Starting with the Unexpected

by Andi Van

  “Let me go get a nurse,” the other officer said.

  “Oh, and psycho mom here wants you to arrest Marcus,” I told the remaining officer.

  I could see the brief look of “what the fuck” on his face, but the policeman had his professional face back on before he turned to face Marcus’s mother. “What seems to be the problem?”

  “Him,” the woman screamed, pointing at Marcus. I half expected her to start foaming at the mouth. “This is entirely his fault. He’s ruined his sister’s life.”

  “And now you know where Delilah got her delusions from,” I said. I smiled when Tate rushed into the room. “Hey man, can you help me up?”

  “Damn, can’t you try to stay in one piece?” Tate asked, helping me to stand. “Does it feel like you made it any worse?”

  “Nah, just knocked the wind out of me.” I leaned on Tate to get back to the chair and sink into it. “Thanks, man.”

  “Ma’am,” the officer said, “why don’t we go down to the station? We can discuss what might need to be done as far as Marcus is concerned.”

  “Good. At least someone here is listening to me,” she said haughtily. She turned and was escorted out by the officer, followed by Marcus’s older sister.

  The remaining officer looked at us and twirled his finger by his ear in the universal that-person-is-obviously-insane gesture. It may not have been professional, but it was true. “You really want to file charges?” he asked.

  “I kind of do, actually, but I don’t think it’s worth it,” I told him. “Too much hassle, and it’s not like she’d learn a lesson.”

  “You change your mind, you give us a call,” he offered.

  “Sure,” I said. “Thanks.”

  I waited until he and Tate had both cleared the room and I turned to look at my boyfriend. “Dude, your family’s insane.”

  “No shit,” Marcus scoffed. “Seriously, are you all right?”

  “Yeah, it’s nothing,” I said. “Just more pissed off than anything.”

  “How on earth did you end up becoming such a wonderful young man after being raised by such a fucking cunt?” my mother finally burst out.

  Marcus’s eyes went wide at Mom’s language, but I just laughed. “Don’t look so surprised, gorgeous. Who do you think I learned it from?”

  “Seriously,” my mother said, looking exasperated. “That woman needs a love tap from a two-by-four.”

  “No violence, Mom,” I said.

  “Well, it doesn’t really matter anyway,” she finally grunted. “She can’t have you, Marcus. You’re ours.”

  “Stop, Mom,” I protested. I grinned to let her know I was teasing. “You’re going to get all emotional and start to cry, and then you’re going to make us cry. Then I’ll be forced to find something macho to do to reinforce my manhood.”

  My mother snorted. “Good. Then you can come mow my yard tomorrow,” she said.

  Yeah, like that was going to happen. “Sorry, I’m taking Marcus home tomorrow. Doctor decided to keep him overnight, since they weren’t happy with his breathing.”

  She smiled at me and shook her head. “As if you’d come mow my lawn anyway.” She looked at the clock, stood, and gave Marcus a kiss on the cheek. “I’d better get home so I can make dinner for your father. Are you staying here tonight?”

  Before I could answer, Marcus turned his head and frowned at me. “You ought to go home and get some real sleep. That chair can’t be comfortable.”

  “Hush,” I told him and smiled at my mom. “Yeah. I’m staying here. Bran’s got his clinical walk-through thing, or whatever it’s called, again tonight, and he said he’d check in before and after.”

  “I’m glad you two are trying to work things out.” She smiled.

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “Me too.”

  When we were finally alone, Marcus grabbed my hand and squeezed. “So, Brandon finally got up the nerve?”

  “What? To talk to me?” I asked. “Yeah. I’m still kind of confused and a little hurt, but he was always there for me before the whole thing with his best friend. I missed him. I was surprised to hear he’d been talking to you, though.”

  Marcus shrugged. “He just needed someone to talk to, that’s all. Besides, I knew you hated how fucked up things were between you guys, and I wanted to help fix that. You know I’d do anything to make you happy.” He paused and bit his lip as he looked away from me. “About what I said before I left….”

