“Yeah. Can I come in? It’s kind of crowded out here.”
I put my laptop aside and get out of bed. At least I’m still dressed. I wasn’t about to get into my pajamas with so many strangers, drunk ones, in the apartment. What if they started a fire or kicked in the board nailed into the wall?
I unlock the door and look up into the face of Dylan and my heart gives a little skip. Okay, a big one. “What are you doing here?”
“Um, can I come in?” he asks right before someone bumps him from behind, practically pushing him into my room.
“Sure.” I shrug and shut and lock the door before putting my back to it to look at Dylan.
Before I can react, he has me against the door, his lips molding against me. His hands are in my hair and he angles his head, deepening the kiss. I open for him, tangling my tongue with his. My knees nearly give out.
I thought that only happened in novels.
Just as abruptly, Dylan pulls away, leaving me leaning against the door, the door handle as my only support. I’d talk, but I’m not sure I can catch my breath.
“I needed to do that in case I never get another chance.”
His words barely penetrate my brain. I’d be more than happy to give him another chance, right this instant.
“We need to talk.”
And with that, my stomach sinks. The worst possible conversations start with those words. So, why the hell did he just give me a bone-melting kiss?
“Let’s go somewhere else.”
“Okay.” I wish I knew what this was about, but if he needs to have a serious conversation, we can’t do that with party central in the next room.
He lifts my bag and frowns. “You unpacked.”
“I do live here.”
“How can you relax with…that?” He points to the door and then frowns. “Why did you leave? I thought you were basically going to move into the brownstone.”
I gesture to the board. “It’s not so bad. It would be different if they hadn’t covered it.”
“How soon before someone kicks it in?”
“I thought about moving my night stand in front of it.” Which I fully intended to do, but then I wouldn’t have any place for my clock or lamp.
Dylan just shakes his head. “Come on, you doofus. Pack your bag.” He holds it out to me.
I take it and eye him warily. “Did you just call me a doofus?”
“Yep.” He grins. “And, you left crumbs in my bed.”
24
Once again I’m wasting time. Well not really wasting. More like recovering. I knew that kissing Mary would be nice, but, wow, never have I experienced such a flash of passion and desire the moment my lips touched another. I had to pull myself away before I forgot the reason I was there and pulled her to the bed
It left me shaken and my heart pounding, and I’m convinced more than ever that I want Mary to be mine.
It’s crazy, I know. I met her six weeks ago, but I’ve not stopped thinking about her since. I’ve done my best to convince myself that we would never work, but it’s a battle I don’t want to fight anymore. But, before we go further, I really do need to have a talk with her.
She tosses a few things in a bag while I wait.
“Maybe you should pack a suitcase instead.”
“Really?” She snorts. “And where am I going?”
“Back to the brownstone.”
“And where am I going to sleep?”
“My bed.”
She stops what she’s doing and comes out of the closet and gives me a questioning look.
My face heats. “I didn’t mean that.” Though, I hope eventually it will happen. Then again, after we talk, she may never give me the opportunity to be more.
“I’ll take the couch,” I insist.
“No. You are not sleeping on the couch and I’m not taking your bed.”
“We’ll think of something. Now pack.”
She heads back into the closet. “I’ve been thinking of trying to find another apartment, but when Kelsey looked she couldn’t find anything, and I don’t expect to have any more luck than she did.”
“Would you be able to get out of the lease?”
“They can’t fight me when there is a hole in the wall even if it’s covered.”
She comes out of the closet with a duffle bag and puts it on the bed before she opens the drawers to her dresser and takes out panties, bras and pajamas.
“What about revenge? I thought you were looking forward to that,” I tease here.
She sighs again. “Life is too short. They are always going to be bitches and no matter what I do to them, they will come back in triple against me. I just don’t want to deal with it.”
“Pick your battles?”
“That’s what my mama always said, but I also don’t want to be at war for the next four and a half months.”
Why didn’t I suggest we just share a bed? That’s the one thing I’ve been thinking about since I first met him.
But, that was then and this is now. Something has shifted and I don’t want whatever is happening with us to start off by having sex.
If we would have played around last night, like after I trimmed his beard or something, it would have been more natural and not really have meant that much other than a good time. But, something’s different. Dylan’s different and has been since this morning. No longer do I see him as a casual, have fun with, and then move on kind of guy. There’s more there. Or at least I hope there is, which is why I’d rather move slow and see what develops.
I wish I could figure out what is going on and why we need to talk. But, a subway train isn’t the best place for most conversations. At least not a serious one, which I gather is what we are going to have.
But, if that’s what it is, why did he kiss me and why is he taking me back to the brownstone where we won’t sleep together? You don’t do that for a “let’s just be friends” kind of talk.
And men say women are hard to figure out. I snort and shake my head.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I grin at him.
The train pulls into the stop and I glance at the doors.
“Hey,” Ryan says as he gets on and moves in our direction.
Following him is Christian, with his music case and a woman.
I blink and look again. “Zach?”
He takes the seat across from me and crosses his legs. I can’t tear my eyes away, and I’m pretty sure my mouth is open.
