Two
FAMILY MATTERS
Jaxson
I wished for death. Trapped between scratchy sheets that shifted during the night into a wadded knot at my lower back, and a blanket small enough to count as an infant’s, I’d barely slept. Machines beeped behind my head, paging units from patients in other rooms dinged constantly, followed by the grating squeak of rubber soles skidding against tile floors. The nurses’ station outside my door served as the social gathering place, where I’d been unwillingly privy to conversations on everything from cheating spouses to menstrual cycles. Anyone who thought hospitals were quiet never slept in one.
The throbbing between my eyes pounded unceasing, worse than any hangover I’d experienced since my drinking rampages started five years ago. My first alcohol binge happened at summer camp at the age of fourteen. The memory remained so fresh I swear when recalled, I could taste dirt on my tongue.
Three bunkmates and I slipped out after curfew with flashlights and backpacks holding beer, Wendell, the devil’s right hand partner disguised as a fifteen-year-old computer dweeb, managed to steal from the refrigerator in the counselors’ lounge.
We sat on the banks of the lake making up drinking games starting with intelligent substance like word trivia, moving to who’d gotten the farthest with a girl, slowly demeaning ourselves to who could belch the loudest, and the grand finale—farts.
I knew nothing about word trivia and my experience with girls remained limited to kissing a cousin under the mistletoe to please a twisted grandmother. When the belching contest started, I’d definitely drank too much. I couldn’t say “burp,” let alone force one without bringing stale ale with it. When “farts” rolled around, I’d passed out in the cold mud.
When I didn’t show up for breakfast, my counselor set out to find my dead body. Of course when he dragged me into the medic station, my cohorts, all suffering various stages of leftover inebriation, denied my existence.
**
The ugliest nurse in the hospital had been assigned to me and last night when she leaned over to check my bandages, her breath reeked of garlic. I’d wrinkled my broken nose to ward off the stench and screamed from the pain. Startled by my yelp, Mom, half asleep, jumped on her metal folding chair and tipped a tray of half eaten food onto the floor.
She stood between me and a puddle of chicken noodle soup, not knowing what to do first—rush to my side, or clean up the mess. She chose mopping up soup. I pushed aside the pinch to my heart and blamed her choice on the fact she couldn’t get around the medical Neanderthal restraining me, not that splattered food could be more important than her own son.
“Get the hell away from me!” I barked yanking my arm from beneath the stethoscope pushing my inner elbow. The sudden movement tugged the IV needle on top of my hand, and a smug smile wandered over my medical warden’s mouth when I sucked a sharp breath.
“Shit!”
“Jaxson!” Mom gasped.
Unbelievable. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes. Nineteen year old boys don’t cry, I commanded my inner child. I hadn’t cried since I was a kid. What I’d give to be six years old and curled up on my mother’s lap listening to a bedtime story.
Mom looked over at me, dropped the dripping towels into the garbage can and muscled around the nurse. Her floral perfume overpowered the “vampire repellent breath” smell, competing with the aroma of chicken broth.
“Leave him alone. Can’t you see he’s hurting? And you better get someone in here with a mop before my husband comes back.” The nurse “hmfed” in disgust, but left the room.
Mom smoothed my brow with comforting strokes. She pushed the hair from my face and pressed light kisses to my cheek. “Shhh, baby. It’s all right.”
“Nothing’s ever going to all right again.”
“Yes it will, Jaxson. Everything’s going to work out. The important thing is you’re okay.”
“But, Dad—”
“Loves you,” she punctuated. “He loves you, regardless of all the ‘stuff’, got that?”
A feeble “sorry” tumbled awkwardly out of my mouth. I loved my parents, but constantly stressed them out with my asinine choices. The worry lines on my mother’s face deepened the past year, and my father avoided me whenever possible. Dirk acted like he feared I’d murder him in his sleep and Riley hated my guts. Or soon would, when he discovered the truth about the accident. Smashing Dad’s sheriff cruiser would pale in comparison to the crushing blow I’d serve my brother’s heart.
