by C. L. Stone
“But you knew,” I said in a small voice.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “We never had a girl before. They weren’t prepared.”
I blushed. A finger betrayed me, fluttering up to my lip to pinch it to my teeth.
“Unfortunately I believe that’s our problem now. The boys don’t know how to respond to you.” The smile lifted higher. “I don’t think I was prepared for you, either.”
“What do you mean?”
He turned his head, removing his glasses. Without them, his face was softer, the perfect angles beautiful. He bent forward, as he leaned close to me, his face inches from mine. His gray eyes sought out mine again, now uncontested and breathtaking. “In the past few weeks, I’ve seen this little girl take on an entire school where the boys won’t leave her alone, a principal and a vice principal are hell-bent on taking her down with us, withstand hours of torture from her own mother, and a host of other problems crashing around her, only to bravely turn around and willingly want to face off again for the most unselfish reasons.” The smile filled in fully, something I wasn’t expecting and enough to get my heart racing. “You’re the strongest little beautiful creature I’ve ever met.”
The finger at my mouth pinched harder until I felt the bite at my teeth. I released it, shoving my shaking hand behind my back. “I don’t ... I ...”
“But now we’ve got a new job to do. If you’re still interested in sticking with us ...”
“I am,” I said, convinced, but blinked back when I realized I’d just interrupted Mr. Blackbourne.
He nodded, the gray eyes confirming. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask for your patience, and for your help.”
“What’s the problem?”
He opened his glasses again, putting them back on his face. He looked out at the lake again. “This isn’t going to be easy. The boys are having problems adjusting to you because you’re a girl.”
“I didn’t imagine they would dislike a girl.”
“They don’t dislike girls. The problem is they’re treating you like one.”
I couldn’t stop the half smile on my own face. “You’re worried about them treating me like a girl?”
“Like you’re incapable of making your own decisions,” he said. “Of not trusting your instincts. Or becoming jealous. Or wanting to babysit you. Or a host of other complications they enforce and don’t realize they do. It’s hard enough to work with you when you’re new to our group. It is understandable that you would hesitate to trust us at first. You’re finding your place and testing us. I know all that. It’s inexcusable that they’re unwilling to listen and trust you. I have tried to teach them better.”
My heart leapt at hearing his words. I knew it. I’d known it with North and the others. They weren’t trusting me. Of all the boys in the group, I never imagined Mr. Blackbourne being the one to understand me so well. “I thought perhaps if I joined the Academy, maybe that would help us both.”
He shook his head. “You couldn’t join us unless they trusted you, and you trusted them.”
I frowned. “Kota mentioned that.”
His eyebrow shifted on his head. “He’d told me he didn’t want you to join.”
“He said that, too.”
“Do you not want to now?”
I bit my lip, unsure. I had thought I wanted it, but maybe Kota was right, maybe I was interested for the wrong reason. My desire to become part of them, to really feel accepted, wasn’t going to happen in the way I thought. I realized I didn’t know enough about the Academy to make an informed decision. “I thought I did. I think I still do. Maybe I don’t know enough about it yet. I think I want to because you and the others are on the inside. I feel too out of the loop.”
He chopped his hand sideways through the air, as if cutting this off. “We’ve got time to worry about your Academy eligibility later. Before we can even approach that topic, we need to pull ourselves together.”
“What do I do?” I asked, desiring the answers. Mr. Blackbourne understood me. It was all I needed to know. Someone I could trust to talk to me, to tell me the answers.
“One at a time,” he said. He held up a single finger. “Move forward with us. Work with us at the school. Take the guys on one at a time, if you can.”
“How?”
“Listen to them,” he said. “You’ve got a natural instinct to how people feel, and what they’re saying without them telling you out loud. You’re also very clever. You know things they don’t, things I can’t teach them. You’re going to have to show them exactly what a girl can do.”
“What do you mean?”
His millimeter smile returned. “Like tumbling off of a balcony and walking away from it. Like when you sail across the top of a car hood and land feet first only to target and fire like a pro without any training. Like showing them they can’t boss you around by flipping one of them over. You’ve got a remarkable instinct in you.”
I blushed, disbelieving he’d bring all those things up. He had heard about North. “What if I don’t know what to do?”
“You can talk to me at any time,” he said. “Call me or send me a message. I’ll come find you. Every time. I promise.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry for not calling you sooner.”
He pursed his lips, his eyes unyielding. “I know why you hesitate. It was for the same reason I had for not telling my mother I wanted us to leave my father and never return. I thought I might push her away and she wouldn’t care about me anymore. Don’t wait. You don’t have to be afraid of bothering me or letting me know when the guys are doing something overwhelming. I’ll help you. We’ll get this family back together. When that happens, we’ll see about what to do after. Family first. Academy second.”
I nodded. “Just tell me what to do.”
He tilted his head toward the shore. He walked slowly up along the dock with his hands in his pockets. “North took things pretty hard yesterday. He blames himself for it all.”
I blushed. “I made it worse when I ... when I flipped him.”
“You did the right thing,” he said. “You showed him that he can’t bully you into trusting him. It’s what he’s been needing. And to be honest, I’m glad you did it in front of the others. They’ll know better than to try.”
