, finding a quaint boutique actually having cute clothes and fashionable accessories rivaling anything in Boston.

When I walked in, the lady behind the counter appeared frazzled, tossing sheets of plastic bubble wrap in the air while she talked on her cell phone. Hangers screeched across the metal wrack as I sifted through several shirts, but she didn’t notice me. I loitered at the jewelry display listening to her talk about preparations for someone going into the military. When she discovered me standing with an armful of clothes, she motioned for me to follow her to the dressing rooms, never missing a word in the conversation.

After I settled on two dresses to buy, one for church (a requirement for living with Grammy) and a cute sundress, I draped them on the counter along with matching sandals and a new navel ring. The woman finally disconnected from her call and wiped the back of her hand across a tear dampened cheek. She feigned a polite smile.

“Sorry about that. Life’s kind of crazy at the moment.” She pointed to the small ring I placed on top of the dresses. “Aren’t those little rings cute? We just got them in. I guess toe rings are the latest beach fashion.”

I laughed. “They’re navel rings.” Her nose wrinkled and I lifted the edge of my T-shirt to show her the one I wore. “See?”

“Oh, my! Doesn’t that catch on your clothes? It looks painful.”

“I forget it’s there.”

“Well, I only have boys,” she answered, scanning the price tags.

“Boys can have navel rings. And nipple rings, too. In fact, I’ve heard they also pierce—”

She pressed hands over her ears. “No more! I get the ‘willies’ thinking about body piercing.” Then she pointed a manicured finger at me, delivering a caution. “Make sure you sterilize it good, okay? You have no idea how many hands touched it before packaging.”

“I’ll do that,” I giggled, delighted at her old-fashioned thinking.

“Are you new in town?” she asked, ringing in my total purchase…on my mother’s credit card. I presently operated in payback mode.

“I’m spending the summer with my grandmother, Lydia Daniels.”

“Lydia? I didn’t know she had grandchildren. She doesn’t come to town much. I see her at church, mostly.”

“I think her garden keeps her busy.”

She handed me my things tucked in a green and pink polka-dot bag with shiny pink tissue, ruffling the top. “How old are you dear?”

“I just turned eighteen.”

“My son, Riley, will be eighteen in a couple of weeks. If you’re interested, most of the high school kids hang out at Barney’s on the edge of town on Friday nights. They’ve got bowling, pool tables, and I guess a bunch of arcade games, you know…stuff like that. Riley swears they have the best burgers.”

I backed away politely. The last thing I needed was to “hang out” with a bunch of strange kids who already had their cliques established. Nor did I want anything to do with boy drama. I left that back home, too. Nope. Simple life equaled “single life.”

“Thanks. I’ll think about it.” I pushed the door open and breathed with relief once outside the “chamber of interrogation” known as the
Denim & Ruffles Boutique.

I fingered the card in my jeans pocket. Time for one last purchase, this one, aimed at
dear old dad.

My feet carried me effortlessly through the doors of “Andy’s Auto Sales.” Two hours later, after a credit verification on the card—one sending my salesman’s eyebrows into his hairline when he validated the allowable limit, not to mention a possible police report to make sure the card hadn’t been stolen, and I drove back to Grammy’s in a shiny, new blue and white convertible Mini Cooper.

Before signing the final sale document, I had the unfortunate pleasure of talking with my father to authorize my use of the card. How could he argue when he so freely gifted cars to everyone to ease his guilty conscience?

Grammy disclosed a few details from my mother’s last vengeful phone call. Dad’s new girlfriend’s sixteen year old daughter got a barely used Honda Civic for her birthday, two months
before
my parents divorced. I had no choice but to “one up” the wannabe-stepchild. Blood supposedly ran thicker than water. I wondered if when my mother discovered Dad’s frivolous purchase, if she wanted to prove the cliché true by making my father
bleed
.

When I pulled into Grammy’s driveway, she let out a whoop and jumped in the passenger seat. I lied. My Mini wasn’t the last purchase. Grammy deserved dinner out and a new outfit.

Seven

HELL HATH NO WRATH LIKE THE FURY OF A GIRLFRIEND SCORNED

Jaxson

Finally, a chair without wheels. Gingerly, I lowered into the recliner, remote in hand, ready to watch something besides one of the five channels the hospital’s cheap cable feed allowed. Mom left for her shop and Dad had errands to take care of, but said he’d be home in a couple of hours. He tapped my new ankle bracelet and reminded me the computer in his
new
cruiser was programmed so he’d know if I went to the bathroom, let alone tried to leave the house.

Mom made Dirk go visit his friends so he wouldn’t bug me. My commissioned babysitter and still “madder-than-hell-and-not-so-little” brother roamed somewhere upstairs. He and I hadn’t spoken since the day he visited me in the hospital when I confessed to having
his
girlfriend—correction
half-naked
girlfriend, as my illustrious date the night I turned everyone’s lives upside down. The pain in his eyes told me he cared more for that stupid teenage drama queen than even he’d admit.

I really blew it this time. My family barely looked at me and the town probably erected gallows for my public hanging. Friends abandoned me for fear of being subjected to my father’s probing interrogation, all their dirty secrets uncovered that could make them a bunkmate in my pending jail cell. Nobody visited me during my week stay in the hospital. No flowers, phone calls, or even a stupid card. A written death threat would have at least been an acknowledgement someone cared I lay in a hospital bed.

The only visitor I dreaded coming, but luckily never showed, was
my
girlfriend, Ally. She’d refused to go to the party with me that infamous night, announcing she was fed up with babysitting my drunken ass and fighting off my less than romantic advances after the fact. Her rejection over the phone proved perfect timing for a certain sixteen year old beauty who flirted so heavily whenever she came to the house with Riley, I decided to see if she’d back up her seductive threats. Just as Ally hung up, Kaylee Baker walked through the doors of the convenience store, into my life…and officially out of Riley’s.