This time, I really fucked things up. The damage I caused could create a rift in my family that may never be fixed and I had no one to blame but myself…and my good friend, “Jack Daniels.”
Three
TRUTH OR DARE
Riley
The grandfather clock in the living room chimed out the eleven o’clock hour. Still no Mom or Dad. Dirk had been asleep since 9:30. I even did my homework out of boredom, channel surfed the satellite, finding nothing but infomercials and old sitcom reruns. I lingered for a moment on some soap opera relayed in Spanish, amused at how the voice track missed the lip movements.
What’s taking so long?
I checked my cell. No missed calls. Finally, I decided to go to bed with the belief that sometime before morning, parental supervision would return to our house again. Someone who could cook a decent breakfast.
I locked the doors, put Lucky in the laundry room, and set the security alarm. I left the front porch light on, even though my parents would come through the garage. Something about the way the light shone through the leaded glass window and lit the entry, gave me a needed sense of security.
Dirk was well on his way to healthy snoring rage by the time I made the last stair. The glow from a lamp in my parent’s room sent a ribbon of gold light across the hardwood floor. They must have forgotten to shut it off in their rush to get to the hospital earlier. I stepped inside, freezing at the foot of the bed. My world righted just a bit. Even in their hurried frenzy, Mom managed to make the bed, perfectly arranging the stupid lacy pillows Dad hated. They made great fabric bricks to throw and wake him on Sunday mornings.
When we were little, we could get away with jumping on the bed while pulverizing our parents with pillow bombs, but when you’re closing in on the six foot mark, jumping on a bed could send you through the floor to the basement.
My thoughts whirled back to present and I reached out to shut the lamp off, tipping over a picture on the dresser, knocking another, until several frames slapped the wood. The last picture I lifted to arrange was of Jaxson, who now had a new nose. Just what he needed—another physical perfection added to his credits.
Jax could have any girl he wanted…well, actually he had. I hated admitting my girlfriends drooled over him. After spending an hour at our house under Jaxson’s dazzle routine, when it came time for some serious kissing, I didn’t doubt his face replaced mine. Couldn’t complain, though. Make-out sessions always seemed hotter after Jaxson cast his spell.
“Riley? What are you doing in here?”
My skin slammed the ceiling and my skeleton flattened on the floor when Dad’s voice suddenly perforated my thoughts. All the pictures I’d just re-arranged flew across the room when my arm jerked. Jaxson’s picture symbolically hit the bedpost and shattered.
“Shit you scared me!”
“Watch you language, son.”
Dad wore his uniform, his sidearm resting in the holster. He didn’t remove the gun to put in the safe, nor did he shrug out of his jacket.
“You on duty? Where’s Mom?”
“I’m filling in on another graveyard with Pete. I left your mother at the hospital with Jaxson, but promised to come home and check on you boys. You didn’t answer my question. Why are you in our bedroom?”
“Turning off the lamp someone left on.”
Embarrassed, I picked up pictures and haphazardly placed them on the dresser. Dad bent on his haunches, carefully plucked shards of glass out of the carpet, and set them
on Jaxson’s face.
“How is Jaxson?”
“He’s out of the woods. They were able to save his spleen. He’ll be coming home in a couple of days.” Dad set the broken picture on the nightstand, easing onto the edge of the bed. He patted the mattress to his side. “Riley, sit with me. There’s something I need to tell you.”
Cautiously, I lowered myself a foot away, hugging the bedpost for support.
“Riley, we’ve determined there were others in the car with Jaxson. Unfortunately, one came as a surprise.” He regarded me. “Son, Ally didn’t ride in the front seat with Jaxson.”
“That figures,” I scoffed. “Was she in the back doing Brandon while Jaxson drove?”
“Honestly, I don’t know where you boys get such a crass attitude. My old man would have paddled my butt for talking like that and your grandmother would have fed me hand soap for a week.”
