The Banshee and the Linebacker (A Paranormal Romance)

by Mason, P. R.

  Keagan's father jerked the door open. "What the hell is that—Oh, Tara, it's you."

  "Sorry, Mr. Ellsworth. I didn't mean knock so loud." Trying to force out a smile, my expression was probably more like a grimace because my lips felt set in a fast drying cement.

  His face relaxed into a smile in return as he widened the door. "Come on in. But Liam isn't home right now."

  With my purse hugged to my body, I stepped forward. "Thanks, ummm. That's okay." A bullfrog in my throat needed clearing before I could get out the next part. "I'm here for Keagan."

  A huge gasp of air escaped with the last word. There. I'd done as he'd demanded. I'd told his parents...or at least one of them.

  As the thought occurred to me, his mother stepped around the corner and into the entry. "Hi, Tara. Liam isn't home. Are you supposed to meet him here?"

  "No I...ummm."

  Just then my date came out of his room and strode down the hall to stand at the top of the stairs. The white t-shirt that evidenced the hard muscles of his chest hung over low-slung jeans. His bicep flexed as he slipped on a navy blue dress shirt and began to button it.

  I found it hard to swallow again, but not from fear this time. But even acknowledging to myself how physically drawn I was to him, pangs cut at me with a thousand tiny razorblades. How could I feel this way, betraying Liam in thought as well as act? My boyfriend at least deserved emotional fidelity.

  For a moment I registered a hopeful expression on Keagan's face before our eyes met. Maybe not hopeful as much as anticipating something. But as if he knew my guilty thoughts about his brother, his expression transformed in an instant to its usual bored cynicism.

  "Liam should be home any time now," Mrs. Ellsworth continued.

  "I'm meeting Keagan, not Liam," I announced.

  "I don't under—Oh, are you giving Keagan a ride?" Mrs. Ellsworth asked.

  "I'll just call Liam and tell him you're here," Mr. Ellsworth chimed in, moving to the hall phone.

  "Don't call Liam," I said in a harsher tone than I'd intended. "I'm not giving Keagan a ride...well ... I am but..."

  Keagan grabbed his off-white hoodie from where it had been draped over the banister and proceeded down the stairs with a grin rivaling the Grinch's. He was clearly enjoying the uncomfortable scene.

  "That is, we're going in my car but it's a date," I continued. "I'm going on a date with your son... with Keagan."

  Just as I said his name, he reached the bottom of the staircase.

  His parents' shocked silence continued for the time it took him to walk down the hall to my side.

  His father's shock was the first to change to anger. "What is this?" Mr. Ellsworth finally demanded, his gaze darting back-and-forth between his son and me. "What has Keagan done? What is he threatening you with?"

  "Nothing," I answered, my entire body shaking as I put my arm through Keagan's. My action seemed to startle him almost as much as it did his parents.

  "He must have done something," Mr. Ellsworth said.

  Keagan shook his head. "Is it so impossible to think she might want to date me?"

  "Yes," his father yelled. "When she can have your brother, why would she want you? Tara's always been a good girl. I know you must have done something to force her. You worthless piece of shi—"

  "Stop it! You're wrong," I interrupted with a sharp shout.

  As Mr. Ellsworth's jaw dropped Mrs. Ellsworth gasped.

  I lowered my voice for the next bit. "Mr. Ellsworth, I don't want to be disrespectful to you or Mrs. Ellsworth but I'm just not going to listen to you run down Keagan any more. It's not fair. He hasn't threatened me or done anything...ungentlemanly." Weird word but I couldn't find anything any better. "In fact, I had to beg him to go out with me. Keagan is a good person. You've been forcing him to be bad in order to live up to your expectations."

  "Now listen here, young lady—" Mr. Ellsworth started.

  "No, sir. This is your home, and you're adults. I can't stop you from verbally abusing your son when I'm not here, but I don't have to listen to it. I've been a witness to it for too long without saying something."

  "Verbal..." Mr. Ellsworth sputtered. "What abuse? Witness what?"

  "Tara," Mrs. Ellsworth exclaimed. "I'm going to call your grandmother, young lady."

  "Go right ahead. She knows what I'm doing." I tugged at Keagan's arm. "C'mon. Let's go."

  Outside, Keagan abruptly stopped when we reached the end of the block.

  I'd been so mad we strode right past my car. I was just about to say something when he looked up at the sky. A sound between a scream and a cry erupted. He turned to look at me and another sound more like a laugh boomed out of him.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Goody's not so goody."

