by Lexi Whitlow
Daddy says he’s retiring next year and taking Marilyn on a Grand Tour of Europe. They’re already planning it. I’m hoping they invite Logan and me to come along.
Marilyn has found her vocation. With a modest grant from the Chandler Foundation, she established a small group home for adults with autism at Tatton Hall. The staff-to-client ratio is three to one, with just twelve residents. They’ve partnered with the University of North Carolina to develop a slightly experimental, occupational program for moderately high functioning adults on the spectrum; most of the residents come from families who would never be able to afford the kind of care, supervision, and hands-on training that the Tatton Hall group provides.
Drake is resident there, and he seems to be flourishing. For the first time in his entire life, he’s made friends. Between the staff and his fellow residents, he’s busy, challenged, and engaged with people outside his immediate family. He still makes his videos, but now they feature a much broader cast of characters and events.
I’d say we’ve all escaped the curse.
In fact, I’d say we’re all generously blessed.
I turn to Logan, who’s stroking sleeping Elliot’s bare head.
“You know I love you more than anything, right?” I ask, fixing his gaze.
He grins, not blinking. “Baby, you know I love you all, even more?
Yeah. We’ve made it. We’ve got it all, and then some to spare.
Guarding Her
GUARDING HER
Prologue
Seven Years Ago
Tonight, I’m asking Avery Thomas to move away with me. Mexico. It’s a hell of a drive, but I just had the oil changed in my pick-up.
I have it all worked out. MapQuest directions printed. I sent them to Avery last night, but there wasn’t a response. I’m hoping that means she’s down and just couldn’t get back to me. Maybe she’s scared her parents will find out.
I’ve got it all planned. It’s beautiful down there at this time of year. Gray whales. Avery likes whales. And the sea.
It’s a good plan. A good idea.
We’ll leave downtown San Francisco as soon as the crowds clear, and we can take the old highway down to Big Sur, camp by the beach. Or stay with my brother’s friend—he has a bed and breakfast right by the shore. He might have a spare room.
Avery is a virgin, I think. That’s what she said when we were sitting on her parents’ roof three weeks ago. Avery had consumed half a bottle of Boone’s Farm by that point, and we’d both smoked three or four clove cigarettes I stole from my brother and half a joint that Avery picked up from her friend Ella. I think that’s what she meant when she said she’d never done anything with a guy before.
Her parents didn’t ever let her out of the house—that’s probably why.
Funny how they’re not here tonight. They’re at some rally for Avery’s asshole mom, fucking Evelyn Thomas. And Richard is right there with her. You’d think a career politician and her military husband might give a damn about their daughter delivering the salutatorian speech at her own damn high school graduation, but apparently fucking not.
Here I am. The only person in Avery’s reserved row.
Because nothing is about Avery. It’s always about Evelyn.
I watched Avery walk across the stage alone, orange-red hair falling over her face in waves. Her bright blue eyes glinted in my direction when she took her diploma, but her expression was blank. She was looking for her parents. I listened to her speech, which was better than the valedictorian’s speech by a long shot. And I’m standing here by the exit, waiting for her. There are three or four guys trying to chat her up, and there are at least five of her girlfriends flitting around her like moths around a flame.
She’s all fire and elegance. High cheekbones and red-tipped eyelashes, cool clear skin and a smattering of freckles across her nose. There are freckles on her shoulders too. I noticed that three Fridays ago when we smoked and drank, and she fell asleep in my lap. I wanted to touch her, trace my finger over the hollow in her neck, her pulse flickering like a butterfly’s wings as she slept.
But I didn’t. I leaned back on my hands, trying to will my cock to lie low. I concentrated so hard that I didn’t notice when she woke, until she spoke my name softly. Full pink lips forming the sounds.
Maddox, why don’t you kiss me? I’ve been waiting all night.
“Avery!” I cup my hands to my mouth and shout in her direction. She turns at me and smiles, but the joy in that expression doesn’t reach her eyes.
