Nine Kinds of Naughty

by Jeanette Grey

  This was her home, but it wasn’t a home. The dining table of their youth was in another room, stacked high with yarn or materials for whatever hobby she was into today. There was no heart to this place. No room for a family.

  Only room for a ghost.

  She’d carved out room for Jake’s ghost in Dane’s life, too, scooping out the parts of Dane that were just like his brother and leaving only loss and anger to fill in the hole, and he was done with it. It was time to live his life. To honor Jake’s memory instead of barely existing, hemmed in by their fear of his fate.

  He set his fork down with a clatter and pushed his food away untouched.

  “Mom.” His voice cracked, and for a second, he felt all of sixteen again.

  “Yes?”

  “I need to talk to you about something. Something . . . big.”

  “All right . . .” The first hints of wariness crept across her eyes.

  “I—I don’t think you’re going to like what I have to say, but I need you to hear me out. Can you do that for me? Please.”

  She set her fork down, too. The lines between her brows deepened. “I can try. What’s going on?”

  “I quit my job.”

  All the air squeezed out of his lungs. It was even more terrifying than it had been last night.

  It was better. He knew what he was doing now. He knew what it meant.

  But his mother didn’t. Not yet. “You . . .”

  “It wasn’t the right place for me, you understand that.” This was the key point. “No office job is.”

  A little of her confusion faded, some of the worry going with it as she made a show of rolling her eyes. “Please. No job is perfect. My last job at the county—”

  “No. That’s not what this is about.”

  “Then what?”

  “I’m done. I’ve decided.”

  She tried to laugh again, but it came out forced. “You’re a little young to be retiring. Unless Bellamy’s been paying you a lot better than I realized.”

  “No, it’s not that.”

  “Well, then you have to do something. Young man like you needs to be able to support himself. And maybe a family . . .”

  Oh, hell no. Before she could derail him, he squared his jaw.

  He’d spent his time in airports and on the plane figuring out his next steps. He still had some connections with his brother’s old unit in Billings. Every time he saw them, they gave him shit about when he was going to ditch the whole prissy office gig and join up, and every time, he shook his head, a wistful fire burning hotly in his belly. They’d help him. Every step of the way.

  And there were a lot of steps ahead. But he was ready.

  “I’m going to finish my EMT training.” He’d snuck a couple of classes in right after high school. Before his mom had gotten wind of what he was doing. “Start volunteering down at the E251.”

  Realization started to dawn across his mother’s face, but he refused to stop. Refused to let himself be steamrolled this time.

  “I looked it up, and I can take my first exam this summer.”

  His mom threw her chair back so hard it clattered to the floor. Standing, her whole body shook, and a hidden piece inside him trembled as well.

  This was the woman who had convinced him to give away his life. This was the fear that had controlled him for so long.

  “No. Absolutely not. We talked about this.”

  And for all that he felt sixteen and uncertain, he wasn’t. He was a grown man who wanted to follow in the footsteps of his father and his brother.

  Control rippled beneath his fingertips.

  He didn’t get up. Just flexed his hands and stared at her, voice even. “You talked about it. I listened. But I’m talking now.”

  “I forbid it. Under no circumstances—”

  “I’m not here to ask permission.” There was nothing she could threaten him with that would change his mind. “I’d like your blessing, but I understand if that’s not something you’re ready to give.”

  “My blessing? You want my blessing to run off and get yourself killed like some—some—”

  He gulped, throat aching. “Like Jake did. I sure hope not. I’m going to do everything in my power to stay safe.”

  “If you want to stay safe, stay in that tower. Do your job. Go to work and make copies or whatever it is you do—”

  “I’m not going to do that anymore. My mind’s made up.”

  With that, he pushed his chair back, unfurling to his full height. It felt like an unfair advantage, towering over his mother like this, but he wasn’t leaving her any room to second-guess him.

  She sputtered, eyes wide and disbelieving. And his mother had never looked weak to him before. If anything, she’d been a force of nature, especially in the wake of Jake’s death. But in that moment, she was all ineffectual rage, while the anger that had fueled him the night before had slipped away, leaving only cool calm. Leaving strength. And a decision.

  “I’ll give you some time to think about this. When you want to talk some more, you know where I’ll be.” With a hand on her shoulder, he reeled her in and pressed a firm, fervent kiss to her brow. “I love you, Mom.”

  She was silent as he made his way to the door. It was only when he put his hand to the knob, really ready to walk away, that she spoke up.

  “If you do this thing. If you walk out that door and follow your fool brother to your death, don’t you ever walk back through it again.”

  He closed his eyes. He didn’t turn around. “You don’t mean that.”

  “I’d rather lose you now than have to identify a body in another year.” Her voice tore with a sob. “Do you have any idea what he looked like? Charred and broken. I see it in my dreams every night.”

  His eyes slid open. “So do I.”

  He saw his brother’s face, and it was a nightmare.

  But the worst part was the vision of him whole and young and strong, unmarked by the fire that had consumed him. Staring at Dane with contempt.

  “Good-bye, Mom. I hope you change your mind. But I won’t.”