  "Yeah. Maybe now you can give that horrid nickname a rest."

  "Not only the nickname but no more lewd comments," he said but then ruined it with, "for tonight at least."

  "Nice."

  He hooted to the sky again. "My parents—"

  "I know. They'll probably take it out on you later. I'm sor—"

  He grabbed my shoulders and then stopped my word with a quick kiss.

  "Don't say you're sorry. I don't care what happens later. I loved it. I love y—I loved what you said." Another booming laugh finally trickled to chuckles. "Did you see their faces? I bet dad'll have to check his pants. He probably shit so many bricks he can build that retaining wall in the backyard he's always wanted."

  I bit my bottom lip to stop a laugh, not to mention the tingles that rippled along its surface from the touch of his mouth on mine.

  "Let's go." Clutching my hand, he tugged me into a run the rest of the way to the car.

  "Where to?" I asked.

  "Anywhere."

  Chapter Four

  The local organic burger joint with a vintage car motif seemed like a good idea—meat for Keagan and vegetarian fare for me. But then I spotted Liam's football teammates Billy and Quinn, known at school as BQ, seated at the counter. The two were both engrossed in jamming food into their faces as fast as possible.

  With them busy with their private burger-eating contest, we just might avoid them seeing us, I thought. Even so, I couldn't help squirming. If BQ saw us, they'd spread the news all over school. Liam didn't deserve that humiliation.

  "Two tonight?" The hostess asked.

  Glancing at Keagan, anticipating his affirmative answer, I found him staring at me instead. "Would you rather leave?"

  His question surprised me. He'd insisted I declare our date to his parents and I'd have thought he'd glory in Liam's embarrassment at the hands of BQ no matter my discomfort with it.

  "No, it doesn't matter they're here." I tried to sound convincing but my voice wobbled.

  "Why don't we get something to-go," Keagan said, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. "You can wait in the car while I order. Veggie for you, right?"

  Nodding with a grateful smile, I squeezed back.

  Before I could move out the door, Billy's obnoxious voice stopped me as he shouted from ten feet away. "Tara-girl. Where's my wingman, Liam?"

  "We're both going," Keagan whispered to me and, with his guiding hand at the small of my back, we turned to push out the door.

  "Hey," Quinn said. "She's here with his brother."

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Billy jump off his stool as we exited. Billy followed us outside with Quinn at his heels. Billy grabbed my shoulder to pull me around just as Keagan and I reached the front of my car.

  "You're here with him?" Billy demanded.

  "Yes." I nodded and cleared my throat. "I'm with him on a date."

  "Hands off her Billy or I'll make your head into a hood ornament," Keagan warned, shoving Billy.

  "You and what army, dog breath?" Quinn joined in with a child-like taunt so ridiculous I wanted to come back with yes you are but what am I?

  Billy stepped back. Lifting both hands, he released me as if I had cooties. Then he shook his head and
gave a snort. "You aren't worth it. You're a traitor to Double Dick as well as a slut."

  Keagan made a motion, his arm twitching, and I had to grab him to stop him from swinging on Billy. "No," I said. "Please. No fighting."

  He subsided into a huffing glower first at Billy then Quinn then back again. Keagan's angry breath chugged in and out.

  With a disgusted, wave of his hand and a pfffffffft, Billy turned on one heel and sauntered back to the door of the restaurant. Quinn got out his phone, and held it up as if taking a photo, before trotting after Billy.

  My hand shook as I reached in my purse for the car keys. Finally, getting them out of where they had seemed caught, I held them up triumphantly. Keagan took them from me and unlocked the passenger door. He opened it wide and motioned for me to get in.

  "I'm driving," he said. "You're too shaken up."

  "I'm all right," I insisted, but slipped gratefully into the passenger seat anyway.

  "Yeah sure," he muttered. "You're about as right as a feather in a hurricane."

  He closed the door and then rounded the front bumper to the other side. Billy stuck his head out of the restaurant door and shouted something I, thankfully, couldn't make out.

  I heard the ping of my cell phone as Keagan opened the driver's side door. Pulling the cell out to examine its face, I then saw a message from Liam: Whas'up? A photo of Keagan and me outside the restaurant accompanied the text. Omigod, Quinn had wasted no time.

  Oh well, Liam would know soon enough anyway. With shaking fingers I texted back: Imona d8 w/ K. And then I stared at the phone waiting for a reply. The silence hurt my ears, so I powered the cell off and threw it in my purse.

  After getting in the car himself, Keagan shoved the key into the ignition and fired the engine. He glanced at me and swore. "You look terrible."

