A Colton Target

by Beverly Long

  “Evening, Tilda,” he said, his tone even.

  “Evening, Blaine,” she replied, trying for the same. It was hard because her throat felt as if it might be closing up. “Kind of dressed up for turkey and cheese sandwiches.”

  He stepped into the house. “Nobody is eating that tonight.” He looked at Josh. “Ready?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  She saw Josh reach for his backpack, which she had not previously noticed next to the couch.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “In case you haven’t already figured it out, you and I are going to prom,” Blaine said. “We’re going to take Josh with us as far as The Chateau, where we’re handing him off to my mom. He’s going to spend the night at Colton Manor. Assuming you’re okay with all of that.”

  It touched her that he’d done all this but was still willing to give her the chance to veto the idea if she wasn’t comfortable with it. “You’re good with this?” she asked Josh.

  “Oh, yeah. It’s a movie marathon night. And there’s going to be popcorn and ice cream sundaes.”

  “You may never want to come home,” she murmured, her heart feeling very full. How wonderful for Josh to have another grandmother.

  “My dad is getting home today, so he’ll be there, too,” Blaine said. “I spoke with him about an hour ago. He wanted to call you, to apol—” he looked at Josh. “To make sure that you knew how much he was looking forward to meeting Josh.”

  She thought he’d been about to say apologize but had changed his mind, given that Josh was right there. That would have elicited way too many questions that were better left unasked right now. But he was also trying very hard to make sure that she didn’t get any surprises, that her decision was made with full information. And truthfully? She didn’t really want any apologies from Russ Colton. Yes, he’d been wrong, but now that she was a parent, she had a little better understanding of the things a parent might do if they thought they were protecting their child. “I think it’s high time that Josh meets him.”

  She and Russ would talk and hopefully clear the air. She wanted him to understand that she’d never be bullied again. But also that she was grateful that her son was a Colton. But that conversation didn’t need to happen today.

  Because right now, she had a date. With a handsome man. Who made her heart flutter.

  Chapter 20

  “You look lovely,” he said. It was true. Her royal blue dress was a concoction of silk and lace. Her skin sparkled and her long, dark hair curled over her shoulders. She was the prettiest girl at the dance. Although no dancing had yet occurred. But the waiters were about to clear dessert, so it wouldn’t be long now.

  He could hardly wait for the opportunity to pull her close. To slide up against her. To slip his hand under...

  Nope. Not going to happen. She was one of the official chaperones of the event. Therefore, they were going to have to keep it G-rated. But once the night was over, it was back to her house. Her empty house. With no thirteen-year-old boy who had the potential to overhear. Not that the sex had been bad. Just the opposite. But still, they’d had to be a little restrained.

  Tonight, they might christen every room. The kitchen table seemed sturdy enough. Would certainly give him something to smile about whenever he ate his breakfast cereal there. Which, if he had his way, would be more often than not.

  He’d recognized a few of the other teachers. Some had been teaching there when he and Tilda had been students. A few others had been students at the same time. The rest, like her friend Raeann Johnson, were strangers.

  All seemed to have an interest in him. Not because of who he was but because they liked and cared about Tilda. That was immediately obvious. And she had a strong rapport with the students who were there.

  “I feel a bit like a goldfish in a bowl,” he admitted from the corner of his mouth.

  “It’s not me,” she denied. “It’s the seventeen-and eighteen-year-old girls who are staring at you, which in turn is causing their boyfriends to narrow their eyes in your direction.”

  He’d seen a couple of those looks, and it had reminded him of how his fellow soldiers had looked at the enemy forces. “I’m taken,” he said lightly. This wasn’t the time or the place to tell her what was in his heart.

  She turned to look at him. “This is really very nice,” she said. “And totally sneaky. I’m not sure I am comfortable with you and Josh being in cahoots. Sometimes I already feel overmatched.”

  “The corsage was his idea.”

  “I didn’t think he knew anything about corsages,” she mused.

  “I think he looked it up on his phone.”

  “Aha. Finally, it becomes a tool,” she said. “The flowers are lovely. I catch a whiff every time I raise my fork. And the food was delicious. We need to tell your mom.”

  The Chateau had hit it out of the park. The food had been excellent, the service was very attentive, and now the lights were dimming just as the DJ started the first song. “I still kind of miss the gym with the paper streamers.”

  “Me, too,” she agreed. “But as a chaperone, I’m very grateful that The Chateau takes care of all the cleanup. Once the last song plays and all the kids are gone, we’re done.”

  “Can’t wait,” he said, winking at her. Then laughed when she blushed. “Come on, beautiful,” he murmured, taking her hand. “Dance with me.”

  * * *

  They were two hours into the dancing, with less than an hour remaining, when she whispered to Blaine that she needed to visit the ladies’ room. She weaved her way through the crowd, smiling and greeting students who looked way too grown-up in their ball gowns and tuxedos. Everything was running smoothly. Nobody had attempted to spike the punch, and with the exception of one girl’s zipper breaking, there had been no wardrobe malfunctions of any significance. The zipper had been fixed with a few strategically placed safety pins and some two-sided tape magically offered up by the manager on duty.