  He opened the door. And stepped on through to the other side.

  chapter THIRTY-ONE

  The knot between Lexie’s shoulders ached.

  Pressing the button for the penthouse, she watched the doors slide closed then sagged against the wall of the elevator. Three whole days back in New York—three days back at work, and she couldn’t even decide what hurt worst. Her scalp from all these pins keeping her hair up and off her neck. Her feet from these fucking shoes. The tight, bright spot of tension between the base of her neck and the seat of her spine.

  Or her heart.

  Listening to the dinging of the floors going by, she let her eyes slip closed. It was the one thing about letting go and taking time away from the job that Dane had never mentioned. Getting back to the grind was a fucking bitch.

  Her ribs gave a twinging squeeze. There were other factors, too, of course. The sleepless nights she’d spent agonizing over the way they’d left things. The angry words they’d hurled in each other’s faces. The memory on a loop of watching him leave.

  And there was something else, too. An itching deep beneath her skin.

  Before Dane, she’d never realized how tightly wound she was. But he’d given her a taste of freedom. He’d taken her out of her head.

  She’d never so much as imagined identifying as submissive before, and now the urge to give in and fall to her knees for someone—for Dane . . . to let a strong, confident man take care of her . . .

  It was crippling. The future spread out before her without release. Without sex and without soft words of encouragement, without the gentle stroking of fingertips through her hair. Or the harsh swat of a crop.

  Without anyone to laugh with. To explore a foreign city with. To love.

  The elevator slowed before coming to a smooth stop at her floor. She opened her eyes and stood up straight again. Because her day wasn’t quite over yet.

  “Hon
ey, I’m home,” she called, striding through the door. The sound of the TV filtered in from the other room, so she said, a little louder, “Evan?” With a groan, she kicked her shoes off, then frowned.

  A pair of purple Converse sat beside the closet door.

  “Evan? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  Lexie padded into the living room to find Evan draped across the couch, exactly the same way she had left him when she’d checked in on him at lunch. And nestled in the chair beside it was Rylan’s fiancée, Kate.

  “Kate?”

  They weren’t strangers by any means. They hung out at Rylan’s house, and Lexie had had the two of them over a couple of times. But she’d never come home to find the girl sitting in her living room, watching her TV.

  At the sound of her name, Kate sprang from her slouch, twisted her head around, guilt written on her brow. “Lexie. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  Clearly. Lexie headed to the coffee table and grabbed the remote, turning down the volume on the television.

  “Hey,” Evan croaked, “I was watching that.”

  “You can catch up on The Young and the Restless later.”

  “It’s The Bold and the Beautiful, actually,” Kate said, standing up. “Sorry, I hope you don’t mind my stopping by. Rylan said Evan was home, and I thought he might like some company.”

  Any crankiness Lexie might have felt at the situation dissipated, at least a little. “Rylan said?”

  “Yeah.” Kate’s mouth pulled to the side. “I know he wants to get over here himself, but with work and all . . .”

  Right. She took a deep breath and plastered on a smile. “Well, tell him he’s always welcome.”

  She’d told him that herself half a dozen times. Rylan had visited once the night they’d first gotten home, and apparently the half hour of stilted conversation he and Evan had managed to make before Evan’s pain meds had knocked him out had been enough for Rylan to decide he was intruding where he didn’t belong again. She was running out of ways to convince him otherwise, and Evan wasn’t exactly helping.

  “I will.” Kate gave her a knowing look, clearly aware exactly how much use that would be. “Anyway.” Her gaze darted between the two of them. “I have some stuff I have to get done before class tomorrow, so I should probably . . .”

  Evan waved her off. “I’ll save the rest of the episode for you. In case you want to stop by again.”

  She smiled. “That’d be great.” She nodded at Lexie. “It was good to see you.”

  “You, too.” There were niceties to be observed here. Lexie should probably be inviting her to stay for dinner or something, but a growing ache behind her temples was joining the one between her shoulder blades. “Thanks for keeping an eye on the invalid for me.”

  “Hey,” Evan protested.

  Kate’s grin widened. “Anytime.”

  On her way toward the door, she paused in front of the couch, leaning down to give Evan an awkward hug. “Feel better,” she said, followed by something Lexie couldn’t quite make out.

  Evan frowned but returned the hug.

  Once Kate was gone, Lexie sunk into the chair she’d vacated, dropping her head to rest against its back. One of the thirty million bobby pins dug into her skull, and she hissed, reaching up to tug it out. She still wasn’t quite comfortable, but she’d go get changed in a minute.

  First, she raised a brow at Evan. “You two seemed cozy.”

  “Don’t go getting any ideas.”

  She chuckled. “I won’t. She and Rylan are sickeningly devoted.”

  “Oh, please. If you could have seen you and Dane last week . . .”

  She stiffened in her chair.

  Evan’s mouth twisted, like he wanted to take it back, but he was too damn stubborn to. “Well, it’s true.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t discount you and Kate, then. Apparently being sickeningly devoted isn’t that much of a guarantee after all.”

  A moment or two passed in silence. The people on the screen that neither of them had bothered to actually turn off went about their lives, and in their own way, she and her brother were, too. Both simmering in their own bits of quiet. Both hurt, if in very different ways.