  “Don’t,” I told him. “We were angry. We said things we didn’t mean. I get it. And for what it’s worth, I’m so sorry for my part in it. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “I was kind of jealous,” Marcus admitted. “That you and your brother were ever close, I mean. You saw what my family’s like. I’ve never had what you have.”

  “You do now,” I pointed out. “Mom was pretty vocal about that.”

  Marcus gave me a wide-eyed look and nodded. “Jesus. I’d never have expected your mom to talk like that.”

  “What, swear? Don’t let her fool you. She may tell people that I picked up my foul mouth from my dad, since he was in the Navy and people are inclined to believe that whole ‘swearing like a sailor’ thing, but I really learned it from her.” I smoothed his blankets and sighed. “I wish the bed were wider. I want to sit with you.”

  “Tomorrow,” Marcus promised. He grinned at me and tilted his head, and I was pleased to see him looking like the mischievous little smartass I’d fallen in love with. “Not sure how well I’ll handle the stairs up to my apartment, though. Mind if I stay with you until I’m up to it?”

  “I was actually kind of wondering how you’d feel about moving into the main house—into my room,” I admitted. “I know we said we weren’t going to rush into living together, but I like it better when we wake up in the same bed, you know?”

  Marcus glowered at me, and I swallowed hard. “Um, sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have—”

  “After I just bought all that furniture?” Marcus asked, and I could tell he had to make an effort to keep from smiling.

  “Jordan would probably pay you for it,” I said with a shrug. “Except for what you wanted to keep. Then he could rent it out furnished. We could talk to him about it, at least.”

  “Let’s see how we do for the next week or two that I stay with you first,” he suggested. “We can talk about it after we’ve decided we’re not going to kill each other. Does that work for you?”

  I nodded, smiling. That was a compromise I could definitely deal with. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was pushed.”

  “I’m sorry I called you a giant fucking moron,” Marcus told me, grinning.

  “Seriously,” I said, doing my best to sound insulted. “You could have at least called me something a little more creative. ‘Fucktard twatwaffle,’ for example.”

  “Sometimes it’s best to keep things simple.”

  And that pretty much said it all. Sometimes the simplest things were the best things. A smile from a friend, a hug from your family, a kiss from your lover. They weren’t complicated, but they let you know everything was going to work out and everything was going to be okay.

  I leaned in and gave Marcus a gentle kiss. “I love you, Marcus.”

  “Love you too, Ollie. I have a question, though.”

  “Yeah?” I asked and scooted as close to his bed as I could get. “What’s up?”

  He gave me an embarrassed smile. “Why don’t you call me by a nickname?”

  My brow wrinkled with confusion. “Well, because neither Marc nor Mari suit you as names. I could call you Mars, but that sounds kind of pretentious to me. Marcus just kind of suits you. Why? Do you want me to find a nickname for you? I could start calling you Shnoogums.”

  “No,” Marcus laughed. “That’s quite all right. I was just curious.”

  “Shnoogie-oogie Cuddlebumps?” I suggested.

  “No.” Marcus said, laughing harder. “Ow, stop. Laughing hurts.”

  “Sorry,” I said, and kissed him again.
“I’ll wait until you’ve healed to suggest any more nicknames.”

  “I appreciate that, even if you’re not really sorry.” He smacked me on the arm, and I made the appropriate melodramatic yelp of pain.

  “No, really. I’m sorry.” I rubbed my arm. It really hadn’t hurt, but he appreciated me pretending it had. “Honestly. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

  “Anything?” Marcus asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Anything that you’re physically capable of handling at the moment,” I clarified.

  “In that case,” he said, pulling on my arm to make me lean closer. “Do you know what I’d really, really love for you to do right about now? What I’m craving so badly that I don’t know what to do with myself?”

  I swallowed hard. Damn, but he was sexy. I just hoped he wouldn’t ask for too much, because I was going to have a hard time saying no. “What?” I croaked.

  “What I’d really, really love for you to do for me,” Marcus drawled, brushing a hand down my face, “is to go get me a fucking cheeseburger. Hospital food sucks ass, and not in a way I enjoy.” He let me go and smirked when I stared at him.

