Dynamite (Stacked Deck Book 10)

by Emilia Finn

  “We don’t have horses,” Luke says. “But for twenty bucks, I can get you a ride on a cow.”

  “Drama.” I exhale and close my eyes as Luke turns off one street, and onto another. The second is narrower, less busy. “How are you, Mom?”

  “I’m good, sweetheart. Luke, honey, how do you treat your mother?”

  “Like the queen she is,” he answers without pause. “But with a side of smartass. She’d get way too comfortable if we were nice to her all the time.”

  “Fair call. And if I asked her to describe you in five words or less?”

  “She’d say I’m kind but weird. Smart, but I lack common sense. And that I’m the most protective and loyal person she knows, not including her husband and her other son.”

  “Sounds good to me. If you and Ally stop being friends, I want you to know you can still call me. I don’t have to hate you just because she does.”

  “Mom—”

  “Sweet offer, Mrs. Laramie. Now describe your daughter in five words or less.”

  “Ooooh.” She’s having way too much fun with this. “Loyal, smart, kind, much too uptight, and somewhat afraid of making waves.”

  “Mom!”

  “I make waves every single place I go,” Luke inserts. “It’s my calling card.”

  “Yeah,” I jump in before anyone else can, “and because of it, Luke and I are now tasked with undoing a crime we committed while intoxicated. Sonia knows about it, Mom, and I’m basically out of a job unless we can fix this.”

  “Well, I sure hope you succeed, honey. It would be awkward to explain to future potential employers why your own great-grandmother fired you.”

  “You’re not helping!” I clamp my elbows to my side when Luke laughs. I want to hit him. I want to push him out of this moving vehicle and feel his head pop under the tires. “And you didn’t even ask what crime we committed. Do you even care?”

  “If it was truly horrible, you’d have already told me. Not to mention, you’d already be on your way home… or to a penitentiary. Since you’re doing neither, I’ll assume it was a petty crime that was more laughs than it was serious.”

  “We sure laughed a lot,” Luke inserts. “Ally walked a bit like a duck for a while there, because she had to pee from all the laughing.”

  “Ugh,” I drop my head back. “Classy.”

  “It was funny as hell,” Luke adds. “She was grabbing at her crotch, Mrs. Laramie. She was in desperate need of a bathroom, so we had to make a side trip down an alleyway off Main so she could go.”

  “Wait, what?” I whip my head in his direction. “You’re not serious?”

  “As a heart attack,” he laughs. “You squat like a champ. In heels and everything.”

  “Stop it.” I slap my hand over my eyes and groan. “I can’t be in this town anymore. Mom, I’m coming home.”

  “Ask Luke to drive you. I’d like to meet him.”

  “You got it, Mrs. Laramie. I’d like to meet the ham in the Sonia and Ally sandwich anyway. Here we are.” He pulls up outside a massive wrought iron gate, winds his window down, and does something to a security box that looks an awful lot like an iPad taped to a brick structure.

  A melodic beep sounds, then he settles back inside the truck and smiles as the gates slide open like it’s normal to have such easy access to a protected place.

  “Er…” I lean forward to study the homes that spread out ahead of us. “Are we visiting the Gestapo, or…?”

  “Worse.” He mock-shivers and drives forward once the gate is out of the way. “My mother is in here, and she’ll cause more psychological damage than any Nazi ever did.”

  I sit back again and turn to him with a scowl. “Well, that’s untruthful and incredibly insensitive. Why are we here, Luke?”

  “Because I need a few things from the house, then we can head out again and plan our anti-crime crime. Sonia would be so proud.”

  “Is she nice?” Mom is still on the phone. Still listening in to this mess. “Luke, honey? Is she nice?”

  “My mom?” Luke shakes his head and sets my nerves into overdrive. “She’s brutal, but she’s also kind, and never unfair. She’ll test Ally, but she won’t—”

  “No.” Mom nervously clears her throat. “I meant Sonia. Is she nice?”

  “Oh…” He finally turns serious as he pulls up in front of a house with blue shutters, and cuts the engine.