  I couldn't say anything, not even a sarcastic "thanks."

  "Put on your seatbelt."

  I still couldn't say anything. Neither could I move. At that moment, with my mind on how Liam must be reacting, I don't think I even understood what he said.

  "Jesus," he muttered as he reached around me to grab the buckle and bring it down across my shoulder and lap. It locked into place with a snap.

  The next thing I knew the car peeled out into a left turn before joining the traffic on the adjacent street.

  Off to my next trauma, I thought. At the reserve.

  But then Keagan made another turn in the opposite direction and suddenly I didn't know where we were going. Was that better or worse?

  * * * * *

  By the time we reached Tybee Island, I'd recovered. We stopped to pick up a take-out cheese pizza before heading to the beach. Keagan parked the Camry on an access road. We climbed out of the car and Keagan pulled two blankets off the backseat.

  "Those are dog blankets for Harry," I said, referring to our Cockapoo. "We'll be covered with dog hair if we use those."

  Keagan smiled as he bundled them into his arms before closing the door to lock it. "That's okay. Better hair than sand. Besides, I love animals."

  Even at this time of year, the night was a moderate sixty degrees but a cool breeze smelling of salt and sea came in off the Atlantic. As we crossed the boardwalk over the dunes, I was glad Keagan had thought of the blankets, hair or no hair. An almost full moon shone like a spotlight over our heads and the few lamps lining the path were just a small supplement.

  After the boardwalk, we took off our shoes and made our way over the rough area of stone, shell and sand mixture to the packed granules. From here I could see the ocean was calm. The water merely lapped at the shore, ebbing and flowing gently, instead of the usual pounding wave assaults. The peace of the night, with no one else in sight, calmed my jangled nerves ever so slightly.

  Keagan spread out one of the blankets for us to sit on and weighed down its four corners with his shoes and mine. I settled into a seated position with my legs curled to the side. He kneeled down and reached inside the pizza box to extract a slice. He handed it to me along with one of the soda cans.

  The greasy cheese smell made me feel sick. The idea of putting anything in my rolling, lurching stomach didn't seem smart. Puking all over Keagan would hardly be the romantic date of anyone's dream—if romance were even what we were going for here. I laid the slice down on the box lid but pulled at the tab of the soda can. The familiar fizzy burst sound of it opening made my parched mouth water so I took a heavy swig.

  My date was halfway through a slice. Eyeing me, he finished chewing and then swallowed.

  "Are you cold?" Without waiting for an answer, he tossed the remainder of his slice down on top of the box and retrieved the second blanket from where he'd dumped it.

  "No." I said.

  He wrapped the blanket around my shoulders anyway.

  "Okay, thanks." I pulled it tight around me.

  He sat back. "You're not eating your pizza."

  "Maybe later."

  He picked up the slice and pushed it toward my mouth. "Come on. Take it."

  "No," I replied in a belligerent tone.

  Keagan pushed it closer with a smile and a gleam in his eye. "Doesn't the wittle baby wanna eat? Open up the itty bitty tunnel and let the choo choo train come in."

  "Stop that, silly." I pushed it away. "You'll make me laugh then I'll choke on it."

  "You have to eat. We don't want you getting anorexic." His serious tone made me laugh.

  "No chance of that," I scoffed.

  "You're too thin."

  "Thanks so much," I said. "You're just full of compliments tonight. First I look 'terrible' now I'm 'too thin'."

  "You know you're gorgeous," he said softly. "The most beautiful girl in school."

  "Now you're buttering me up." I slapped the pizza slice out of his hand so hard it landed in the sand. "Don't lay on the flowery stuff so thick. It just makes me mad."

  His brows converged into a vee and he sat back on his heels. "I'm not buttering you up. Jeese. I'm trying to give you a compliment."

  "An insincere one," I accused. "I already told you I'd sleep with you. You don't have to lie to me to get in my panties."

  Except that we were on the beach we would've heard crickets in the silence that followed my crass statement.

  "Sorry," I said after a few long seconds. "I didn't mean to be so bitchy. It's been a difficult night."

  "Yeah," he acknowledged with a nod. "But I wasn't being insincere. I do think you're gorgeous."

  "Right." Sarcasm dripped from my response like the sweat drops off the soda can.

  "You shoulda won the Miss Savannah contest last year," he said.

  "Now you're just being mean," I shouted.

  "No I'm not."

  "I'll have you know I didn't want to enter that stupid contest. My grandmother wanted me to because of the scholarship the winner got."