He shifts his eyes from me to Dylan and back.
I’m making him uncomfortable and that is so not my intent. “Sorry to stare, but, well, Kelsey said you made a beautiful woman and, quite honestly, I couldn’t see how it was possible.” My face heats. “Wow. I think I’m jealous.”
He laughs. “It’s all in the makeup, darling.”
“Maybe you should teach me some of your makeup tricks.” Damn, he is downright gorgeous.
“You’re beautiful on your own, Mary,” Dylan says to me.
“Awww, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I tease back even though a little thrill runs through me that he’d say such a thing.
“Why are you two out riding the subway this late?” Christian asks.
“Mary left, I went to retrieve her.”
“Why’d you leave? Thought your place was dangerous.”
“You guys are making too much out of it,” I insist. “Besides, the hole is boarded up.”
“That’s a damn shame,” Zach says, but he’s looking at Dylan.
Am I missing something?
“It can also be removed,” Dylan informs him in a tight voice. Then he looks at Christian, who just lifts an eyebrow and studies him. It’s like those two are having a private conversation but neither are saying anything. Like telepathy or something.
“Party still going on?” Ryan asks.
“Open house until school starts,” I answer.
“Really?” He makes a face. “Shouldn’t they be all over the consta
nt partying thing by senior year?”
I just shrug. I never was into the party thing. Oh, I went to my fair share, but it got old fast and I couldn’t see spending every weekend drinking and dancing. “I think half of their fun comes from making me uncomfortable or trying to get a reaction out of me.” Why else would Shelby and Tiffany suddenly be having parties when they never did before?
“Great roommates,” he says dryly.
“Which is why she’s going to be ours for a while,” Dylan says.
“I’m going to look for a place,” I quickly assure them before they think I’m going to be a permanent guest.
“It will be nice to have someone else around who can cook.” Zach grins. “That soup was amazing.”
Heat scorches my cheeks. “Thanks, but it was only soup.”
“No, Mary, it was more,” Christian says quietly.
I’d ask him what he means but the train pulls into our stop. The guys wait for me to go first and then follow. Dylan has my duffle over his shoulder.
25
I close the door behind me and put Mary’s duffle at the side of the dresser. This is it. I can’t put it off any longer.
She walks to the bed, brushes the crumbs to the floor and then sits. “So, what do we need to talk about?”
I take a deep breath and blow it out.
“You’re making me nervous. Is it the novels? I haven’t sent those back yet?” She bites the corner of her bottom lip as if trying to figure me out, or she’s worried about something. Mary is not the person who needs to be worried or nervous. That’s me.
“Mrs. Kragen,” I blurt out.
Her eyebrows form a V over her nose. “Mrs. Kragen?”
“Yeah.” I walk to the bed and sit on the other side.
She turns to me.
“I’m pretty sure your Mrs. Kragen is my Mrs. Kragen.”
Mary tilts her head. “The social worker?”
“Yeah. I’ve been looking for my family.” There, I said it, now for the rest.
“Parents? Siblings?”
“My parents are in prison.” I might as well get that right out there.
Sympathy fills those blue eyes. I’ve seen that look from a lot from people, but it doesn’t mean they want to stick around.
I blow out a breath. “Look. I like you. I mean, I really like you.”
A small, shy smile forms on her lips. That’s a good sign, I hope.
“Ever since I met you after your apartment was burglarized, then you coming to the door in just a towel, and then just being around. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve tried. I can’t.”
“You aren’t the only one. I’ve kind of have a thing for you too. I was just afraid at the most you’d only ever think of me as a sister wi…
“Don’t say it.” I laugh. A part of my tension begins to let go. “I want to spend more time with you. I hope you feel the same.”
She reaches out and grabs my hand. “I do.”
“But, you need to know what you are getting or you can’t make an informed decision.”
“Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad, I’m sure.”
“You’ve told me about your family.”
“Not really.” She frowns.
“You’ve told me enough and I need to tell you about mine.”
“Okay.” She settles back against the headboard and crosses her legs.
“I’m the oldest. I have a brother, Noah who is twenty-one. Then there is Nina, who just turned eighteen and Jade is sixteen.”
She nods.
“Our parents, well they weren’t exactly parents, just a womb and a sperm donor.”
She kind of winces. “Sorry.”
“Neither worked, at least not a legal job. They collected stuff. Hoarders to the extreme. Mom just wanted to have stuff and Dad didn’t step in and try to stop her. There wasn’t a place in our house that didn’t have stuff stacked, almost to the ceiling. Mom didn’t know how to clean. At least I assume she didn’t. The place was gross and it stunk.” I shake my head. Remembering how we lived makes me ill. “They were either gone or in the basement most of the time, but we always had money for things. Always had things. Nothing for the kids, but my parents had a lot of things.” I remember the boxes stacked to the ceiling of things that had been bought on a whim, or taken from the garbage when it caught her eye.
I need to look away from Mary because I don’t want to be moved by her sympathy. This is not about feeling sorry for me but telling her the truth.