“Sorry, but believe me, I’m nothing like some kids I know.” He had no response, so I went back to the accident. “Okay, so Ally wasn’t in the front seat, but did I get it right about her being in the back?”
“Ally wasn’t in the car, period. Brandon and his girlfriend, what’s her name…?”
“Jamie.”
“Yes. Those two were in the backseat fooling around, I suppose, by the undergarments left on the floor. But someone other than Ally rode next to Jaxson, who also left intimate apparel behind.”
The hair on the back of my neck tweaked. “Okay, so Jaxson has a new girlfriend. Ally will take care of that. Be ready for the chick fight.”
“Ally’s not the one I’m stressing about over-reacting. It’s you, Riley, I’m worried about.”
“Me? Why should I care who Jaxson’s screwing this week?”
A brow rose in disapproval, but Dad didn’t chastise me. Instead, he pulled a long, breath, letting it out slow. The words he spoke hung in the air, having nowhere to go—too heavy to float away, but too light to be within reach so they could be taken back.
“Because Jaxson’s date was Kaylee. She wandered off after the accident, disoriented. We found her unconscious under a nearby tree.”
“Kaylee.” I didn’t ask, just confirmed.
“Yes, son. Kaylee. She admitted to being in the car at the hospital.”
I swallowed several times, trying to pick which emotion to deal with first. Betrayal, anger at Kaylee…at Jaxson, or the ugly monster rising quickly—jealousy.
“What clothes did she leave in the car?”
“Riley, that doesn’t matter…”
“It matters to me!” I blared over him. “What clothes?”
My father lowered his eyes, his voice almost a whisper. “Her shirt…and bra.”
“But not her panties?”
“Riley, I’ve already told you too much—”
“Were. Her. Panties. On?”
“Whose panties?” sounded the sleepy voice from the doorway.
Damn. We woke Dirk, who diverted my father’s attention and left my question unanswered.
Four
CONFESSIONS OF A CHEATER
Kaylee
My heart smashed my spine when I shut the locker door and found Riley fuming on the other side.
Pull it together Kaylee. He can’t know.
When I reached out to touch him, he grabbed my wrist, his fingers constricting so tight, I felt my arm numbing.
Damn. He knows.
“Riley, you’re hurting me.”
He yanked me close enough that on any other occasion my bones would have melted. Riley’s eyes narrowed to angry slits and I felt tiny puffs of air against my face from the words he quietly, yet firmly spat.
“Tell. Me. What. Happened.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Stupid reply, but then most everything I did lately bordered “stupid.” Riley kept my wrist hostage, placed his free arm around my waist and towed me to the parking lot. “Riley, I can’t miss first period. My parents will kill me.”
“They’re not going to get the chance, because I’m going to beat them to it. You owe me an explanation, Kaylee,” he shouted loud enough to get a couple of students’ attention. Riley turned to the few witnesses of my possible demise. “Mind your own damn business.” His popularity gave him absolute power and they scurried into the building like spineless cowards.
Except Shar. She held her own against Riley and followed us to his truck.
“Martin, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Do you want me to—”
“What Shar? Call the police? Go ahead. In fact, ask for my dad personally. After all he’s the one… Never mind.” Riley clamped his anger, softening his tone. He glanced at me cowered against the door of the truck. “Does she know?”
My eyes darted between Shar and Riley. She knew all right. But Riley couldn’t know how. Shar’s dad was the mayor. If he knew about her being in the car—in the backseat with Jaxson’s nineteen-year-old friend, her sixteen-year-old butt would be shipped off to a private school. Possibly a nunnery. Good Catholic girls supposedly didn’t do what Shar did to Brandon.
When the sheriff cruiser crashed with a little help from “yours truly,” Shar jumped from the car and Brandon followed, pulling his shorts over his bare butt. When I saw Jaxson bleeding and heard the radio squawk “officer assistance stat,” I knew the police would swarm the place any minute.