“One second,” she shouts back. One of the guys puts an arm around her shoulder, and her friend Ella pulls her back towards the stage. I hear some rumblings about a party, and knowing Avery, I bet someone will talk her into it.
I shuffle from side to side, anxiety building in my gut. I shove my hand in my army jacket, checking for the directions. I find them, pat them.
I watch Avery as she disappears with her gaggle of friends behind the bleachers set up on the graduation stage. I can hear the peals of her laughter. Is it fake or real? I can’t tell.
I know underneath it, she’s hurting. I can read it on her. Back when I was in college, the teacher in my freshman psych class told us that adult children of alcoholics can read micro-expressions. I can. Fuck. I spent my childhood trying to read my dad to see if he was in a good drunk mood or a real shitty one. My safety depended on it. So did my brother’s.
I take a pack of cigarettes out of my coat pocket. There are seven still in there. Enough to make it to Los Angeles, maybe. I’ll quit then. I take one and put it in my mouth, clenching it between my teeth. My eyes are still glued to the stage. I see a burst of bright red hair every now and again. I can almost taste the tobacco, but I don’t light it yet.
A hand claps me on the shoulder, nearly making me jump out of my skin.
“You can’t smoke those things in here, son.”
I turn, and there’s Avery’s dad. Her mom stands behind her hulk of a husband, hands daintily clasped in front of her. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. Her pinched, angry face says everything it needs to when she looks at me.
My heart sinks. Shit. Fuck. I hadn’t counted on them showing up.
“General Thomas.” I shake the man’s hand, and he claps me on the shoulder again, this time a little too hard. “Mrs. Thomas. Nice of you to show up.”
“That’s Senator Thomas, Maddox,” Evelyn says, her mouth pinching even tighter. “And we were at a rally for my re-election.”
“For state senate,” I say. “That’s not quite the same as the regular senate, is it, Mrs. Thomas?”
The woman crosses her arms and nearly growls at me. A corner of my mouth raises into a smile. I can’t help it.
General Thomas bellows in laughter. “He’s got you pegged, Evelyn. I like this kid—”
Evelyn rolls her eyes. “You know my opinion on the Bryant family.” She says the words like we’re a disease she picked up in a third world country.
“Let me have a word with the kid, Evie. You go see Avery.”
“Don’t call me Evie, Richard,” Evelyn huffs. She looks at me suspiciously, but she walks back down the aisle to call for Avery.
A lump grows in my throat.
Not tonight. We can’t leave tonight now. I hadn’t counted on these assholes showing up. Tomorrow. They’re leaving for the big campaign push. I center myself. Keep calm.
When Evelyn is out of earshot, General Thomas leans in closer. He puts a hand on my arm. His grip is a little tighter than necessary.
“Maddox, son. You and my daughter have been spending a lot of time together recently.”
“Yessir,” I say. I glance sideways at him. His eyes, so much like Avery’s, bore into mine. “We’re good friends. Nothing more, sir.”
General Thomas laughs again, but the mirth is gone from his voice. “Is that a fact? Then why did I find this in Avery’s email?”
He pulls a neatly folded paper from his coat pocket. The paper makes an omino
us hissing sound as he opens it. It’s the first page of directions.
“What’s that, sir?” I gulp and try to act like nothing here is out of the ordinary.
“Something I deleted very quickly from Avery’s Gmail account when I saw it. Looks like a little vacation route to Mexico. Nice down there this time of year. You were planning to take my daughter away from me—” General Thomas pauses, and his face goes ever so slightly red.
“No sir. I wasn’t. I swear—”
His grip on my arm tightens. “Cut the shit, son.” He leans in close and whispers. “If you take my daughter anywhere, I’ll have half the police in the great state of California on your ass before you get to San Diego. It’s a long drive from here to the border. Do you doubt that I could find you? Do you doubt that border patrol would call my wife as soon as they saw Avery’s passport?”
The anxiety and rage swirl together in my gut. This is the man who skipped his own daughter’s graduation to go schmooze with his wife for her stupid-ass state senate seat.
“We were going to come back, sir,” I bleat. My heart is pounding hard now.