  The houses that surround us are all the same. They each have different cars parked out front. Some have SUVs, some have sports cars. One has a skate ramp that looks like it’s claimed at least half a dozen broken bones over the years. The house we’re parked in front of has two cars parked out front. A truck, and a small Mazda with a sparkling steering wheel cover glinting in the sunlight.

  “Yeah,” he continues after a thoughtful moment. “Sonia is really cool. She saved my dad’s life a long time ago, and continues to save many others, simply by existing. She’s a miracle, and really fuckin’ cool, too. She’s old, but she’s got a sailor’s mouth if you get her going.”

  “Wow,” Mom breathes out. “Really?”

  “Was that ‘wow,’ like, wow, or was it how Ally says it when she’s really telling me to go fuck myself?”

  And just like that, Mom snorts, and the tension I’m sure I was the only one who felt dissipates.

  “It was a real wow. I’m glad she was there for your dad, honey. And for everyone else she has helped. That’s really nice to hear. Alright, babies. I can tell you’ve arrived where you’re going, so I’ll hang up and let you do your thing. If you get caught in your anti-crime crime, call me from the police station. I might be able to flirt your way out of trouble.”

  “Not with these cops, Mrs. Laramie. You try to flirt with the chief, and he’ll lock me up for life. He’s got a grudge against my family.”

  “Perhaps because of all the crime you commit?”

  “Nah, because my dad beat the chief’s brother up in a bar forever ago. They both wanted the same girl, they negotiated.” He looks to me and grins. “The other dude lost.”

  “Well, that’s unfortunate.” Mom hesitates. “He… uh… the other guy was okay?”

  “Oh sure. He was at my parents’ house last weekend. There are no hard feelings. Turns out, the other guy didn’t want my mom at all. It was a miscommunication.”

  “Wow.” Mom turns silent for a moment, only to then say, “That wasn’t a genuine wow.”

  “Got it.” Luke pushes his door open and slides out with a laugh. “Not impressed by the fight that never needed to happen. Hint taken.”

  “Allyson?” Mom’s voice brings me back to her. “If Luke fights anyone for you, just step aside and let it happen. Don’t wade in, okay? Hotheads are dangerous.”

  “Thank you, Mother. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Either from home, or from the police station. It’s like Wheel of Fortune!” she exclaims with far too much excitement. “I can’t wait to find out which it is.”

  “I think you need help.”

  I turn when Luke comes to my door and pulls it open. He offers a hand, and stares into my eyes with that smug grin he does that annoys me so much.

  I refuse to admit that it annoys me because I find it ridiculously alluring.

  “Goodbye, Mom. I love you.”

  I hang up, and stare at his waiting hand with trepidation.

  “We’ve come full circle.” He grins when I remain silent. “Don’t you see it?”

  “See what?” I take his hand, since it’s right there and I can pretend I don’t have a choice.

  Sliding out of the truck and dropping onto my heeled feet, I’m caught between Luke and his truck with nowhere to go.

  “The first time we met.” He leans closer. Too close, so his breath feathers over my chin. “You were hanging up with your mom, and you told me you loved me.”

  I roll my eyes. It’s my only defense as my belly does a flip. “I told my mom I loved her. You were being weird.”

  “Well, tha
t may be true.” His eyes sparkle when we’re this close. Golden flecks flash under the sunlight, despite the fact he’s looking down and blocking out the sun. “But you just did it again,” he continues. “You hung up, and you told her you loved her just as we came eye to eye.”

  “You’re still being weird.” And I’m beginning to breathe heavier. Stop it!

  “It’s a constant state of mind for me. It’ll grow on you, I promise. Come on.”

  He pulls me away from the truck and slams the door shut when I’m clear, then refusing to release my hand, even when I, again, try to pull it away, he leads me from driveway, to grass, to a wooden porch that doesn’t creak as we step onto it.

  I’m not sure why I expect the creak, except that I figure all wooden structures move and groan over time, but this one doesn’t, and the absence of sound catches my attention.

  “I have heels on.” Why that’s important, I don’t know. “I’m still dressed for work.”

  “We’ll grab a few things, then I’ll take you to your place to get changed.”

  “You just want to see my living space.”

  “Yes.” He flashes a wide grin and pushes the front door of this house open without knocking. “That is absolutely true. I wanna see your place so bad that I’m getting itchy just thinking about it.”