  My boyfriend was an evil bastard. “You’re an evil bastard,” I said out loud.

  “And you love me for it,” he said, the smirk still firmly in place.

  “I don’t know if it’s okay for you to have a cheeseburger or not,” I said. “I mean, you kind of just had surgery.”

  “Sweetheart? I want food. Real food, not green gelatin. And would you do one other favor for me?”

  “Maybe?” I said, a little worried about what he was going to demand. I could tell the next few weeks were going to be interesting, while he stayed in bed, and I waited on him.

  “Go home,” he told me. I started to protest, and he shook his head to cut off my words. “Honey, you stink. Go home, take a shower, and change your clothes. Go to the diner, have them do a takeout order for you, and bring it back here. Have you eaten?”

  On cue, my stomach growled. “Umm, no.”

  Marcus sighed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Seriously, I’ll be okay. Go home, do what needs to be done, and come back. Got it? I’ll still be here when you get back, and we can eat.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Anything else?”

  “Yeah, bring me some sweats or something,” Marcus said. “The hospital gown sucks. And maybe some books. Or your tablet, since I can watch movies on that too.”

  “Yes dear,” I said, grabbed my crutches, and stood up. “If you need anything else, call me.”

  “Bring Jordan back with you,” he said. “I want more of my family here.”

  I smiled and felt a warm glow at his talk of family. “Of course,” I said, leaning over to kiss his forehead. “Maybe try to get a little more sleep before I get back.”

  “Sure,” he answered. “Hey Ollie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too, sweetheart.” I gave him another kiss and headed for the door. For the first time since our fight the night before, I honestly felt everything was going to be okay, and it was a fantastic feeling.

  CHAPTER 19

  “YOU SHOULD be in bed.” I frowned at Marcus, who’d made me help him shuffle down the hallway to the kitchen table. He’d wanted to be with me while I fixed him something to eat, but I wasn’t happy about it. It had only been a few days since he left the hospital, and he was still falling asleep wherever he sat. We’d been warned it was normal for him to tire easily after the kind of injuries he’d sustained, but that didn’t keep me from worrying.

  “I should be here with you,” he corrected, mirroring my frown. “I’m tired of being in bed, Ollie. I want to be out here with you for a while.”

  “Stubborn,” I growled. “If you start to get sleepy, I’m making you head straight back to bed.”

  Marcus smiled at me and nodded. “Of course.”

  I stared at him for a bit longer, then sighed and turned to the fridge. “What do you want to eat?”

  “Food would be good,” Marcus said. He laughed when I glared at him. “Oh, I don’t know. Let’s be original and actually have breakfast.”

  “At nine in the morning?” I asked with a feigned gasp. “We should be having lunch.” I grinned as he laughed harder.

  Then he shrugged. “Sure, why not. Omelets sound good?”

  “Me too.” Jordan yelled from the living room.

  I rolled my eyes. “If I’m cooking for you too, you could get in here and help.”

  The doorbell rang, and Jordan yelled “Or I could answer the door.”

  No one ever stopped by our place that early, but I assumed it was either my mom or my brother, who had apparently adopted my boyfriend as his new best friend. I was good with that, considering how much I felt he deserved a friend like Marcus after the shit his previous best friend had pulled. Either way it meant I was cooking for four, not for three. On the plus side, if it was my mom she’d likely take over the cooking.

  I’d just started chopping the ham I found in the fridge when Jordan stood in the doorway and cleared his throat. “Uh, Marcus, someone’s here to see you.”

  “Okay,” Marcus said slowly. “Then send them in. I’m not moving.”

  Jordan grimaced. “Um, well, it’s Davis.”

  If it were possible for me to spontaneously combust with rage, that would have been the moment. My knuckles went white as I gripped the knife in my hand much harder than I needed to, and I turned my head to look at Jordan. “What the fuck is he doing here?” I growled.

  Marcus rolled his eyes, and turned his attention to Jordan. “Send him in.”