  After a minute, Lexie offered, “It was nice of her to come by.”

  “She’s a nice girl. She and Ry . . . they seem happy.”

  “Very.” It was another little pang to her heart.

  “Good for them. It isn’t easy. Two people from different worlds like that.” A shade of darkness colored his tone. Like maybe he knew from experience.

  Lexie’s thoughts flickered to Marina. She and Evan had been a study in contrasts, but they had seemed to make it work. Though the fact that she wasn’t here maybe put the lie to that.

  And then there was Dane. Coming from different worlds had never been an issue for them. It was his sudden decision to abandon her in hers and head off to another one completely that had been the problem.

  “Tell me about it.” The bitterness snuck into her tone.

  Evan looked over at her sharply. He regarded her for a long moment before struggling to sit up a little higher, reaching with his good arm for his glass. He brought it to his mouth and took a sip, then set it down. When his gaze settled on her again, it was piercing.

  “You actually ready to talk about it yet? Or you want to stew a little longer?”

  “I’m not stewing.”

  “Right.” He rolled his eyes. “Well, if you ever do want to tell me what the hell came between you two . . .”

  And it was like the words spat themselves from her mouth. “He wanted to leave the company.”

  Evan went stock-still. “Okay.”

  “Like, just, out of nowhere. Something was eating at him, and you know me. I couldn’t help poking at it.” She never could stop pushing.

  “Might ring a bell . . .”

  “And then just bam. Out of nowhere. He tells me he quits.”

  Evan stared at her for a beat too long. Her heart, already all mashed up and sore, started doing squirming flips inside her chest. Crossing her arms, she dug her fingers in just for something to ground her. Something to feel.

  Only she dug in too deep, and the fingerprint bruises felt like they were blooming from the muscle itself.

  “And . . .?” Evan finally prompted.

  She jerked her head to look at him again. “And that’s that.” Shit, it sounded even pettier once she reduced it down so far. “Just—I told him. He knew. He promised.”

  He’d promised he would always be there for her. That she could trust him and he’d never leave.

  She just about growled at herself in frustration. “He made me believe I could depend on him. That he wouldn’t up and disappear on me like . . .” Like everyone else.

  Except Evan was sitting in this room. Rylan was a few blocks away in the office he’d reclaimed once she had asked him to.

  And Dane . . .

  He was out there, somewhere. Making this huge change in his life, alone. Standing up to his mom who was still crazy with grief. Trying to forge his own path.

  When Evan spoke again, his voice was softer. “Did he actually say he didn’t want to be with you?”

  She opened her mouth for an exasperated yes, then snapped it closed. It had felt like that. He’d rejected the world she’d built and the work she loved. He’d might as well have rejected her, too, only . . .

  “Not exactly.” Her throat went tight, the admission tearing.

  “And did he say what he wants to do instead?”

  “He . . . he wants to be like his brother. A . . . a firefighter or something.”

  All at once, the image of the tattoo on his back flashed across her vision. That burning bird laid out in pitch-black ink on golden skin.

  The phoenix, rising from its ashes to live again.

  “So let me get this straight,” Evan said. His voice seemed to be coming at her from a long way away. As if she were underwater and looking up through miles of liquid as
they pressed down on her lungs. “He decided he didn’t want to work an office job anymore because he wants to go be some kind of hero instead, and that was what sent you running for the hills?”

  “It’s not—it wasn’t—it’s not about what he wants to do.”

  It was about him leaving her. Not wanting the life she’d already built in her head for them. The one that had started to mean so much to her—that she’d started to almost believe in.

  But all Evan did was laugh. “Oh, come on, Lex. I shipped off for art school a decade ago, and you’re still not over that. Rylan fucked off to Paris for a year and tell me you didn’t go chase him home.”

  “That’s different.” That was family, and this was the family business.

  And she’d wanted Dane to be . . . family. Closer than. She’d wanted him for her own. If he wasn’t in her orbit, in her circle . . .

  “It’s not. And don’t think I didn’t notice you not denying still being butt hurt over the whole art school thing.”

  “I’m not butt hurt about it.” She’d just been so sure it was a phase. That someday he’d come to his senses.

  “Of course you are. You always expected everyone to be like you.”

  “No—”

  “Hear me out.” His tone went firm at that, and she swallowed, sitting back, the power of his voice alone enough to make her lean away.

  God, if he ever wanted to put that to use in a boardroom . . .

  She mentally slapped herself. Way to make his point for him.

  Weakly, she nodded, snapping her jaw shut.

  “You do,” he said, quieter now that he had the floor. “You want everyone to be as driven as you, to want the same things as you. But we don’t. I don’t. Does that make you love me any less?”

  “Never.” Evan drove her crazy half the time, but he was hers. He was the one who she always texted with, traded pictures of terrible art in terrible hotels with. He was family.

  Reaching out with his good arm, he put his hand in the space between his sofa and her chair. Palm up in invitation. After only a second’s hesitation, she took it, letting him grasp on to her, and she felt the most solid she had in days.

  “Then why is it different for him?”