Jaxson appeared lifeless, slumped over the steering wheel, face down in the airbag. I honestly thought he was dead. My stomach swirled. Somehow, I managed to climb out the passenger door and staggered across the lawn away from the car. The cold blast of air on my skin reminded me I’d left my shirt and bra on the front seat. I turned around, took in the crumpled car, smoke billowing under the street light. The squeal of car alarms echoed everywhere. Sirens wailed in the distance and I decided to take my chances sneaking in the back door at home. When I whirled back around, something hit the side of my head, hard, turning the world black.
When I woke in the hospital, Sheriff Martin sat next to my bed, holding my clothes, demanding to know what happened. I confessed to being in the front seat with Jaxson. My panties were still on, but Shar’s apparently, remained on the floor in the car. When he asked who else rode in the car, I added another lie to my list of sins. I said Brandon was with his girlfriend Jamie, which hopefully spared him from jail, and Shar from her father.
I blinked away the vivid nightmare and stepped around Riley. “Shar, it’s okay. This is between Riley and me.” Worry clouded her gray eyes. I winked and forced a smile. “We just want to go somewhere private and you know, talk.”
Her shoulders relaxed somewhat, but a doubtful expression showed she didn’t believe me. “I’ll meet you for lunch,” she said and turned back toward the school.
Riley wrenched the truck door open. “Get in,” he demanded. I didn’t argue and climbed over the console into the other seat. Permanent black streaks marked our retreat. A few silent minutes later, he pulled into the library parking lot at the edge of town. The city’s granite marker at the end of the property looked like some large creature took a bite out of the corner.
“Why are we here?” I asked, playing coy. He didn’t answer and climbed out of the truck, coming around to my side. I almost dropped to the pavement when he dragged me out.
“Okay that’s enough, Riley. If someone sees you acting like some abusive lunatic, you’ll get arrested.”
His cheeks puffed in and out. He reached around my shoulders, gentler, pulling me to the middle of the small, tree-dotted park to the side of the building. We stopped at a picnic table in the far corner hidden by a clump of scrub oak.
Riley perched on top of the table, resting his feet on the bench. He twisted the strings of his hoody mindlessly around his finger. “So. Which tree did they find your half-naked body passed out under?
I gasped. “Riley, I’m tired of this game. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Tell me it isn’t true.” He pointed at the broken marker. “De
ny it to my face that you weren’t with Jax when he hit that.”
We played out an optic tug-o-war. I crossed my arms in defiance over my chest. Riley flipped elm seedlings into the air, letting Nature’s “helicopters” flutter to the grass.
“It’s going to be in the paper, Kaylee, so you may as well fess up.”
“They can’t! I’m a minor!”
With a big mouth.
Riley hopped off the picnic table nudging my shoulder as he walked past me. “We’re so done, bitch.”
The world bubbled behind watery curtain when I suddenly realized I watched the better of two brothers disappear. I ran after him, throwing myself in front of him. “No! Riley, don’t say that. I’m sorry, really sorry. Jaxson means nothing to me. I love you.”
Riley squared my shoulders. His eyes glistened. “Really? Love me? I doubt you know the meaning of the word. Face it. If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have gone after my brother.” He kissed my forehead, and continued to his truck.
“Hey, I need a ride back to school.” He kept walking. “You can’t just leave me here!”
Riley spun around, hands facing out. “Call somebody who cares, Kaylee. There’s someone more important than you I need to see, one whose new nose needs rearranging.”
Five
RECKONING
Jaxson
I needed to pee, but couldn’t wake up enough to ring the buzzer and summon my Nazi nurse. Maybe I’d get someone halfway pleasant for the day shift. The urgent pain won over the need for sleep and I carefully shifted onto my good side to reach the buzzer. I opened my eyes, blinking in disbelief…or horror. Riley sat in the chair next to the bed, close enough I could see the scar just below his right brow from where he fell and hit a rock when we were working on the pond.
Riley's Pond (New Adult Romance) Page 3