  “What?” I shouted. “You have a fucking restraining order against the fuckhead.”

  “What is it with you and the word fuck when you get mad?” he asked. “You and Jordan will both be right here. It’s obviously something important, or he wouldn’t risk coming by. He pisses me off, you call the cops.”

  “He pisses you off, we’ll need to find a place to hide the body,” I snarled.

  “Sweetheart, I love you, but you’re so not intimidating.” Marcus looked at Jordan again, and gave him a small smile. “Send him in.”

  Davis looked terrified when he stepped into the kitchen, which was exactly how I felt he should look. He glanced at me, saw the look on my face and the knife in my hand, and all color drained from his face.

  “Davis,” Marcus said in greeting. “You’ve got sixty seconds before I call the cops and tell them you’re going against the restraining order. But first, thank you for calling in and reporting Delilah.”

  “I just….” Davis glanced at me again and swallowed hard. Apparently I could intimidate him. “I wanted to say I was sorry. For, you know, everything. And your sister, man. I didn’t know she was doing that shit. If I’d known what she was up to I would have told someone, but I dumped her when she tried to tell me she was pregnant.”

  “She’s not, then?” I asked. We hoped that might be the case, but no one had confirmed it. All I knew was that she was sitting in jail, awaiting trial. In light of her actions, she’d been refused bail. Marcus’s mother was probably still screaming about how it was his fault, but considering he’d blocked their numbers and they didn’t know where he lived, we weren’t likely to have to hear it in person.

  “No way. I refused to fuck her without a condom, and I made her take a pregnancy test in front of me. She’s not pregnant.”

  “Well thank God for small favors. We don’t need to increase the population at the shallow end of the gene pool.”

  Davis gave me a confused look like he had no idea what I was talking about, and I rolled my eyes. Yeah, the guy wasn’t the brightest bulb.

  “Well, I appreciate the apology,” Marcus said. “I don’t think we’ll ever be friends, because quite frankly, you have too many issues for me to want to be anywhere near you. And I’m not going to have the restraining order rescinded. Besides, just having you near my boyfriend makes me want to scratch you
r face off for the black eye you gave him. So thanks, but I think you need to leave now.”

  Davis glanced at me again—well, all right, he glanced directly at the knife I was still holding—then looked at Marcus and nodded. “I’m sorry,” he repeated and stood up. Jordan followed him out, and I dropped the knife onto the countertop.

  “Come here,” Marcus waved a hand at me. “I’d come to you, but you’d growl at me if I tried to stand without assistance, you overprotective bastard.”

  “My parents were married when I was born, thank you very much,” I scoffed as I joined him at the table. “I’m going to tell my mother that you suggested otherwise.”

  Marcus laughed and tugged me into the chair next to him so he could lean against me. “She’d forgive me, because I’m her new favorite,” he teased.

  “Who’s a new favorite?” Jordan came back in, pulled out a chair and swung it around to straddle it backward.

  “I’m Linda’s new favorite,” Marcus told him. “Sorry, but you’re only second best now.”

  “What?” Jordan screeched. “That’s just not right. I’m supposed to be the favorite son.”

  I laughed, gave Marcus a one-armed hug, and left them to argue while I made food. As the first of the omelets cooked, I turned to lean against the counter and watch them. Along with my parents and Bran, these two were my family, and I couldn’t do without either of them. Thank God they liked each other. But then, if an abusive ex and a psychotic sister didn’t split us up, maybe we would have been fine even if they didn’t get along.

  The thought made me laugh, which made Jordan and Marcus stop midargument to look at me. “What’s so funny?” Marcus asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Everything.”

  “Wow, that’s kind of vague,” Jordan snorted.

  “Random string of thoughts,” I told them. “I was thinking I was glad that you two like each other, because otherwise Marcus and I would have been doomed. And then I started to think about all the shit that’s happened since we got together.”

  Marcus smiled. The look of love in his eyes warmed me to my toes. “Well, we may have started this whole thing with a long string of unexpected events, but maybe that was the best way for us to start off, you know?”