  The restrooms were located at the end of the hallway. She went in, took care of business and was washing her hands in the sink when the door opened.

  Toby Turner staggered in. She could smell the liquor on him.

  “This is the women’s restroom, Toby,” she said, her heart starting to beat fast. He was just a kid. She shouldn’t be afraid. But he was six inches taller and probably fifty pounds heavier than her.

  “We’re not in school. You can’t tell me what to do.” His tone was belligerent.

  “We’re at a school function. Get out,” she said, her voice as firm as she could make it. There was nobody else in any of the stalls. Nobody to help her.

  He took a step towards her.

  She held up her hand. “You’re going to get yourself into trouble here, Toby. You’ve been drinking, and you’re not making good decisions.”

  He swayed. “Nobody cares. Nobody gives a damn.”

  “I do, Toby. I care. And I’ll do what I can to help you, but you have to help yourself, too. Now, get out of here. I’ll talk to you in the hallway.” Where there were other people.

  “No.” He took another step forward.

  Should she scream? Would that enrage him? Would anyone hear her over the music? How long before Blaine missed her?

  She judged her chances of getting past him and didn’t think they were that good. He was drunk and swaying, but there wasn’t much room to maneuver by him.

  “Toby, I know you’re a smart kid. Be smart. Step—”

  The door behind him opened. He whirled. “Get the hell out!” he screamed at a startled girl.

  She stepped back, letting the door close. Tilda didn’t know if she’d seen her or not. If she had, surely she’d go get someone. “She’s going for help,” Tilda said, with perhaps more confidence than she felt.

  “Doesn’t matter. Neither one of us is getting out of here.”

/>   * * *

  Blaine was checking his watch for the second time when a young girl, her long blond hair almost flying behind her, came running up. She almost skidded to a stop in front of him. The look on her face scared him. “What?” he asked.

  “Toby Turner is in the ladies’ room. With Ms. Deeds.”

  “What?”

  “He screamed at me to leave. He didn’t look right.”

  Blaine ran. He’d always been fast, but now it seemed as if it was taking him forever to cover the hundred plus yards. He stopped outside the door, listened but could not hear anything, and pushed on the door.

  It didn’t budge. It had been locked from the inside. “Tilda,” he yelled. “Tilda, can you hear me?”

  “I’m here, Blaine.”

  “Okay, honey. Open the door, then.”

  “I...can’t just yet,” she said.

  Now a crowd was gathering behind him. “Go back into the ballroom,” he told them. “I need everybody out of this hallway. Now.”

  They went. Everyone but Raeann Johnson and her husband.

  “Are you hurt?” Blaine asked through the door.

  “No,” she said.

  His heart maybe slowed, but he didn’t think so. He was running on pure adrenaline. “Toby, this is Blaine Colton. I need you to listen to me. You need to unlock this door and let Ms. Deeds come out. Right now.”

  “No.” The kid’s voice was shaky.

  Blaine knew the layout of The Chateau. He’d been around when it had been built. Like most of the rooms in the building, there were windows to let in natural light and fresh air. For privacy’s sake, the ones in the restrooms were high. And above the restroom was a guest room. With a balcony that was nice and long but not terribly deep.

  He turned to Raeann. “Call the police, ask them to patch you through to Liam Kastor. Tell him to come without lights and sirens. Let the manager on duty know what’s going on.” Then he was off.

  He ran up the stairs and pounded on door number 318. A man wearing pajama bottoms and nothing else opened it. “What?”

  “We have an emergency below you.” He pushed his way into the room, not sparing a glance at the woman who was in the bed. He opened the balcony door, stepped out and looked over the railing.

  Yes. If he did it just right, he could hang down from the balcony and get his feet onto the ledge outside the bathroom windows. If he wasn’t careful, however, he was going to fall three stories.

  He’d be careful. But he also needed to be fast.

  Tight to the building, he swung his left leg over the railing edge and then his right. The tips of his shoes were resting on the narrow outside edge of the wrought-iron railing. He squatted, moving his hand all the way to the very bottom. Then, holding on tight, he stepped off the edge. His body jerked, no longer supported, and he felt the pull in his right shoulder that was now bearing all his weight.

  He stretched but could not reach the ledge below him. Looking down, he saw that he was still a couple inches short.

  He wasn’t giving up now. He let go and dropped.

  When his shoes made contact with the ledge below, he tightened his core and pitched his body forward. He hit the exterior wall hard enough that the brick scratched his face, and he dug his fingers in, praying that he wasn’t simply going to bounce off.

  When he didn’t, he stopped only long enough to take a deep breath before he moved toward the window. He edged his head around the sill, confident that he would be able to see into the lit room but they would not see him in the dark outside.

  There she was. Standing. Her back to him. Her left hand rested on the sink, and he could see the flowers on her wrist. He could see just enough of the side of her face that he knew she was talking.

  Toby Turner was facing him, his back to the locked door. His hair was disheveled, and his face was red. He was staring at Tilda as if intently listening.

  Blaine did not see a weapon. But Toby was big enough that he could still hurt Tilda badly. No way was he going to let that happen.