“Don’t fuck around with me, son. I know you and your kind. If my wife didn’t owe your mother the debt of her fucking soul, I’d never allow you in my goddamn house. And neither would Evelyn. But Nadine saved my wife’s life, so you’ll always have a place in our hearts. That doesn’t mean we like you. Or that we think your good enough for our Avery.”
“Sir—” I start. But I can’t think of anything to say. I clench my hands into fists. I want to tell him that he and fucking Evelyn aren’t fit to be in the same room with Avery.
“Your father is a piece of scum not fit to grace the bottom of my shoe, Maddox. And you’re cut from the same cloth.”
“I’m not. I’m planning to get my mechanic’s license. I’m not going to do the same shit he did—”
“You were kicked out of school, Maddox. You’re twenty. You had a scholarship to San Luis Obispo. You blew it with a 0.1 GPA and multiple counts of vandalism and violence on campus property.”
I look at him, and I know now that the rage and anger have risen to my eyes. “How do you know about that? Avery doesn’t know that shit, and I’d prefer she didn’t—”
“It’s a matter of public record, Maddox. My wife has her ways.”
I try to pull away from him, but his fingers dig into my bicep. For a fifty-year-old man, he’s far stronger than he should be. Finally he lets me jerk my arm away, but he pushes me out the door of the auditorium before I can even catch my breath.
I pull myself together. “I haven’t had a drink in over a year. Thirteen months,” I say.
“And you can’t re-enter the University of California public college system any time in the next five years. And you don’t have a pot to piss in since your parents died.”
I don’t respond. It’s all true. My heart sinks. I think of gray whales. Avery and I saw a slideshow of a guy petting the gray whale babies in Baja California. They come right up to your boat.
“With you around, my daughter has gone to shit. She didn’t study a goddamn thing the last month of school. She’s up in her room smoking pot—”
“Avery doesn’t smoke pot—”
“Her piss was positive for it last week. We had her tested. She didn’t tell you? Avery told us that it was you who gave her that shit.”
“She didn’t. She wouldn’t have—”
General Thomas shrugs. “She did. I have no reason to doubt her. Look at her. She’s beautiful, intelligent. She’s going to Berkeley. Then law school. Then she’ll probably go and do something great, like her mother. Do you think she’ll marry a mechanic? Or a welder? Or whatever stupid fucking shit you decide to do with yourself?”
He points his finger right at my chest.
I growl. “You’re the one who missed her high school graduation.”
He gives me a Cheshire cat smile. “She’ll have a graduation from Berkeley. And one from Stanford Law. We’ll make it to those.
“But we might not if she sticks around with someone like you. I’d rather my daughter didn’t get knocked up the summer before school, and I’d rather she didn’t start a little drug or alcohol habit with someone like you.”
“She won’t, sir. We’re not like that.”
“You are like that, according to her journal. Her mother found it late last night. And you feature as her knight in shining armor and her Fabio-style romance hero.”
I can’t help but smile when he says that. And I instinctively turn to look inside. Avery’s mother is lecturing her about something.
“You pay attention to me, son. You won’t be seeing Avery again. Not in the next five years. I’ve secured an opportunity for you with the Marines. That’s where you’ll be going. There’s stability in it. Honor. Training. Purpose.”
“No. Fuck that,” I growl. “Never.” I try to step away and call Avery’s name, one last ditch effort to get her to come with me. She’s eighteen. She can leave.
“Maddox. Son. You don’t have a home. You have a pick-up truck. What do you have in your wallet? Seventy-five dollars? Fifty? You think you’ll be able to provide for Avery, even in a shit hole like Mexico? Do you think you’re saving her?”
I turn and look at him. “Yeah. I do.”
“You’re not. If you stick around and she keeps running around with you, it’s very likely you’re doing the opposite. Avery has the chance to be great. To campaign with us. Make a name for herself.”
“She doesn’t want that—”
“It’s better than your plan for her, Maddox.”
I turn and walk to the auditorium doors. Fuck that guy.