  “Not weird at all.”

  “And just so you know, I’m definitely gonna look inside your bedside drawers. Girls keep the coolest stuff in those, so I’m totally looking.”

  “I don’t have bedside drawers.”

  “You don’t– Oh, Mom!”

  Luke swings me into a kitchen to find a man that looks a hell of a lot like Luke himself, only a couple decades older and with a whole smattering of fresh bruises on his jaw, and with him, two women who look to be polar opposites. One is short, with short, dark hair, and elf-like features: a slight slant to her bright green eyes, and sharp cheekbones. The other is tall, with long, blonde hair, long limbs, and a kind smile.

  All three of them study us now, but the short woman, she telegraphs exactly who she is when her eyes snap to my hand clasped in Luke’s.

  Protective momma at twelve o’clock.

  “Hi, Luke.” The woman – the bear – moves away from the marble countertop she and her companions surround, and makes her way across the room in heels that are sexy enough I’m tempted to ask if I can borrow them.

  But that would be weird and wildly inappropriate… right?

  She studies me now, my heels, my skirt, my hair tied back in a neat ponytail. She gives me a full up and down, and finally settles on my eyes. “I’m conflicted.”

  “Sunshine,” the man grumbles. The dad, surely. “Cool it.”

  “But she’s holding his hand, Leo.”

  “Actually,” I try again to yank my hand from Luke’s tight grasp. “He’s holding mine. He won’t let go.”

  “She speaks up.” The woman tilts her head to the side. “But she’s dressed like…” She thinks for a moment. “An insurance saleswoman? A bank teller, perhaps.”

  “Therapist,” Luke answers, like he’s not at all afraid of this woman’s wrath. “Therapist-in-training, actually. Dad, this is Allyson Moore. She’s Sonia’s great-granddaughter.”

  “No shit.” The guy with ink and muscle, despite the fact he’s old enough to be my father – well, actually, he’s older than my dad by a decade or so – leaves the counter and comes to stand beside his wife.

  He pulls her under his arm, cinches her tight, and though he’ll have us all believe he’s hugging her, I suspect it’s more an attempt at restraint.

  He offers his free hand, and smiles when I take it with mine. “It’s so nice to meet you, Allyson. Sonia is very special to me.” Then he frowns. “I can’t say I knew she had children, though. I guess I never asked.”

  “That’s what I said,” Luke chimes in. “I had no clue, but it turns out Sonia has a son, who had a daughter, who had a daughter.” He points at me. Then he looks to his mother. “Casey, you have anything nice you’d like to say to our guest?”

  “Casey?” The woman lifts both brows and stings her son with just a look. She’s the shortest person in this room, the most petite, but she might be the most dangerous of them all. “You looking for a fat lip, son?”

  “You need some chocolate, Mom, or are you gonna drop the thug act and say hey?”

  “It’s not an act. I have a blade under my shirt, and a craving to hurt someone.”

  “For god’s sake.” The blonde woman at the counter comes over to our huddle and extends a hand. “Hi, Allyson. Welcome to our home. My name is Kit, and Luke is my nephew.”

  “She’s my aunt because she says so,” Luke says. “She’s my mom’s best friend, and depending on the day, she’s either alibi, instigator, or the one who’ll talk Mom down from criminal behavior.”

  “Today looks like a criminal kinda day,” Kit grins. “Luke is her first baby, see? And he’s just walked in with a girl’s hand in his. We’re all adapting.”

  “If it’s in any way beneficial for my defense, I’d like it repeated that I’m not holding his hand, he’s holding mine. And I can assure you, her thug act seems legitimate to me, so if I could remove my hand, I would.”

  “I believe you. Luke?” Kit looks at her nephew. “You knew what would happen. Are you trying to get a reaction, or are you that dense?”

  “Guess I’m dense, KitKat. Plus, I like making shit go bang. Did you know your daughter was at my place recently, starting fights?”

  Kit smirks. “Em? Not surprised. She’s feisty lately.”

  “Emma is your daughter?” I take another look at this woman – tall, blonde, beautiful – and I see the resemblance. “I met Emma. She was going to kick someone’s face in.”

  Luke snorts and finally releases my hand to make his way to the fridge. “She was going ghetto.”