“I might have hurt him.”
His millimeter smile returned. “The day you actually physically hurt one of my boys, I want to hear about it. I’ll reprimand them for being caught off guard by a pretty face.”
My mouth popped open. Did he just ...
“But North has been on a rampage since you won’t talk to him.”
I flinched. “What’s going on?”
“He dismantled that Jeep of his. Last I heard, he was starting on the truck. The Jeep is unsightly, but we do kind of need that truck. I don’t really have the time to go get another one outfitted.”
The Academy used North’s truck? “If he’s angry with me, shouldn’t I avoid him until he calms down?”
“You do calm him down. Or you can if you talk to him.”
“Last time I did, I ended up arguing with him.”
Mr. Blackbourne stopped a few feet short of his sedan. He turned to me, gazing down at my face. “Yes. You had the right idea. You need to continue to argue back.”
“Isn’t that ... not nice?”
“No. Listen to what he has to say and if you disagree, speak up and say so. He’ll listen. Sometimes you have to say it louder but he’ll hear you out. The way North shows how he cares about you is by telling you, sometimes louder than he means to.”
“He yells because he cares?”
“He yells to show he cares about you.”
“What if he doesn’t care?”
“He won’t talk to you.”
I remembered Luke telling me about North, about how a long time ago, when Luke and North first met, that North refused to talk to anyone. Luke thought he was deaf and learned sign language just to try to communicate with him. Luke, too, didn’t like
it when I had teased him once that I wouldn’t talk to him. “So I messed up when I tried to walk off. He thought it meant I didn’t care about him.”
“Don’t let him getting loud or angry upset you, or try not to. I know it might not be easy. You’re very sweet, but sweet doesn’t have to be quiet and meek. If you need to walk away because it is too much, tell him that. Tell him you’re not leaving him, but you’re too upset to talk to him any more right now and you’ll talk to him later. Just don’t tell him you won’t talk to him anymore. He hates that.”
My face heated, realizing my mistake. “I’d told him I was done talking.”
“Which is why I’m down two vehicles and a pair of brothers. Luke can’t leave the premises because he’s worried North will run out of vehicles and might go find a car that doesn’t belong to him to dismantle.”
I nodded, steeling myself for what I had to do. I had to swallow the pride back. North needed me. I wasn’t going to let him think I’d abandoned him anymore. “Can you take me to him?”
NORTH REPAIR
The Taylor property was far beyond what I’d envisioned, and the moment I laid eyes on it, I couldn’t have imagined what I thought otherwise, because it was exactly what it should be.
A run down Victorian house sat to the right of a large clearing, with a large forest surrounding it. On the left were a couple of trailers. One looked completely run down. The other looked nearly new, with a few repaired places where paint had been reapplied. The house looked in severe disrepair, with broken windows along one edge, covered up with boards.
“Outside of running a diner, Mr. Taylor also repairs old homes and sells them for a profit.” Mr. Blackbourne slowed his car as we approached. “Although he’s been hanging on to this one for a while. Luke and Mr. Taylor have moved in, but North still lives in one of the trailers. I think he prefers the privacy.”
There was a large, four car garage in the back. One of the garage doors had been rolled open. Parts were strewn out into the gravel drive in front of it. The Jeep sat outside the garage, the hood up, the inside gutted. The truck was inside the open garage. I couldn’t see North.
Mr. Blackbourne parked by the house. “I should let you go alone. If I come with you, he probably wouldn’t understand. He might think I’m making you say you’re sorry so he’ll get back to work.”
“That’s not what you’re doing?” I asked, the quip escaping my lips before I could stop myself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean ...”
“You’re not sorry,” he said. There was a twitch at the corner of his mouth like the smile was going to return but he stopped himself. “But no, I’m not. Just remember, we’re a family. Family first.”
I nodded. I hoped North remembered that.
“I’ll be inside with Luke. We’ll be watching. If you need to escape, head to the house.”
“I’ll try not to.”
This time the millimeter smile stayed. “I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”
I stood outside of the car, facing off the garage. I hesitated. I didn’t see North and I wasn’t sure about approaching him when he was angry. I tried to tell myself I’d say I’m sorry, but would it help?
A gentle hand found my shoulder. I turned to find Mr. Blackbourne’s lean, smooth fingers touching me, showing support. He said nothing to me, only nodded. He released me, walking off.
I’m here.
Mr. Blackbourne knew what I needed.
I stepped quietly around the parts strewn out into the gravel. The parts, while I wasn’t familiar with car parts in general, didn’t just look removed, they appeared dented. Did he throw them out of the garage?
A hammering of metal against metal sounded, snapping my attention to the truck. I finally found North on his back underneath the front section of the truck. His legs protruded out from underneath. Brown sawdust was still ingrained into the material of his black jeans.
A tall bottle of whiskey sat next to his legs, a quarter of the liquid drained. He drinks? I thought he hated drinking.
North started hammering the underside of his truck again, so I stopped trying to tiptoe. The garage was bigger than I thought from the outside. There was a minivan, a large cargo van and an older model sedan in the back that I hadn’t seen him drive yet, all black. The SUV was missing.
