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Vantage Point

Page 7

by Amy McKinley


  She hadn’t given me a sign she was interested in me, so I couldn’t touch her as I wanted. I would have been taking advantage of her. I shifted in my seat, and she cuddled even closer.

  I needed to think of bullet wounds, doctor visits, football… Anything to take my mind off how amazing she felt pressed against me.

  “Max was… Max.” She gave a breathy laugh. “I never liked his friends, but mine sure did. He’s two years older and hung with a crowd my friends were drawn to. You know, those boys who were always getting into trouble. The complete opposite of what we girls were.”

  I couldn’t keep the smile from my mouth if I tried. I bet she was cute when she was younger. Now, she’s stunning. “I can just picture you with braids and hanging out at your friends’, studying.”

  She snorted a laugh. “I get the Pippi Longstocking image you’re going for. Don’t think you’re the first one to use it. There’s a reason I don’t have long hair.”

  I tugged at one of her loose curls, which brushed her shoulders. “I like your hair.”

  She shrugged against me. “Thanks. I do now, but I didn’t when I was growing up. As for the image you’re visualizing, you’re not far from the truth. I tried to stay out of trouble because Max was always in it, and I saw the hurt he caused to my parents and grandparents. Plus, I was way better than him with hiding when I’d done something wrong.”

  “Your grandparents lived with your family?” What would it have been like to have had grandparents who may have cared and could have saved me?

  “They did. I never really thought much of it until my parents died. After that, my grandparents filled their roles. My brother took advantage. He acted out, easily influenced by others. And his friends were not the good sort.”

  “I know the kind.” Dangerous kids were all we dealt with when we were growing up and trying to survive.

  “Hm. Well, I didn’t like the stress it caused my grandparents. He would get in trouble at school for smoking, ditching, or fighting. It only got worse after my grandfather passed away Max’s freshman year in college. That’s when he got involved in gambling and heavier drugs.”

  “And your grandmother? How did she handle him?”

  “She didn’t. At that point, there was no way to manage him, and he moved out after he’d stolen my parents’ china and sold it. My Oma hid what she valued most. I hated what he’d done to her.”

  “He still came around?”

  “Yeah. She’s old school in that way, and it’s rubbed off. She used to tell me that no matter what, Max was family, blood. And we couldn’t turn our back on him, but we could prevent him from pulling us down along with him.” She toyed with a thread that’d come loose on the hem of my shirt. “She lost her brother when they were young. Family values were very important to her, and she instilled them in us as well.”

  “Or just in you? Your brother didn’t understand what he had.”

  “I hear what you’re saying, but that’s where you’re wrong. Max screwed up often, but he loved us and tried to keep us from any repercussions from his mistakes. He did things to help around the house, making sure everything was working and that any chores our grandmother had were done.”

  So on the surface, he took care of them, but if he needed something, their well-being was fair game. In regard to her brother, I suspected she wore blinders, at least partial ones. He was trouble and would bring her down whether he meant to or not.

  I wouldn’t let that happen.

  Being in the same room with her was difficult. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold out from touching her. Kissing her. I had no idea what she wanted, and with the shit storm that would happen, it wasn’t fair for me to complicate things, so I had to put some space between us.

  I left Stella in our room so I could do some surveillance. The peacefulness of being alone on the roof washed over me, transporting me to another time. I valued being invisible for entirely different reasons.

  The wind raced, and menacing clouds rolled overhead. I made another pass around the roof’s perimeter, determining nothing suspicious was nearby. At least not yet.

  Chapter 11

  Stella

  I wiped the beautiful marble counter after Hawk and I’d finished the deli sandwiches he’d run out for. Life in a hotel was different. As luxurious as the place was, I wasn’t used to it. A wave of tiredness swept over me, a result of my full stomach. With all the recent events, I hadn’t been eating much. He’d noticed. Those intense eyes of his had stayed on me while we ate our food until I finished the last bite of my BLT.

  Something else sizzled in those sexy blue eyes, and it looked a lot like desire. I wished it had been. He’d taken the couch last night outside of the room I’d slept in. Lying beside me would have been so much better.

  He stood beside me as I cleaned the table, and I touched his forearm, bringing his attention to me. There was something I wanted to do, and I was going for it if there was any excuse to touch him. That man packed a serious punch.

  “Hawk, I want to see if there’s anything to what my grandmother told me, if there is jewelry or money that she hid. Maybe it could help.”

  “Help your brother with the trouble he’s in?”

  I moved around the counter and sat across from him in the sage-colored armchair. The room was gorgeous, but the colors weren’t really to my liking, decorated in greens and cream. They’d tried some strange modern twist.

  “Yes. Max told me he’d asked our grandfather about our grandmother’s claim to hidden treasure. He wouldn’t tell him anything.”

  “You know it isn’t a good idea to give the people after him anything.”

  “I have to try. Will you help me with this?”

  “Yes, but you can’t give what you find to those types of people, to loan sharks. We’ll deal with them another way.”