  The windows were the kind that slid open to the side, with a screen covering half. If he got the glass open the whole way, it would be enough space for him to go in, feetfirst.

  He grabbed the latch, praying it was unlocked. And gently pulled. Like everything else at The Chateau, it was a high-quality product that was impeccably maintained. It slid, soundlessly. The screen was still in place, but that couldn’t be helped. He was going through.

  He hit the ground hard, bent his knees to absorb the shock and then shot upwards. Tilda turned, he reached out and grabbed her arm and, in one swift motion, pulled her behind him. Now he was closest to Toby Turner, who was looking at him as if he was seeing a ghost.

  “You okay, honey?” he asked, not taking his eyes off Toby.

  “Uh...yes. How...” Her voice trailed off.

  He figured she was looking up at the window and suddenly had a pretty good idea of how he’d done it. “He didn’t touch you?” he rasped, needing to be sure.

  “No. He’s been drinking, Blaine. He’s...not himself.”

  “Here’s what we’re going to do, Toby,” Blaine said. “You’re going to unlock that door. And we’re going to walk out of here.” If the kid decided to launch himself in his and Tilda’s direction, Blaine would have no choice but to take him down.

  “Are you calling the police?” the teen asked.

  They were likely already there. Hell yes, thought Blaine. He’d locked Tilda in. Scared her.

  “No,” Tilda said, her voice surprisingly strong. “But we are calling your parents. And we’re waiting for them to pick you up. And then we’re going to have a conversation. And you’re going to tell them how you feel.”

  Blaine turned slightly. What the hell was she talking about?

  She gave him a quick smile, but she was really focusing on Toby. “And then you’re going to go home and sober up, and then start working. You’ve got weeks of assignments that need to be turned in. You’ve got three days.”

  “Really?” Toby asked, his voice hopeful.

  “Really,” Tilda said. “But this is your only grace offering. You blow this and you won’t get another chance from me.”

  “I won’t blow it. I promise.”

  “Unlock the door, Toby,” Blaine said.

  He did as instructed.

  Blaine wasn’t confident about what lurked beyond the door. “This is Blaine Colton,” Blaine yelled. “We’re coming out.”

  “Blaine, it’s Liam” was the response. “Everything okay?”

  Blaine let out a breath. He hadn’t wanted to get shot by some eager police officer. “Yeah. Tilda will exit first. Then Toby Turner and me.”

  “Step aside, Toby,” he said, no longer yelling. “Let Ms. Deeds pass.”

  And Blaine thought Toby was going to do just that. Instead he squared his shoulders, looked straight for Tilda, and said, “No.”

  Chapter 21

  Tilda’s heart sank. “Come on, Toby. It’s over,” she said. She was no longer afraid for herself but for Toby. He was no match to Blaine.

  “I just... I just want to apologize,” Toby said.

  She let out her breath. “I accept your apology,” she said evenly. “Now I’m walking out of here.”

  Toby stepped back. When Tilda exited, she saw Liam with six more officers from the Roaring Springs Police Department behind him. Other than that, the hallway was clear. She was grateful. It was unlikely that most everyone wouldn’t hear some version of the story of Toby Turner and her in the ladies’ room, but at least their exit wasn’t going to be on social media.

  “You okay?” Liam asked.

  She nodded. “He’s an intoxicated and very mixed-up kid. But he didn’t cross the line. He never touched me.”

  “We can still arrest him. On a litany of charges.”

 
“No. Absolutely not. We’re calling his parents,” she said. Toby and Blaine were out of the bathroom, standing near the door. Blaine motioned for Toby to take a seat on the floor. Then he wandered over.

  “Thanks for coming,” he said to Liam.

  “No problem. Tilda says she’s not interested in pressing charges?”

  “That’s right,” Blaine confirmed.

  “Okay,” Liam said, shrugging. “I hope the kid understands the break you’re giving him. And you...” He gave Blaine a pointed look. “I get that you’re the director of Extreme Sports for The Lodge, but you’re not a superhero. No more hanging off balconies and kicking in windows.”

  Hanging off balconies. She’d had some idea of how he’d managed to get in, but to hear it described made her feel slightly sick.

  “Just a small drop, and only a screen,” Blaine said lightly, perhaps seeing that she was close to vomiting on his shoes.

  “Where are all the other students?” Tilda asked, needing to focus her attention on something else.

  “In the ballroom. We were just discussing the merits of moving all of them as well as all the guests when Blaine sounded the all clear.”

  It could have gotten a whole lot more complex and certainly more public if Blaine hadn’t found a way in. She was beyond grateful. “I’m going to call Toby’s parents now.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Blaine said quickly.

  She almost told him it wasn’t necessary, but one look at his face told her that would be futile. He wasn’t letting her go anywhere with Toby, even if it was simply to sit in some comfy chairs in the main lobby.

  “You might want to call your mom,” Liam said to Blaine. “The manager on duty felt she needed to be in the loop.”

  “Will do,” he said. “Thanks for your help.”

  “No problem. Love it when we’re not really needed.”

  * * *

  What he needed was a stiff drink, but since the chaperones had done such a good job of keeping the fruit punch pure, he was going to have to wait.