“The basement was off limits though and they kept telling us that soon we’d have a better life. Bigger house and more things.” I shake my head. “I learned how to cook. I figured out how to do laundry without ruining stuff. I studied hard so I could help my brother and sisters with their homework.”
I take a deep breath. “Then, one day, Jade got really sick. She was four at the time. Mom had taken her to the clinic and got meds, but I couldn’t find them anywhere. I had Jade on the couch, curled up under a blanket, but she was listless with shallow breathing, coughing at times, and she was burning up. I didn’t know what to do, so I went to the basement because that’s where Mom and Dad were. They were always there, when they were home.”
“How old were you?”
“Twelve.”
Her eyes pop open. “You were too young to have that responsibility.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know anything else. After Jade was born, Mom and Dad kind of lost interest in all of us. I tried to do what I could to make sure they were okay, like bathed, fed, went to school.”
She reaches out and takes my hand.
“Don’t feel sorry for me, Mary.” And I mean that. “I’m stronger for it. Really.”
“If you say so.”
“I do,” I assure her. “But, back to Jade and the basement. The basement was the cleanest place in the house. Bright, white, and full of what I thought was science equipment. It looked like the lab at the high school.” I look up at her. “We’d gone to a game there and I got lost in the halls and ended up in the science wing. I was fascinated. I was just starting my seventh grade and couldn’t wait to get to high school to be in classes with cool stuff.”
She smiles. “I remember thinking high school was going to be so much cooler than my lame middle school.”
We probably all thought that when we were kids.
“’Dad, what are you doing’,” I remember asking. ‘Working! He barked at me. ‘Now get your ass upstairs’.”
But I couldn’t tear my eyes away from all the equipment. “’Are you a scientist?’ I can’t believe how stupid I was.”
“Not stupid,” Mary assures me.
Maybe she’s right. “We did live in a middle class neighborhood with neatly trimmed lawns, gardens, a car in every drive, kids playing outside. I’d been to my friends’ houses. They were clean and organized and their dads had important jobs too and, for a little bit, I thought my dad did important things like the other dads.” I shake my head at how naive I’d been. “I never had anyone over because I was too embarrassed by all the shit stacked everywhere. Nobody else’s house was like that. I knew my parents were different. I mean, they didn’t talk to any of our neighbors. Not like everyone else.” I take a deep breath. “Anyway, Mom tells me that Dad is a scientist and he’s doing something important and we shouldn’t interrupt him. I told them that Jade was really sick. They told me they couldn’t come up right now but would shortly. So, I went upstairs and sat with Jade, while Noah read.” I glance up. “He had a reading assignment and Jade liked it when someone read to her, so it was two birds, one stone.”
“What about Nina?” she asks.
I have to smile. “Dancing and listening to music.”
“While Noah was trying to read.”
“Mom gave the girls an old Walkman from when she was like 13 or something, along with cassette tapes that she had made of her favorite artists at the time. The girls took turns sharing it.”
“Really, who?”
It doesn’t really matter, but it is a happy memory. Maybe Mary realizes that and is letting me stay there. “Pat Benatar, Cyndi Lauper, Go-Go’s, and Madonna.”
“All girls.”
I chuckle. “Yep. But I really only let them listen to Cyndi Lauper.”
“Why not the others?” She frowns.
“I didn’t like seeing my little sisters sing Like a Virgin, even though I was just getting the whole concept of what virgin meant.” I shake my head. “Anyway. Jade was just getting worse and Mom and Dad weren’t coming up, so I went down the road to a neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Tolliver. She was a nurse and he was a cop. By this time, I was panicked.” I’m shaking my head. “I didn’t get it at the time. I didn’t get it until much later.”
“What didn’t you get?” she asks when I don’t say anything for a bit.
“I told them about Jade, how worried I was, and that Mom and Dad were in the basement, and then Mr. Tolliver started asking a lot of pointed questions about the basement, and all that. Then, Mrs. Tolliver gave me some meds to take back to Jade. Told me to fix the kids supper and she’d be down in a little bit.” I look up at Mary. “She was in the middle of cooking their supper and Mr. Tolliver got on the phone as I left.”
I have to stop for a moment and get my emotions under control. My stupidity and my big mouth is the reason the rest happened. Damn, I wish I had a drink.
“So, I’m in the kitchen cooking, Jade is on the couch, taking her turn listening to the music while Noah reads to me and Nina is coloring, when the cops come in the front door. The next thing I know is that we are being hauled from the house. They said we could take something and I grabbed that photo.” I look over at the one picture I have of my siblings. “We were taken to the police station, except Jade was taken to the hospital. Then we were broken up, sent to different foster homes and I never saw my siblings again.”
“Never?” she asks in disbelief.
“Nope. They didn’t have a family that would take all of us.”
The tears are there, just like they were as my family was being ripped away from me. I try to blink them away. Damn! I haven’t cried in years. Anger and then determination replaced the tears of a kid, so why the hell did I just want to curl up and cry out the pain now? This is more humiliating than telling Mary about my shit parents.
Rattle His Cage: The Baxter Boys #4 (The Baxter Boys ~ Rattled) Page 13