  We’ll see about that. I pursed my lips. I could elicit his aid, and once I found what Oma had been talking about, I would use the heirlooms or whatever to save my brother. I would never forgive myself if something happened to Max. Decision made, I went and got the hairbrush and jewelry box. I had to trust Hawk, and it was time. I placed the jewelry box on the table between us but kept the brush in my hand.

  I gestured for him to check out the small box. As he picked it up, turned it from side to side, then opened it, I worried the rubber grip at the end of my brush.

  “From your grandmother?”

  “Yes, it was hers when she was a little girl. My mom used it when she was young too.” I cleared my throat from the emotion that clogged it. “Oma and my mom gave it to me when I was seven. That’s when Oma’s parents had given it to her.”

  He placed it back on the table, and I took a deep breath before handing him the letter. “My grandmother wrote this before she passed away.”

  As he opened the letter and read what she had written, the words played through my head, as they had so many times.

  My Dear Stella,

  This jewelry box is one of the happy memories I carry with me from my childhood home, where a slice of my heart will always remain. When I gave the box to you, I felt as if my mother was standing over my shoulder. It was a good day.

  I’m so proud of you. We all are. You’ve grown into a beautiful woman. You too have another part of my heart.

  Love always,

  Your Oma

  “She was always doing that, saying there were shattered pieces of her heart. I often wondered if she had any left for herself.”

  “It’s nice that you have this to remember her by. I’m sorry, Stella, but I don’t know if this is worth what you’re hoping, and I don’t think you should part with it.”

  “No. I won’t sell it, but I can’t help but wonder what she meant. She was always going on and on about our family heirlooms and how they were safe with the one who kept her love safe.”

  “So her child or her husband?”

  “That’s what I would have thought too, but my mom didn’t know what Oma was talking a
bout, and Grandpa was alive when she’d first told me. I asked, and he said he didn’t have anything.”

  “I have something else from her, but I don’t think that’s it, either.” I rolled back the rubber to reveal the false bottom of the brush. With a few turns, I had the end of it off and tugged on the ribbon inside. The wrapped cloth came out, and I unrolled it for Hawk on the table. “This is her locket.”

  “Nice hiding place.” He grinned before carefully lifting the delicate locket.

  I shrugged because there wasn’t anything to say. He knew why I hid it. He’d heard the crashes and the fights when he’d lived next door to me.

  “Do you mind?” he asked as he swapped the necklace for the jewelry box.

  “No, of course not. I can’t figure out what she meant or if there are any other clues. That’s why I wanted to share all this with you.”

  Hawk turned the small box over in his hands again. His fingers traced the edges until he finally opened the lid and did the same to the inside.

  “Is the interior new?”

  “What?” I leaned over to see why he’d think that. “Why would it be?”

  He pointed to a strand sticking out from the seam in the back. “It doesn’t look as aged as the rest of the box, and with the loose thread, I thought it could be.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Excitement pinged around in my stomach.

  “Do you mind if I see?”

  He met my gaze, and I grinned. “Not at all. Go ahead.”

  When he grasped the thread at the base of the box and gave a gentle tug, I leaned forward. Could I have missed something so obvious?

  It unraveled with ease, and he pulled at the silk. With a soft whoosh, he separated and lifted the bottom piece out. It was a false bottom. The same silk fabric as the sides peeked from beneath a piece of folded paper. Our gazes collided as he handed the box back to me.

  “Looks like another letter.”

  My hands shook as I opened the letter addressed to me.

  My Darling Stella,

  Today tested our patience and strength when your brother came home with alcohol on his breath and a bruise forming along his jaw. There is a part inside of Max that festers. He rebels against something I’m not entirely sure of. I don’t even know if he is aware of what drives him to do what he does.

  I see a lot of my brother in Max. Their resemblance is uncanny. Stefan also had the same shade of blond hair, light eyes, tall and lanky build, and the heart of a poet. While Stefan embraced that side of himself, Max denies it and instead turns to destruction. Stefan channeled his pain and anger against an entity that needed opposing, maybe not by teenagers, but by many in a combined effort and force.

  Creativity should not be denied. If it is, the soul suffers.

  The family heirlooms I’ve told you about are for you to find. Follow the clues I’ve left for you, and when you locate them, use the legacy I’ve hidden behind however you see fit.

  We were fortunate to escape with the few possessions from our past we could smuggle out. My mother hid the heirlooms within two of my dolls, then inside a small chest. You may remember the dolls. They sit empty atop my dresser as I write to you.

  Know that I accept your decision surrounding the window to my past. You’ll discover a part of our history, one we kept hidden for many years, someday. With the destructive path your brother is on, that day is not today.

  I wish Stefan was alive to guide Max, to lift him up and show him we accept and love him, no matter what. Our job is to love Max, Stella, even though he will test your patience over the years.

  Have faith, my dear child. There will be a day your brother will return to us.

  Look to the locket, which holds pictures of your grandfather and me, and remember, not everything is visible from the surface.

  All my love,

  Oma

  Chapter 12

  Stella

  In the large bathroom with the spa-like rainwater shower and gorgeous travertine tile, I bent over the sink and splashed my tearstained face. The fluffy towel in my hand was soft as I dabbed the excess drops away, being extra careful around my already puffy eyes. God, I missed Oma.