I scooted close to where North’s legs were hanging out. I thought of calling his name, but when he didn’t stop hammering at his truck, I grew frustrated. I could have cut a foot off, he wasn’t paying attention. So much for being an ever vigilant Academy guy.
I snapped up the bottle of whiskey, examining the black label. My parents didn’t drink. I only recognized the Johnnie Walker label because I’d once seen it in a movie. I sniffed the top, inhaling the strength of the alcohol inside. Pungent. I wasn’t sure why people even started drinking.
North stopped hammering. A grease covered hand appeared, reaching blindly for the bottle that wasn’t where it was supposed to be.
I put the bottle to my lips. I wanted to know what he was doing to himself. I let the liquid fill my mouth, and swallowed half of it before feeling the burning. I pushed the bottle away, standing there with a mouthful of the rest of it, wanting to spit it out or maybe even spit it back inside the bottle.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” North thundered at me. He was out from under the truck on the ground and looking up with his mouth open as if in disbelief I was standing there. He dropped whatever part he was holding, to the concrete floor of the garage with a clatter. “Why the hell are you drinking that? Spit it out.”
I straightened, looked him square in the eye and forced myself to swallow the rest I had in my mouth. I cringed after the burn. North was right the first time. What was I doing?
His eyes widened at me. He scrambled to stand up, lunging after me. “Give me that bottle.”
I pulled back, holding it behind me and out of reach. “You were drinking it.”
“No. You don’t get to drink.” He stood in front of me, fists clenched. His dark hair was nearly sticking up on his head. Shadows hovered under his eyes. I wasn’t sure he slept at all.
“If you do it, I do it.”
“No, you don’t,” he glared at me, taking a step forward and holding out a hand. “Give me the bottle, Sang.”
“No.” I stepped back, holding it back behind myself and turning to block him. “I’ll stop when you do.”
“I’m not drinking it right now.”
“You were,” I said.
He grunted. “I thought you didn’t want to talk anymore.”
“So you start drinking?” I moved the bottle from my back to look at the liquid sloshing around. “It doesn’t even taste good.”
He leapt forward, snatching the bottle from me. He reeled his hand back, turning toward the open garage door and launched it out among the many parts I imagine he’d also thrown out in a similar manner. The bottle shattered amid the gravel. He turned back to me. “You don’t get to fucking drink.”
“We were at that party and you didn’t drink. You said the others were stupid for drinking.”
“I said they became stupid and did stupid things together, like shoving us in a closet together.”
The smile on my lips betrayed me. “As I recall, that particular part wasn’t too bad.”
His eyes widened. He mumbled. He shoved his fingers through his mess of dark hair. “What do you want, Sang?”
The question confused me. “I’m ready to talk again,” I said, going with what Mr. Blackbourne had told me about. “I couldn’t finish before but now I can.”
“What the fuck does that mean? God damn, I don’t understand you sometimes.”
“What don’t you understand?” I asked, quieting and genuinely curious.
His mouth opened, his lips parting wide. “I ... you ... you’re ...” He grunted. “I need you to tell me what’s going on around you. You can’t keep it to yourself.”
“I do tell you.”
“You need to trust me,
Sang.”
“I do trust you.”
“No,” he barked. He pointed a fist at me. “No. Not believing I won’t hurt you isn’t the same as trusting me. It was a god damn emergency signal. What part of emergency did you think was acceptable to not tell us?”
“It could have meant they were just lost and needed help finding their way back. We didn’t know at the time. It could have been anything.”
“It meant he was waist deep in shit and you fell in after him. And when we finally pull your ass out and bring you back to life, you’re telling me you think you’re stupid.”
“No, I said you thought I was too stupid and helpless to be useful.”
“Well it is stupid not to tell us what’s going on, especially important things.”
“How am I supposed to know, North?” I said, feeling my voice rise an octave higher and the strain at the last word. I waved a hand in the air. “How am I supposed to know every little thing to tell you?”
He held his hands up, palms up. “Tell me everything, Sang. I’ll tell you what’s not important. I won’t care if it isn’t important. Just start talking.”
"I do talk to you. I tell you about the dreams.”
His voice rose. "It’s also all the stuff you don’t tell me. You can't even tell me to come over when you want me to."
My mouth moved, unsure how to respond.
"Admit it. You hesitated. You hesitate every time. Even when I tell you I can come for you."
I wanted to ask him which time, but it was every time, wasn't it? When I had a dream, he asked if he should come over and I said no. "I didn't want you to come when it was so early."
"I don't give a fuck what time it is, Baby," he said. "I don't care if you're bored or scared or making dinner. Call me. Tell me when Luke is being too annoying. Tell me when Rocky's staring at you in the hallway—"
“You’d have to follow me around all day if I have to tell you all of that.”
“Don’t make me start!”
I grunted, a low sound at first, that rose in my throat. “North!” I called. “You ... I ...” I wanted to yell some more, but my voice wasn’t going to let me. I couldn’t compete to yell at him at the level he was. When I tried, my throat felt like it was closing in. I coughed.