  “Was it your face?” Kit asks me. “Should I apologize for my daughter’s behavior? I won’t mean it, but I understand that’s what’s socially expected in these situations.”

  “If it was her face,” Luke’s mom glares, “then I’d like to know why Em was prepping to go to war. Then I’ll start gearing up too.”

  “It wasn’t me.” A moment ago, I was fighting for my freedom from Luke’s strangling hold. Now, I stand all alone in this kitchen with two powerful women staring me down. “It was another woman. She was—”

  “It was Grace Risotto.” Luke stands at the open fridge, with an open carton of juice in his hand. “She turned up unannounced on Saturday morning and tried to make trouble. Em had just so happened to turn up not so long before, so when Grace tried to cause a scene, Em lifted her boot and teeped the fuck outta that bitch.”

  “She actually kicked?” Kit questions with wide eyes.

  “Nah.” Luke takes another chug from the carton, only to toss it back in and slam the door. “She was just hot air, but if Grace had made a bad move, bitch was gonna die.” Bringing a hand up, he swipes his arm across his lips and finishes with a wicked smirk. “I need my burglar costume, Mom. Ally and I are tasked with a very important crime tonight, so I need to dress the part.”

  “You are ridiculous!” I can’t believe the exclamation that bursts from my lips. The anger behind it. “A costume? You brought me here to the mom who’s gonna use my face for a dishrag, all for a little orange juice and a Halloween costume?” I turn on my heel and head back in the direction we came. “I’m done with this. You can put Chester back on your own.”

  “Chester?” Casey’s voice makes my steps falter. “Luke Hart. What the hell did you do?”

  “We stole him!” Where most people might shy away from that accusation in their mother’s tone, Luke merely singsongs and makes his way around the tiny woman to come to me. “We stole the shit outta him. But now Sonia knows, so she’s ordered us to put him back.”

  “How the hell are you supposed to put him back?” Casey exclaims. “He’s always locked up. If you get caught, Luke, your ass is going to pris
on, you know that, right?”

  “We won’t get caught.” Luke stops beside me and throws his arm over my shoulders. “Ally and I have a plan.”

  “You do?” Kit asks.

  “We do?”

  “We do!” Luke says with so much enthusiasm, I already envision myself in an orange jumpsuit. “Come along, Ally. Let me show you my bedroom—”

  “Not in my house, Luke!” Casey follows for a few steps as Luke leads me across the kitchen and back into the large entrance we first came through. But instead of heading outside, he pushes me up a set of stairs while his mom stays at the bottom. “Don’t you dare!”

  “She of zero faith,” Luke murmurs for me. He cinches me in so tight that my hand automatically searches for somewhere to rest, somewhere to find balance, which means it goes to his belt, which is basically the same as touching his ass. “We’re not going to my room to make out, Mom. You can relax.”

  “Luke Hart!” Casey shouts from the bottom of the stairs when we crest the top. “You have twenty seconds to get out of that bedroom. After that, Mommy has her own story time. Don’t test me!”

  “Not testing you,” he calls back and leads me into a bedroom that is the messy type of clean.

  Bunk beds shoved up against one wall, the blankets spread out on top like someone put in the effort to make their beds – but that someone was a five-year-old with t-rex arms. A flatscreen TV rests unevenly on a set of drawers, and an X-Box right beside it, all covered in a thick layer of dust. A remote control lies discarded on the floor, and right beside that, a pair of high-top Jordans that would have cost a small fortune, but now seem part of the landscape of a bedroom that once belonged to boisterous twin boys.

  A poster of Ariana Grande is tacked to the wall, and beside her, a picture of Britney Spears, but from her earlier years as a popstar.

  Turning to Luke with a lifted brow, I rest my hands on my hips and watch as he climbs into his closet.

  He actually climbs in, to get past the mess.

  “Fan of teenybopper pop music?”

  Luke’s movements barely slow as he turns his head to make sense of my words. He starts with a “Huh?” only to then catch sight of the posters. His lips notch up into a wicked smirk. “Yeah, their music turned sixteen-year-old me the fuck on.” He goes back to whatever he’s doing. “Me and Britney spent a lot of time together over the years.”