  There had to be a clue in the letter. Why else would she have hidden it beneath the satin bottom of the jewelry box? What does it mean? I’d looked at the locket every which way but couldn’t find anything new. It was the same as always, an antique locket with two pictures inside, one of Oma and Opa when they were first married—they looked so in love—and one of my mom when she was a baby. She was so tiny and wore a cute little bonnet.

  We’d taken the pictures out, but there was nothing behind them. That made the most sense with the last line in her letter. What else could it have meant?

  Hawk had given me time to read the letter and deal with my emotions. He’d gone back to the roof, making me promise not to open the door for anyone, but no one would come. I hadn’t told my brother where we were after I’d hung up with him the day before. I couldn’t help it. I had to call to hear his voice, to make sure he was okay.

  Especially after that letter from Oma.

  Once I was sure Max was fine, I ripped into him, demanding to know how he could have told the people he was involved with about me. It was one of the most difficult conversations I’d had with him, aside from a few back in college where I had to hang up the phone because he was just too drunk to communicate. But it was college, and a lot of people indulged. Even I had a few legendary hangovers.

  I couldn’t make excuses for him any longer. I had stopped a long time ago. That didn’t change the fact I would do anything in my power to protect him.

  Dropping the towel on the counter, I wandered back to the main room of our suite. It was a lovely hotel, and I wished I could enjoy it instead of coping with the claustrophobic sensation of being trapped.

  The sound of a cell phone ringing startled me. It took a minute to realize it was coming from my purse. Oh no. I’d forgotten to power it down and put it in that pocket thing Hawk had given me. I was just so worried about Max that I kept checking to see if he’d called. How could I have done that? Last time, we had to change hotels because Hawk thought we were compromised. I swiped a tired hand over my forehead then grabbed my phone.

  After I peeked at the caller ID, my pulse went into overdrive. It was Max.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Of course I’m not all right,” he whisper-shouted.

  “Why are you trying to be quiet? Where are you?” An acute uneasiness skated across my suddenly chilled flesh.

  “I need the ring. It was a mistake.”

  “What are you talking about?” Is he drunk? “The ring you gave me because it reminded you of family?” Dammit, Max. It was just like him to make a sweet gesture as he had and then take it away as if it had meant nothing. My hands started to shake from both anger and pain. I’m trying, Oma, but he makes it so hard.

  A muffled sound came from his end, and the silence between us stretched. Minutes ticked by, but I couldn’t bring myself to hang up. When the receiver cleared once more, I heard the clink of glasses. “Are you at a bar?”

  “Stel,” he slurred. “I gotta go. I’ll grab the ring when I see you.”

  “Wait—”

  The silence from the call disconnecting jolted me. He doesn’t know where I am. How will he find me?

  A door shut, and I gasped as I turned around with my phone raised like a weapon. “Oh, you scared me.” I sagged against the couch, my back to the window, as Hawk walked into our suite.

  He stopped, and the air crackled with expectant tension. “You were on the phone?”

  “Yeah.” I tilted my head, confused by the alarm that had momentarily crossed his features. Max had his phone, so no one would track us. We were still safe.

  “With Max?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Did you tell him where you’re staying?”

  I shook my head no. “But he said he needed the ring he gave me.”

  �
��What ring?”

  “This one.” I pulled the long necklace free from beneath my shirt. I’d kept it hidden away as we were running around, and I’d almost lost it once when the chain caught. The ring, a pretty little piece of jewelry, dangled between us. It was delicate and unique, even though it wasn’t particularly expensive. “I don’t know why. It’s not worth anything.”

  Hawk frowned. “That looks familiar.”

  “Oh. Well, the etching is an infinity symbol, and the flowers that are between each sideways figure eight are edelweiss. Maybe you’ve seen the design somewhere before?”

  He grunted a noncommittal response, and I rolled my eyes. “What I thought was odd was he gave it to me as a symbol to remind me that he loves me. So why does he want it back?”

  My heart sank at the thought of wearing a ring my brother probably took. I would have wanted it back if it were mine, especially since the edelweiss flowers and the meaning behind them reminded me of Oma and Opa.

  I met Hawk’s gaze and caught the flash of alarm as he came to the same conclusion as me. “Maybe he stole it, and the owner knows?”

  Glass shattered in a violent burst of deadly shards. My body tensed as Hawk lunged for me. On no!

  Chapter 13

  Hawk

  Fuck, they found us. A bullet had pierced the window of our hotel room.

  I pushed off with my toes and lunged for Stella. In a blur of red curls, I tackled her to the ground. I wrapped my arms around her and twisted to the side to take the brunt of the fall.

  On the floor, I lifted off her body, quickly scanning for signs of injury. A few minor cuts from the glass trickled blood down her neck and cheek. “Are you hurt?”

  The wide, blue-eyed stare that greeted me offered nothing. Another visual scan revealed no punctures with blood blooming around them. “Stay down,” I ordered.

  Had to be the call to her brother.

 

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