“You’ll go to the Marines, Maddox. Complete basic training. Move up the ranks, maybe. Get an actual salary. I’ll deposit ten thousand into your account to get you started. You’ll have every opportunity to turn your shit around. When you’re done with your tour, you can come back and go to college on the GI bill. Get a house. I’ll even guarantee you a job with our security when you get home. You never know. Avery might welcome you with open arms.”
I walk into the auditorium, ignoring him. General Thomas follows me.
“Right now, Avery’s mother is giving her a rundown of your misdeeds at San Luis. She’s also letting Avery know what she’s doing for the summer—a political science program in Vancouver. She’ll be gone and you’ll be living out of your truck or begging on the street in the Tenderloin.”
I walk towards the two women, but Avery doesn’t see me. She’s too busy yelling at her mother.
“If you leave tonight, you have an actual opportunity to do something with your life, Maddox. Avery will wise up eventually, even if you stay and wait for her. And she won’t want you. Not like you are.”
I stand still in my tracks and watch as Evelyn pulls Avery with her toward the door at the back of the auditorium. Avery is screaming now, and she looks back at me, desperate.
“Maddox! Why did you lie to me?” Her voice isn’t angry so much as sad. I think of her pillowy pink lips against mine, the soft flicker of her breath, the minty taste of her mouth.
Evelyn has Avery out the door before I can respond.
General Thomas comes up to me and grabs me by the arm again, pulling me away from his daughter.
Avery, I think. Avery.
“Hell, I’ll make it fifteen thousand. For your emotional suffering. God knows your parents put you through hell. You’re trash, but you’ve got an opportunity not to be.”
The man keeps talking to me as he pulls me along, but my brain and body feel numb, and I absorb only about a third of what he’s saying.
He pulls me into his big ass SUV and drives me to the airport. There are three men, each bigger than General Thomas himself, all waiting for me in fatigues.
“You should thank me, Maddox,” he says, when I walk away with the men. “I pulled a lot of strings to get this shit done. It’s not every day you get an opportunity like this, son.”
I walk wi
th them, shoulders slumped.
He’s right.
Avery would figure me out. She wouldn’t want a man like this. At least now I won’t be living out of my truck.
“Remember, I’ll get you that job when you get back. And maybe you’ll be man enough for my little girl. Who the fuck knows?”
I look back at him and that awful grin, stretched across his face like a smile stitched onto a doll.
“You’ll be just fine, kid,” one of the guys says to me. “You look strong as fuck.”
“Fat chance,” says one of the others. “Fifty bucks says he quits on day three.”
The third man speaks. “General Thomas didn’t give him much of a choice. Private Bryant here might be a piece of shit, but he might eventually be a Marine.”
“I highly fucking doubt that,” I mumble.
The man punches me in the shoulder. “I’m Second Lieutenant Lucas Salvatore, and you don’t speak to me like that, Private.”
“Dammit. Don’t make me go.”
I try to pull away, but the man gruffly puts his arm around my shoulders. “Basic might fucking kill you, but I was just like you once. And we’ll make you into a man.”
My shoulders hang low. I am out of options. Lucas Salvatore seems like a person I could like, under other circumstances.
I let myself be led out of the door and onto the tarmac.
When the military plane takes off, I look out of the window and down at the bay as we cross over it.
I close my eyes and try to wipe Avery Thomas from my mind. But as hard as I try, she’s still there, like her flame is burned onto the back of my eyelids. Like she’s still there, no matter what.
“Give it a few years,” one of the guys says. “You’ll forget her. Whoever she is.”
Not too fucking likely, I think.
But I’m probably already the furthest thing from her mind.
And now?
I’m gone.
Chapter 1
Avery
Present Day
I check my phone and then put it away. There’s a stiff breeze coming down through the redwoods. Not for the first time, I imagine that Maddox might have liked it here in Berkeley. He was always talking about how much he hated growing up in South San Francisco. Too many people, too many cars, too much traffic. Typical of him to complain. But just outside of the city, there are winding roads and giant trees and places like Berkeley, full of color and light and piney scented breezes.